Wicked in Your Arms (Forgotten Princesses #1)(45)

Jack lifted his head from his plate at this. “Hmm, what’s that?” he asked, looking at each of them with blinking dark eyes. “We’re leaving early?”

Cleo leaned close and lightly touched his sleeve. “I think the house party is on the verge of dissolving.”

He grunted and returned to his meal. “Suppose it doesn’t matter where we are so long as you two are out and about in Society.”

Bitter indignation ate up her chest and throat. Grier’s cheeks burned and prickled. Jack cared only for marrying them off and winning a place among the ton. Lately there had been a few times when she’d thought he might actually care for her. She thought fate might have been kind enough to give her a second chance with a new father who might, beneath his gruff exterior, actually love her.

Suddenly feeling the need for some fresh air, she set down her spoon and rose. “Excuse me.”

Cleo sent her an encouraging smile.

Grier gave a nod before turning and striding away, her skirts swishing around her ankles. Unaccustomed to the love of a good father, her sister could tolerate Jack far better than she.

She slipped away through the back of the house and took the servants’ path to the stables, chafing her hands over her arms as she went, musing that she should perhaps have fetched a cloak. Rather than go back and risk bumping into anyone, she hurried her steps to reach the shelter of the stables.

Once there, she stopped on the threshold, taking comfort in the earthy aromas. The smell of leather, hay, and horseflesh. All familiar. All comfortable. It reminded her of the home she left behind.

Her strides slow and easy, she strolled inside, down the wide lane between several stalls. She felt immediately better. More at peace. A beautiful stallion stuck his head over the door and nickered at her as she passed. She backed up a step to stroke his sable neck. He whinnied in approval and she cooed to him, deepening the stroke of her fingers against his velvety coat.

“Aren’t you a handsome boy?” she murmured. “Such a fine lad, hmm?”

“Never thought I’d be jealous of a horse.”





Chapter Sixteen

Grier whirled around.

Sev stood before her, his cheeks raw from the cold winter air. His hair was tousled and windblown and midnight dark. Her stomach fluttered at the towering sight of him.

She went back to patting the horse’s neck, struggling to appear unaffected at his sudden appearance. A definite challenge when she could only think of the night before in his bedchamber.

“Did you enjoy your ride?” she asked in a voice that did not even sound like it belonged to her, so small and breathless.

He advanced on her, looking dangerous and predatory with his piercing eyes and hard jaw. He didn’t answer her, didn’t speak. His silence unnerved her more than anything he could have said.

She backed up until the door of the stall stopped her from moving any further. Still, he kept coming.

Her hand tapped at her side nervously, tangling in her skirts. She looked desperately to the right and left. No one. No groom lurked about the many stalls. Not a single soul. They were all alone. For now at least.

Suddenly it was last night again. Only this time she wouldn’t run away. This time she would be bold. She would take what she wanted. She would take him.

They leapt at each other, came together in a fierce union of grasping hands and melding lips.

Their mouths met in a furious mating. He fell against her and she slammed back against the stall door. The wood slats knocked from the force. His body flattened against hers, all warm, hard lines covering every inch of her.

She ran her hands through his hair, reveling in the dark silken strands as cold as the wind whipping outside, almost icy against her palms—but that did nothing to chill the heat stirring inside her.

“Grier,” he groaned, dragging his mouth down her throat.

She sighed, arching her neck for him. Closing her eyes, she forgot everything. Everything but this. Him. Her.

A sharp male voice cracked over the air and Grier jerked. Someone was approaching.

She beat a small hand against Sev’s shoulder, forcing him to stop.

He pulled away from her, chest heaving, staring at her hungrily with his heavy-lidded gaze as the angry voice grew nearer.

Smoothing a trembling hand down her bodice, she stared wide-eyed at him. She shivered at the promise she read there, the promise that this wasn’t finished. That they weren’t done.

“Dammit, boy, are you mentally deficient? How is it someone absconded with three horses and you heard nothing?”

“I’m sorry, milord. I didn’t hear a sound all night.”

The earl and a stable boy hurried down the lane between the stables side by side. The earl’s man traveled several paces behind, as if he wanted to distance himself from his angry master.

The copper-haired stable lad seemed unaware that he should proceed with such caution. He sputtered profuse apologies for sleeping through the night and not waking when Lady Libbie and her cohorts snuck three horses from the dowager’s stables.

The blustering earl finally reached the end of his control. He turned on the boy and knocked him to the ground.

Grier choked out a small cry as the slight boy flew several feet before landing on his side. His small face crumpled from the pain. He curled himself tight and clutched his arm close to his thin chest.

Grier hurried forward and crouched beside him, gently touching his shoulder. “Are you all right?”