Breathing in a heavy sigh, he shook his head. “Nothing that made any sense.” He called his brother’s words to mind. “He told me I did not deserve to live, that I was a curse upon this world, and he would be the one to end it.”
“Lawd, what a rotter!”
Lash nodded in agreement. “Then the bastard stabbed me. I did not linger to demand an explanation after that.”
“Once you catch him, be sure to demand answers.”
“I will.” Without seeming to move, they were suddenly much closer. “And I will find my sister, even if I must spend my entire life searching for her.”
“I shall help you find her,” she declared. “I promise.”
She was doing it again—unraveling his heart. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to lower his head and brush his lips against the softness of hers. Instead, he forced himself to turn back to the horse. “You should go.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
Lash shut his eyes. An instant later a small hand settled against his rigid back. The same spark that leaped to life whenever she touched him flared up. He whirled around.
“Go.”
She shook her head. “Nay.”
“Honoria, if you do not leave, I won’t be able to stop myself.”
“I’m not leaving.”
So be it.
He reached out and yanked her against him, winding his arms around her waist. Staring down into her eyes, so expressive, so hungry for adventure, he bent his head to capture her lips with his. This time there was no fever threatening to interrupt their embrace. This time, another kind of fever raged through his blood, scorching his veins, licking at his skin.
He pushed her up against a stall door, his fingers threading into her hair. Lash was powerless to resist her. He deepened the kiss and lifted her legs to better accommodate him, his knee pushing between her thighs. She tasted like honey. Sweet, provocative and entirely too good for the likes of him. Still, he devoured her like a slave consuming a stolen morsel of bread. His tongue darted between her lips, savoring every last drop of her taste.
She was an addiction. Intoxicating. His past melted away at her touch. And for those heartbeats, where their bodies connected, he allowed himself the fantasy of staying with her forever.
Behind them, Bach snickered.
Reluctantly, while he still possessed the strength, Lash unlocked his lips from hers and lifted his head. Words failed him. With an unsteady exhalation, he bowed his head and rested it against her temple. “Honoria.”
“The way you say my name sounds dangerous.”
“That’s because you are dangerous.”
“Me?” Her light laughter drew his insides tight. “I am no more than a wee lass, nothing dangerous about me at all.”
“That’s where you are wrong, woman.”
A throat cleared from the stable doors.
Lash’s gaze whipped to the sound. A man, unfamiliar to him, stood staring at them with hard, unfathomable eyes.
“Mr. Ross,” Honoria croaked out. “We did not see you there.”
“Aye, I imagine you did not.”
Lash cursed. He still had Honoria pushed up against the stall. With the grace of a tiger, he unwrapped his limbs from her, setting her back on her feet. “You should go back to the castle,” he urged.
“We shouldbothreturn to the castle,” she insisted, eyes settling on Ross.
Lash cast her an exasperated look. From the set of her chin, he could tell she was not moving an inch without him. Something unfurled in his chest. Humor. It took root in his jaw and sprouted into an unrepentant grin.
“She has nine brothers,” Ross said as they passed him.
Honoria groaned.
“I’ve heard.” Lash halted before the head groom, bracing for the inevitable sneer to curve the man’s mouth. To his surprise, none was forthcoming. “Is there going to be a problem?”
“Only if you hurt her.”
“Then I reckon there will be no problem.”
