lady I told you about when I met you on the way out to the crease. She was pleasant and bubbly. She had just become engaged to the bowler who took your wicket, the one I hit for six.’
‘Ah, the one with the brother. You told me about her when you went to the crease.’ There was a new note to his voice, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. ‘Was there some reason you brought her up again?’
‘Yes.’ She turned towards him and leant forwards. His eyes watched her much as a cat might watch a mouse. Her hand toyed with the collar of her blouse and his eyes followed her hand as if he wanted to touch her there. An awareness of him filled her.
A sudden recklessness filled her. The fearful Sophie would have ignored it, but the new Sophie, the one who dared play cricket with gentlemen and win, wanted to test her theory. He was not indifferent to her. He had been jealous earlier.
‘I wondered if her brother was at the match. Do you think anyone could be as good as Miss Grayson painted this man? Such a paragon of virtue and apparently extremely handsome,’ she added for good measure, embellishing the story.
‘Does it matter what he looks like?’ Richard’s face became very stern. ‘Speculation does no one any favours. You of all people should know that by now.’
‘You never know.’ Sophie toyed with her gloves, straightening the seams, rather than looking at him. Every fibre of her being was aware of him and the way he glowered. He was jealous, she realised with a start. ‘They live in Newcastle. We must travel in the same social circles. I wish I could figure out why I thought at first I must know her from somewhere. I felt we could be friends. It is all most peculiar.’
‘Leave it, Sophie. You are unlikely to encounter this lady again … if you haven’t encountered her before.’ His voice held a certain finality. Sophie twisted her engagement ring. It was amazing how it felt part of her now. She had become accustomed to wearing it. She gave a soft sigh. But she had no right to it, not like Miss Grayson and her ring. Hers was a lie from start to finish, doomed to end in three weeks at the outside.
After today, she must refuse his invitations or else her heart would be seriously involved. And he wouldn’t be jealous. Jealousy only happened if feelings were involved.
‘I suppose you are right,’ she said as a pang ran through her. No more conversations. No more gentle teasing. No more cricket matches. ‘I was simply curious. It intrigued me, that’s all. To have a sister that devoted. She swore that the only reason she was engaged was down to him.’
Richard’s voice became even colder. ‘I am sure he is not worth wondering about.’
She turned towards him, surprised. Normally he encouraged her to talk about people and make observations. ‘Is there some problem? You were quiet during the celebrations afterwards.’
‘I don’t like the thought of you wondering about men when you are engaged to me.’
He regarded her with a fierce expression. Sophie’s heart thumped and her lips tingled. He was jealous! Truly jealous of an unknown man, simply because she’d expressed an interest in that man. Her earlier instincts were correct. A heady sense of power coursed through her veins. He did feel something for her. Maybe they would not have to part for ever. Maybe it could blossom into something more. Maybe the romance was real, instead of pretend.
She wanted him to kiss her. Thoroughly and completely. Here in the carriage where no one could see. She wanted to see if his kisses were different when feelings were involved. And he would if she pushed him a bit further. The knowledge thudded through her, making her limbs feel weak.
She felt as if she was playing with fire, but that only served to make her feel more reckless. She could do anything she set her mind to. She had hit that six and won the game!
One single kiss to end a perfect day. She was safe with Richard. She trusted him to stop when she said so and she did know the boundaries.
The knowledge thrummed through her. She loved him and she wanted to pretend that she was worthy of experiencing romance in the same way Miss Grayson had. She wanted to prove once and for all time that she wasn’t like those names Sebastian had called her. She wanted to believe for a little while that this romance was real. She could risk one kiss without endangering her reputation.
She tilted her chin in the air and lowered her lashes.
‘Strictly speaking we are not engaged nor are we ever likely to be. We are merely using it as a convenience to stop untoward comment. Therefore I can speculate all I like. My heart belongs to no man.’
The blood raced through her veins and she hoped that he would not see her blatant lie. But she knew she had to provoke him.
He gave a soft curse and pulled her firmly into his arms. His lips lowered and captured hers.
Where his other kisses had been gentle and coaxing, this one was possessive and demanding. It seemed as though he wanted to brand her. A warm thrill went through her and she yielded up her mouth to his, opening under his onslaught, tasting the interior of his mouth. Their tongues tangled, retreated and then met again.
The warmth became a wildfire and she knew she wanted more than this one kiss. Her body desired his touch. She arched forwards, bringing her arm about his neck and holding his head against hers as their mouths continued to do battle.
His arms pulled her tight, knocking her straw hat down to the floor. He rained little kisses on her face, nibbling and caressing her as if that one touch had unlocked the floodgates of passion. With each new touch, her heart beat faster and she knew she had to have more. She had been wrong to think that one kiss would satisfy her.
Sophie dug her hands in his hair and felt its silky smoothness against her fingers and brought his mouth back to hers. She opened her mouth and took him fully inside, and suckled, allowing her instinct to guide her.
Her breasts grew full and strained against her corset, causing her blouse to choke her. She tugged impatiently at it, seeking relief from its constriction, squirming against Richard’s chest. He clasped her to him, preventing her from moving.
‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘My blouse, it’s choking me. Far too tight.’
‘Allow me to help.’
‘Yes.’
His hand roamed down her back, stopping on the tiny buttons and then skimming upwards. Her body arched forwards.
‘Please,’ he growled in her ear. ‘Let me.’
All she could do was nod. His hands started to undo the blouse. Her blouse immediately loosened and he slipped his hand under the fabric, sending little licks of fire coursing through her body as he stroked her skin and his mouth tugged at her earlobe. Her body arched forwards. This was what she had been longing for—his touch. It felt so right and necessary.
His fingers moved ever lower, reaching her breast. One finger brushed her nipple, turning it to a hardened point. With the other hand, he pushed the material down on to her arms so that the tops of her breasts were exposed.
Slowly he lowered his mouth, placing tiny kisses on her throat until he reached her breast. He tilted the breast so that the dark-rose nipple just peaked out and captured it, running his tongue over it. Again and again he circled until it hardened to a tight point.
She moaned
