Wild Lily (Those Notorious Americans Book 1)(35)

“He wouldn’t.

She flung back her head to gaze up at him. “Oh, Julian. I can call you Julian, can’t I?”

He searched her expression as if he met her for the first time. “I would think you must under the circumstances.”

“I couldn’t bear it if I were in the newspapers again. That cartoon of me on horseback was hideous.”

He swung toward her and looped an arm around her waist. “If he saw you now, he’d cry bitter tears that his talents were so shallow.”

“Your compliment is kind.” Exciting. “But if word gets out…”

“It won’t. I know that artist. Trust me, he wouldn’t dare it again.”

“How could you stop him?”

A mischievous light crossed his eyes. “Shoot him at dawn.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Isn’t that what they do in Texas?”

She laughed. “Sometimes. Before the sheriff arrives.”

“We have a sheriff who’s just as slow.”

She giggled.

He put a hand to her cheek. His touch calmed her, the heat of his skin on hers an endearment she hadn’t expected. “I’d gladly shoot him for you.”

“I’d hate to be the cause of you hanging.”

“I’d hate to see you insulted.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. His lips parted and he drifted closer. “Lily. I may call you Lily, can’t I?”

Her heart in her throat, she could only nod.

“Lovely Lily. Have you kissed a man before?”

She shook her head. Gulped hard. “Have you?”

He considered the sky and hooted in laughter. “No.”

Realizing her mistake, she laughed and rested her forehead against his chest. He stepped against her and the planes of his body were warm, solid temptation. He was aroused. She was flattered that he could be attracted to her…and she wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled closer to him.

“My lord?” a young lad’s voice interrupted them.

She pushed away. Where was her brain? Her sense of decorum?

Julian cleared his throat. “Yes, Colin. Good of you to do this for me.”

“And for me, Colin.” Lily smiled at the gangly young man who stood before them and pulled his forelock. “We’re grateful you came out so late at night.”

“Not a thought you should give it, milady.”

“Oh, I’m—”

“The lady,” Julian told him, “is honored you’ve done her and me the favor.”

“I’m pleased to do it, milord. Your horses are ready.”

“We won’t be long, Colin. Thank you.”



They mounted and urged the horses to a walk along a country lane. They spoke little, a quiet camaraderie Lily relished. The sounds of the wind rustling the trees was their only accompaniment.

“It smells like rain. Do you think it might?” Lily asked him.

“Perhaps. We’re not far from where I wanted to take you. Follow me. We may still have time before it starts.”

He spurred his horse to a trot and she followed him down the lane. At once, he stopped, turned and waited for her to catch up.

“There,” he pointed toward a flat plain before them. “If you’d like to try your hand at racing Polly, here’s your chance.”

She surveyed the terrain, rising in her saddle and smiling. “It seems to be more than three acres.”

“Four. You cannot see it well in the dark, but it’s a lovely clear expanse where you can enjoy yourself. Trust me when I say that Polly will, too.”

Lily patted the mare on the neck. “She’s very responsive.”

“Knows her manners, that one.”

“Will you ride with me?”

“Better yet. Shall I race you?” he offered.

“Why not? You know Polly’s speed better than I, especially against that fine beast you’ve got here.”

“Horatio knows when to let a lady win.”

“That’s not very sporting,” she challenged him with a tip of her chin. “You assume I’m no match for you.”

Horatio snorted.

Julian chuckled. “He knows Polly and you.”

“Doubtful, sir,” she teased him.

He arched a disdainful brow. “We’ll race. Straight to the stone barrier. You’ll know it when you see it. Four feet high, pale stone. No jumping it, mind you. Turn. Then back to this marker. Here under this tree.”

“And the winner gets to name her own prize.”

“Ha! What did you have in mind?”

“Another run tomorrow night?” she asked with giddy hope.

“Incorrigible, you are.”

“A deal?”

“Of course.”

She beamed at him. “Ready?”

Off they went, she in the lead and intent on winning, he at her heels and fast closing the distance.

Polly was a speedy lady and Horatio had met his match. It tickled Lily to bend low in her saddle, feel the power of the animal beneath her and admit that the surge of excitement flowing through her had nothing to do with the horse, the ride or the moonlight.

The freedom of it, that Julian had arranged it for her, raised her laughter and her appreciation of him. She liked him, much more than she’d anticipated, more than she’d predicted when they’d met in Paris. There, she’d been struck by his classic handsomeness, his form. There, she’d thought him imperial, so far above her socially that she’d been aghast at his attentiveness. Now that she knew him, she could acknowledge he was generous, kind and so attractive that she could not, would not ignore him.