Love At First Bite Part 34

Anne wheeled to face him, nearly colliding with him, he stood so close. Her eyes made it past the dark hair teasing her from the open collar of his s.h.i.+rt, up across his broad shoulders, the dark whiskers on his chin and cheeks, to his icy eyes, but no, they were not cold. The heat was back in them. His gaze lowered to her lips and they parted as if he'd commanded them to do so. Would he kiss her again? Was that the something he wanted? And did it matter what she wanted? Or did she want the same thing?

He lifted a hand, almost touched her hair, then quickly withdrew it. "You wanted to ride astride like a man, and today you will."

Merrick turned from her and walked to the stallion. He unsaddled the horse in short order while she stood reeling from the onslaught of his nearness, her lips tingling in antic.i.p.ation of a kiss that had not come. "You are going to do it this time, aren't you?" he asked while carrying the saddle to her mount and laying it on the ground. "I'd hate to go through this trouble only to see you bolt and run away like you did last night."

A teasing light had entered his eyes, but Anne did not find him amusing. Staying last night had been out of the question. No telling

what might have happened had she not regained her senses and fled to the safety of the house. And no telling how often she would wonder exactly what would have transpired between them if she hadn't escaped when she did.

"I will ride astride," she a.s.sured him.

He didn't comment but unsaddled Storm, then saddled the mare with the lightweight English saddle he'd used on the stallion.

Merrick adjusted the stirrups, then turned to her.

"Up you go."

Anne glanced down at her skirt. "I wish I owned a pair of men's trousers. And tall boots like you are wearing."

He placed a hand against his heart. "I might not survive such a sight. You have lovely legs, la.s.s."

She fought down another blush. Had Merrick seen her legs? And how had he seen anything at all when she hadn't been able to

make out so much as his silhouette in the darkness? He couldn't have, she a.s.sured herself.

"I'm not sure how to proceed," Anne tried to change the subject. Only she had to bring it back around when she glanced meaningfully at the skirt of her riding habit.

Merrick motioned her closer with a jerk of his head. "Come on, I'll help you up, then you'll have to figure out the rest."

"And you won't say anything to my aunt or uncle about this?" She wanted rea.s.surance.

"You have my word."

For some reason, Anne believed him-felt certain she could count on his word. Why, she had no idea. Maybe the man really

had cast a spell over her. She allowed him to give her a leg up. In order to sit the saddle astride, she had to bunch her skirt up around her knees. It left her stocking-clad calves bare to his eyes, but she hoped he wouldn't look. He did.

"Very nice," he said. "Just like I remember."

Ignoring him, Anne urged Storm forward, awkward at first with her position astride the horse. It took Anne only a few paces to become braver and urge the bay into a trot. The sensation was strange, to say the least. Anne decided a gallop might prove less disturbing and soon she was on the path, racing along astride and realizing how cruel it was to make women ride sidesaddle.

She laughed out loud with the sheer freedom she felt, glanced behind her, and saw Merrick riding bareback behind her. He looked like a barbarian and her heart made a funny lurch inside of her chest.

"So what do you think?" Merrick called, quickly catching up to her.

"It's wonderful," she called back. "It's the way a horse was meant to be ridden. I shall never want to ride sidesaddle again."

"And what about riding in your underwear, bareback, at midnight across the moors? Are you still brave enough to do that?"

Anne slowed her mount. Was Merrick teasing her? "Not with an escort," she a.s.sured him.

He smiled in answer. Just at breakfast Anne had wondered what it would be like to see him smile. She decided she was better

off not knowing. He had a smile that could melt winter.

"Would you do it if you had a pair of men's trousers and boots?"

She c.o.c.ked a brow. "And where would I get those?"

He shrugged. "I could get them for you. The lad who sweeps out the stalls, Brennan, he's not much bigger than you."

What Merrick said was true. The stable boy was only ten but tall for his age. And Anne supposed his feet were still small. Did

she dare? She had wanted to dare last night. But last night had proven a mistake, and she had a feeling meeting the new stable master in the dead of night for a midnight ride again would be another one.

"May I go alone?"

He shook his dark head. "I cannot allow that. You can go if you let me go with you, to watch after you."

His suggestion annoyed her. If her aunt and uncle were not particularly affectionate people toward her, they had made certain Anne had been well chaperoned all of her life. She wanted the freedom of riding alone.

"I don't need looking after," she said. "I'm a grown woman and, as you said yourself, a skilled rider."

Merrick leaned forward in the saddle and scratched his chin. "Have you ridden bareback before, then?"

Anne frowned. "Well, no, but-"

"When I feel you know what you are doing, then you can go alone and I'll keep your secrets."

Anne wasn't a mistrustful person by nature. But she wasn't as innocent as she'd been just the day before. "Why would you do

that?" she asked.

He glanced at her and winked. "To see you in the trousers of course."

She had no idea if he was teasing her. Considering what had happened between them the night before, she thought she should

ask, "You won't try anything like you did last night, will you?"

Merrick shrugged. "Probably. It's in my nature to ravish any young woman who stumbles across my path in the night." His expression was perfectly serious.

"Then I must decline."

The serious expression he wore disappeared and he surprised her by laughing out loud. Anne didn't care to be laughed at.

"What is so funny?" she asked stiffly.

He pulled up and stopped his horse. Anne did likewise. "Last night I didn't know who you were. Today I do. That changes

everything, la.s.s."

Anne ignored the slight sting she felt to her ego. "You said you would not forget," she reminded him.

Heat flared to life in his eyes as he stared at her. "Oh, to be sure, I won't. But a maid looking for sport with her lover, and a lady only wanting a midnight ride on her horse are two different things. You're safe with me... I think."

It was his afterthought that made Anne nervous. But that trepidation was easily outweighed by a chance to do something she'd wanted to do for a long time. It was a chance that might never come her way again.

"All right," she said. "Meet me at midnight in the stable. Have the clothes with you."

Merrick had to wonder if he'd taken leave of his senses. Making offers, keeping secrets, getting too close to a woman he had no right to get close to. Lady Anne was a proper lady. He was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, a stable master who made a good enough wage to support a common la.s.s, but not a grand lady like his employer's niece. Not that Merrick was thinking of wedding the tempting Lady Anne, but he was d.a.m.n sure thinking of bedding her.

He had the clothes, paid for with a coin to the lad and a promise from the boy that he'd not ask why the new stable master needed them. He had the horses saddled and ready. He had everything but a brain in his head. He almost hoped she wouldn't come. It would be better for the both of them if she regained her senses and decided he wasn't a man to trust with either her secrets or her virtue. She'd probably be right in thinking that, although he'd always tried to be a man of his word before.

There was little in life Merrick had besides his word and his skill with horses. He recalled giving his word to another woman. His mother on her deathbed. She'd told him not to go looking for his past. She'd told him to be content with what he'd been given in life. Not to dream of things beyond his reach. And Merrick had promised.

Now he was sniffing around a woman's skirts he should not be sniffing around. Merrick and Lady Anne were as different as night and day. Merrick was, in fact, different from any man he knew. He had strange abilities that his mother hadn't even known about. He had his secrets even if he chose not to acknowledge his differences most of the time. He did not understand his "gifts" or why they had been given to him. He wasn't sure they were gifts. Perhaps they were instead a curse.

Although his mind told him it would be better if Lady Anne did not appear tonight in the stable, Merrick watched the door for her. He willed her to him, and by doing so he went back on his word to his mother. He wanted all he promised her he would not want. Deep inside, he resented that his blood was somewhat blue but still ran red like that of the common man he was.

His mother, G.o.d rest her soul, had taken his father's name to the grave with her. Whoever the man had been, Merrick resented the h.e.l.l out of him. How could a man treat a child like a dirty secret? Like a mistake, easily ignored and then forgotten? While the man was alive, he'd made certain that Merrick and his mother were provided for, but after his death, it was as if he'd wanted to bury his secrets along with him. Merrick, only a young man at the time, and his mother were suddenly forced to work at whatever jobs they could find in order to support themselves. He supposed that made them no different from most, but he had wondered if while he and his mother sc.r.a.ped and starved, somewhere the man's legitimate children were living in the lap of luxury.

The horses had always come naturally to Merrick. He knew a good bloodline when he saw one. He knew what mare to breed to which stallion in order to produce a better horse. He knew how to care for the animals, how to clean up after them, how to ride them. He'd made a name for himself in his profession, if it wasn't the grandest profession a man might strive for, and if his name was only his first name. Still, he'd learned to be content... until last night.

He caught Lady Anne's scent before she reached the stable. Why did she have to smell like that, like a gumdrop, all soft and sugary and melting on the tongue? Why did she have to feel like fine silk beneath his calloused hands? Why did she have to taste like heady wine, warm and wet and intoxicating? Why did she have to trust his word when already his body stirred to life with want for her and he was thinking of going back on it?

"Merrick," she whispered in the darkness, and even the sound of his name on her lips nearly caused him to groan.

"Here," he said, then had to clear the huskiness from his throat.

"Do you have the clothes?"

"In the tack room," he answered. "I've draped them across your sidesaddle. The boots are there on the ground next to them."

"You will stay out here while I change?"

She was still wary of him. Which proved she was smart as well as pretty. "Unless you need my a.s.sistance," he answered.

"I won't," she a.s.sured him.

"Hurry up, then. We don't have all night."

His abnormal hearing tortured him with sounds of her undressing a moment later. The brush of cloth against skin. The pictures

forming in his head. He wanted to see her in the moonlight. See her beautiful face light up with laughter as it did when she rode astride earlier. Why had such a woman not already been claimed? Were the men of her station all daft? She was everything he would want in a woman and nothing he could have.

"I'm ready."

Lost in his thoughts, Merrick hadn't been listening for her approach. He saw her outline in the darkness. If he wanted to, if he looked long and hard enough, he could make out her features clearly, but they needed to get away from the stable.

"I'll give you a hand up. We'll unsaddle the mare once we're away from the house, and I'll teach you to ride bareback."

She brought her sweet scent and her soft woman's curves around the horses to stand next to him. When his hands encircled her