A wild turn sent them toppling into each other, and trees shrouded them in darkness. Lawrence slowed the coach to a stop. In the quiet, every breath was distinguishable. But no one found them.
“Are you all right down there, my lord?” Lawrence whispered.
“Yes,” Jasper replied. “You?”
“Fine, sir. There is an inn up ahead. Off the route, but out of the way. Thought it would be best to rest the horses.”
“Excellent thinking. Thank you.”
Silence stretched as they wound deeper into the trees on a road that twisted back on itself multiple times. Jasper didn’t dare light the lanterns, and he gave up staring into the darkness trying to make sense of the shapes surrounding them.
He took the almost-useless pistol from Annabel. “I told you to stay out of the windows.”
She curved against him, lifting his arm over her shoulders. “Forgive me, but he had a sword, and I like your head where it is.”
Her arm draped across his waist, and her breathing evened out, deepened. Still, she trembled against him. Or perhaps it was his shaking. Jasper closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of travel and the cries of night birds.
He jolted awake when they came to a halt. The pistol was level with the window and cocked before he recognized Frederick. “My apologies.” He lowered the weapon. “Have we arrived?” Beside him, Annabel swung her feet to the floor.
“Yes, your lordship. Lawrence has arranged the room with Mr. and Mrs. Holt, the innkeepers. If you’ll follow me.”
“Fine shooting back there,” Jasper said as he helped Annabel down. “Rifle regiment?”
“Yes, sir. Served with Major Yarwood in Egypt.” The footman led the way up the stairs. “I’ll stand guard downstairs. Lawrence will patrol outside.” His eyes shone over his wide grin. “Stapleton and Travis will be sorry they had to go ahead.”
The innkeeper and his wife waited just inside the room. Their smiles contradicted their bleary stares. “It’s our pleasure to welcome you, your lordship,” the man said. His wife’s curtsy embarrassed Jasper. Had he been in their shoes, he would not have been so good-natured. And, he suspected, if he and Annabel had been any other traveler, they might have had a different reception.
“Thank you for your hospitality and your kindness, Mr. and Mrs. Holt.” Jasper took in their surroundings. The fire was beating the chill from the room at a rapid pace, and two rather exhausted servants were struggling to pour buckets of water into a giant tub. It would take them most of the night.
“Please,” Annabel said. “The bath is very kind, but unnecessary. We are imposing quite enough at this late hour. What you’ve provided here is fine.”
The relief on everyone’s faces was almost laughable.
“As you wish, my lady.” Mrs. Holt curtsied again. “We served stew this evening with a nice, thick bread and fresh butter.” She motioned toward the small table, where the food was already waiting. “It’s only simple fare, but—”
“It will be perfect,” Jasper said. “Thank you.”
Once they were alone, Annabel turned in his arms and stood on her tiptoes to pull his lips to hers for a kiss that was anything but shy. Jasper recovered from his surprise and caught her lips between his. “Now?”
“Now,” she whispered. “Please.”
They undressed without separating for any longer than necessary, and Jasper ran his hands over her skin, letting her wholeness and warmth reassure him. Her touch singed him, carving his muscles into iron and hardening his cock to stone.
He sat on the bed and pulled her between his knees, still kissing her as he lifted her breasts in his hands and stroked her nipples until she was pulling away and pushing his head down, demanding attention that he was eager to give.
Her taste recalled sweets and cream, and she smelled of flowers and spruce. But her nails scraped his scalp as she shuddered against him. Jasper trailed his fingers down her back to her hips and around to her thighs. He pulled away to watch as he slid his fingers inside her.
Annabel’s eyes drifted closed as her teeth dug into her bottom lip, but she rocked forward, taking him deeper into her slick heat. He knew then what he wanted. He nudged her knee with his free hand. “Come up here.” She stepped back with a confused frown, and he tightened his knees and added his now-free hand to the encouragement. “Astride.”
Her sharp inhale made him pause and wait for her to make up her mind. After a long moment, she did as he’d asked. The question in her eyes dissolved as he curved his hands under her hips, letting his fingers trail through her wetness to the spot that drove her wild. “Take your hair down, please.”
One thing he loved about her new hairstyle was how easy it was to disassemble. A few pins, and it coiled down her back. One shake of her head, and it was loose over her shoulders.
Keeping hold of her, Jasper reclined on the bed. His shaft was throbbing between them. “Take me in your hand.” She’d done that before, and it had nearly driven him mad. Today was no different, but he forced himself to follow through with his plan.
“Put me inside you.” He gulped against the instinct to do it himself. “Rise up and come down.” She’d felt him—watched him—do it enough times that he knew she could.
Her heat spread over him slowly until he was fully engulfed. “Bloody hell.”
“Am I hurting you?” She lifted away, and he grasped her hips to pull her back. Her squeal made him smile.
“The only way you’ll hurt me is if you stop—or perhaps twist in an unexpected direction.” He pushed through his heels and pulled her toward him, rocking her as he drove deeper, showing her what he needed from her. “Ride, Annabel.” He rocked against her again. “Ride.”
She moved on him then, meeting him as he surged beneath her, again and again, until he was panting and slick with sweat and her hand was planted on his chest for balance as she raced with him toward oblivion. Her hair shrouded him from everything but the look on her face as they reached it. He pulled her mouth to his to muffle her screams as he found her center and stroked it until she was limp against him.
Jasper rolled her to her back and kissed her damp forehead before rising from the bed. The water in the tub was warm enough for him to wet a cloth and clean himself before returning to the bed and doing the same for Annabel, who was sloe-eyed and smiling. “Jasper?”
His heart pounded in his ears. If she said she loved him, he’d say it back. And he’d mean it.
“I’m starving,” she mumbled.
“Me too.” He fished her shift from the floor and handed it to her before going in search of his trousers. “Let’s eat.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jasper pushed away from the desk and Annabel’s thorough list of necessary repairs, ignored tenant requests, and shoddy workmanship. All his life, his grandfather had lectured him to pay attention to what mattered. It wasn’t that Jasper hadn’t listened. There was just so much that required his management, and there was only one of him.
