Mr. Hunt, I Presume (Playful Brides, #10.5)

Erienne sank to the ground and struggled to right her breathing. She had many things to say, but first she needed air, and she wasn’t about to waste any of her precious breaths arguing with Collin over why she’d thought she’d be perfectly safe diving into a tiny creek.

She did, however, glance down at herself and notice that her shift was practically see-through, her nipples standing at attention. She plucked at her shift to pull the fabric away from her skin.

Collin had marched over to where they’d made camp only a few minutes earlier and pulled the blanket out from under the basket. He returned to where Erienne sat shivering and wrapped it around her shoulders.

She waited until her teeth stopped chattering. “Th … thank you,” she finally managed.

“You might have died,” he repeated, his face etched with a mixture of concern and anger.

Erienne sat for a moment and contemplated that declaration. He was right. She had come close to death this afternoon. It was a frightening thought, but a true one. It immediately drained her of any anger. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come along.”

He took a seat on the ground beside her and searched her face. “I’m not trying to garner praise. I was worried sick when I realized you couldn’t come up for air. I was watching from down a ways, and came running when—”

Her head snapped up, her eyes seeking his. “You came running to save me?”

“Yes,” he admitted, looking positively boyish.

Gratitude washed over her, more powerful than the water of the creek ever could have been. She reached out and pressed a cold hand to his cheek. “Thank you, Collin. I’ve always considered myself a good swimmer. I suppose I never thought I’d be in danger.”

He sat up on his knees and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Do you want me to carry you back to the house?”

She tilted her head and considered the offer. “No.”

“Would you like me to send for Lucy?”

“No.” She pressed her cold, wet nose into the quilt.

He frowned. “Do you want me to walk with you?”

“No.”

He cracked a smile. “Would you mind telling me what you’d like to do next, then?”

“This,” she said resolutely, before tugging him down atop her, soaking his shirt.





Chapter Fifteen





The next morning, Collin woke up, rolled over, and groaned. Bloody hell. He’d kissed Erienne yesterday. And the day before. And done more, both times. They’d nearly made love on the creek bed yesterday. God’s teeth—she’d had her hand around his cock, and it had taken all the strength in him not to tear off what remained of her clothing and bury himself deep inside of her.

But the woman had nearly died, for Christ’s sake. In the end, Collin wasn’t so much of a scoundrel that he intended to take advantage of her in her weakened state. Instead, he’d forced himself to pull away from her, wrapped the blanket more snugly around her, gathered the basket, and walked her back to the house, where Anna had already alerted the maids, who were waiting for Erienne with warm blankets and a hot bath.

What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been around Erienne for only two days, and clearly couldn’t keep his hands off her. He had no right to appear in her life again and cause havoc. He’d obviously hurt her when he’d left. Even if she hadn’t mostly admitted it, he could tell by the acerbic things she’d said at dinner, by the tears in her eyes in the garden, and then there was that brain-rattling slap she’d given him in the library.

He couldn’t blame her for hating him. He’d hate himself too if he were in her position. He’d promised her love and marriage and then he’d left her. It didn’t matter any longer why he’d done what he’d done. She’d spent the last fourteen years as a governess, a position that was clearly beneath her.

As to why she’d grabbed him and kissed him by the creek bed … that was easily explained. She’d come close to death, and he’d come close to it himself often enough to know that a feeling of euphoria usually followed such an event. Clearly they were still extremely physically attracted to each other. She’d confused her euphoria with passion, that was all. He couldn’t blame her for that either, and he certainly hadn’t minded. But it hardly meant she was interested in more.

He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece across from the bed. He’d promised to meet Derek at seven. Collin threw off the sheets and pushed himself out of bed.





*



When Collin arrived at the stables a quarter hour later, his brother was standing by his mount, consulting his timepiece.

“You’re late,” Derek shot out, his head cocked to the side.

Collin grinned at him. “I’m a gentleman of leisure for the next fortnight, or haven’t you heard?”

“Ah, I see. Forgetting your rigid military training so quickly.”

“I wish,” Collin returned. “Now, didn’t you promise me something about showing me the perimeter of the property?” He couldn’t wait to get started. A long ride was just what he needed to clear his mind today.

They both mounted their horses and took off at a brisk trot across the meadow. It wasn’t until they were too far away from the house to see it any longer that Derek said, “You all right?”

Collin frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Derek shrugged. “Lucy seems to think something happened between you and Erienne down by the creek yesterday.”

Collin’s head snapped to face him. “What makes her think that?”

“She said Erienne seemed upset when she returned.”

“Erienne almost drowned,” Collin ground out.

“Is that all that happened?” Derek countered.

Collin arched a brow at him. “Careful, your grace.” It had long been a jest between them for him to call Derek ‘your grace.’

“You can’t blame us for wondering,” Derek replied.

Collin poked out his cheek with his tongue and nodded. “Suffice it to say, I’m thinking of leaving.”

Derek lightly kicked his horse’s sides to go faster. “Now, that’s surprising.”

“What do you mean?” Collin called after him.

“I’ve never known you to run away from anything before. No matter how difficult.”





*



Later that afternoon, Collin strolled through his brother’s empty library. He’d already read all the interesting books on military history. He was so desperate for distraction that he’d been looking at tomes on gardening, of all bloody boring things. He’d fully intended to leave this morning, to take himself away from Erienne, to give her the peace she obviously deserved. But then Derek had gone and said the one bloody thing he knew would convince Collin to stay. That Collin wasn’t one to run away from difficult things.

And he wasn’t, damn it. So why did he want to run from this so much?

Because his emotions were involved. Emotions he barely wanted to acknowledge existed, let alone admit were causing him problems. He’d spent the last fourteen years dedicating himself to work and country, not worrying about things like love and marriage and touching Erienne Stone again. And now because of Lucy and her meddlesome ways, he was trapped in a house with the one woman who made his emotions riot.

He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear the door open. When he turned, Erienne was standing near the large leather sofa in the center of the room, the same large leather sofa where he’d pleasured her two nights ago. Bloody hell. That thought was not helping.

She hadn’t noticed him standing by the bookshelves in the far corner of the room. Instead, she bent to grab a book on the table in front of the sofa. She was wearing a dark gown and an apron. Dressed like a servant. The image of her in her ice-blue gown filled his mind. She should never have to dress like a servant again.

“Good afternoon,” he said. Then he wanted to kick himself. Good afternoon was a bloody boring thing to say. Besides, the afternoon was not particularly good. It was confusing and tense.

Erienne froze. “Oh,” she breathed, hugging the book against her chest. “I just came to fetch a book Mary left here this morning.” She glanced down at the cover. “Cinderella.”

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