Wicked Angel (10 page)

"Would you call me Lauren?" Her question startled him; she asked it as if it were some tremendous personal favor.

"On one condition," he muttered. "You go down that hill with me."

She laughed charmingly. "I am quite prepared, sir. You will not find a braver woman in all of England."

He believed that was true. With his arms and legs wrapped firmly around her, they sped to the bottom of the hill, Lauren laughing gaily, fearing nothing. In the flats, Alex pulled the sled to a stop and clambered to his feet. Exhilarated, he yanked her to hers. She found that amusing, and laughing with one another as if they were old friends, the two trudged to the top of the hill, turning the sled over to the children once again.

They stood to one side as the children took turns sledding, chatting about Rosewood. She explained the demise of the family home, and how she and the vicar had schooled the children. With a proud gleam in her eye, she spoke of her vision for Rosewood, where orphans could come and learn the skills they needed to be happy, contributing adults. In her vision, Rosewood was not the run-down, overused and overtaxed farm it was presently. It flourished with life. He could not help but think of the call for reforms by people just like the Hills, with the same hopes and dreams, who were desperately trying to survive.

"Paul says we must have fair representation in Parliament to fix things," she had said. Paul was right, and for the first time since assuming the title, Alex could see how very important that notion was.

Alex in turn told her about his quest for the buck, omitting the small detail that he had not looked for the ornery beast since the day he had found her fencing with Leonard.

And he asked her to call him Alex.

When a bank of gray clouds began to creep into the sunny day, Alex suggested to Lauren that it was time she took the children home. Theodore protested, grabbing Lauren's hand and imploring her to go with him for one last run. "Would you mind terribly much?" she asked Alex with a charming smile.

As if he could deny that smile a blasted thing. "I will wait with the children at the bottom of the hill," he told her, and with a wink for Theodore, herded the gaggle to the bottom.

She and Theodore were having quite a discussion at the top of the hill. When Theodore climbed in front, Alex clenched his jaw. Lauren intended to steer. Theodore looked a little pale as the sled started down the hill, but Lauren was grinning as they picked up speed. Alex sucked in his breath as she shakily steered the sled toward the two trees. He took a step forward as the sled skimmed the edge of the rock and headed straight for one tree, his pulse pounding in his neck when he realized how quickly they were sledding. Alex heard a sharp intake of breath, and was not sure if it was he or Leonard who shouted to mind the tree.

She managed to veer around the tree at the last possible second, but the sled came perilously close to the trunk and spun out of control. Thick fingers of fear closed sharply around Alex's heart as he helplessly watched the tumble of her red cloak fly across the snow. The shouts and screams of the children startled him from his shock; he and Leonard raced for the fallen riders.

She was lying face down, her cloak a stark, ruby red puddle in the snow. Alex scrambled up the hill, slipping and sliding in his haste to get to her. When he reached her, Theodore had come to his feet and stood above her, a look of sheer panic on his face. The lad nodded that he was unhurt to Leonard's frantic question. Alex fell to his knees and placed his hands gingerly on her back. Thank God, at least she was breathing. She made a sound, and he quickly rolled her to her back.

Lauren flung her arms wide, her blue eyes sparkling vividly as she burst into melodious laughter. Stunned, Alex sat back on his heels and stared at her. Her cheeks stained deep pink with the excitement, she
laughed
.

"I think my cloak caught the rudder!" she happily attempted to explain, and struggled to sit up. His heart pounded mercilessly in his chest, and Alex sat heavily in the snow. Still laughing, Lauren struggled to her feet, smiling cheerfully at the two young boys. "I am sorry if I frightened you, but I am really quite all

right."

"Aye," Leonard mumbled, obviously still frightened. Theodore could only gape at her.

Alex stumbled awkwardly to his feet. "You gave me quite a start, madam."

Lauren chuckled and brushed the snow from her cloak before lifting her beaming face to his. "It is quite exhilarating, is it not?"

"Quite," he said evenly, and glanced at the children. "She is fine," he said gruffly, and with a firm grasp on her wrist, turned on his heel and marched down the hill, annoyed that his heart continued to slam against his ribs. As far as he was concerned, the little chit was banned from sledding for life. Lauren ran to keep up with him, and when they reached the children, she laughed at her exploit, until none of the faces around her showed any sign of fear.

It was not until Alex was at Dunwoody with a port under his belt that he could finally relax from the scare that fearless little chit had given him. It was not until he had three ports under his belt that he could stop analyzing why that was.

Lauren paused from her chore of mending a protective wire cage the cattle had destroyed around a sapling and examined her progress. She frowned; she simply had to stop daydreaming if she was
ever
going to complete this chore.

Honestly, she had not put in a full day's work since Alex Christian had tried to help her over that fence.

For two full weeks, she had thought of little else than the country gentleman who had appeared from nowhere to capture her imagination and her heart. He had so fully occupied her thoughts that she could hardly concentrate long enough to see a task through, and kept forgetting things that had to be done.

Even now, on her knees amidst a tangle of wire, she was imagining an intimate, candle-lit supper with Alex. Dressed in formal black attire resembling what she had seen Magnus wear on occasion, he was gazing at her with eyes of warm green. And of course,
she
looked fabulous, wearing a magnificent gown of blue satin, trimmed in seed pearls that matched the wreath of pearls on her head. Naturally, he complimented her profusely.

With a laugh, she shook her head and wrapped the wire around a fat stick protruding from the ground.

The intimate supper was just one of her many little dreams. There was the daydream in which he worked beside her in the fields, sweat glistening on his muscular forearms as he proclaimed her the wisest of all women for having established her trade. And the one in which he played with the children on a luscious

green and impeccably trimmed front lawn. There was the daydream in which she rode behind him on Jupiter, her arms clasped tightly around his rock hard middle as they galloped across lush meadows.

She sat back on her heels and smiled up at the sky. And there was her favorite, the one in which he took her in his arms, his green eyes piercing through to her very soul, a seductive smile on his lips. The one in which his head descended, excruciatingly slow, his lips parting slightly—

"Lauren?"

She gasped, turning sharply toward the sound of Alex's voice. Leaning against a tree, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, he had obviously walked up from the pumpkin field. Heat immediately flooded her cheeks—God, he had not actually
seen
her thinking about the kiss, had he? "You startled me."

She laughed nervously, and brushed the back of her hand against her cheek in a vain attempt to erase the stain of embarrassment.

"Jupiter is just below in the pumpkin field, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all!" Jupiter could graze in the drawing room for all she cared. Smiling, she pushed herself to her feet, shaking the dirt from her cloak. "I am glad you have come! The children have talked
so
much about you, my brother Paul insists on meeting this sledding pirate," she said. "He is beginning to think you are a figment of our imagination."

"Perhaps another time," he said simply.

His response struck her as oddly distant. Surely he was not surprised she would want to introduce him to her family. She had little choice; Paul knew she had seen Mr. Christian on a handful of occasions now, and had demanded he be brought round to meet him. Lauren had hedged at first, telling him that Alex was a visiting gentleman whom she happened to encounter from time to time. But after the sledding, Paul had quizzed her suspiciously. What sort of man, he asked, invited the children sledding without meeting her family? She had made light of it. But then she had met Alex, quite accidentally, one afternoon in front of Mrs. Pennypeck's bakery, and they had strolled about Pemberheath. Paul had heard about it from Mr.

Goldthwaite, who had turned so red when he had seen them together that she feared his heart would rupture. Paul had
demanded
to meet the mysterious country gentleman then.

"He will not bite, you know," she laughed nervously.

He smiled thinly, his expression far too serious as he pushed away from the tree. "There is something I must say to you."

Her heart skipped a beat at the absurd thought that flitted through her mind. Good God, she was hopeless! He had not given her
any
sign that he would be interested in anything more than the casual friendship they enjoyed. Nonetheless, she blushed profusely. "Judging by the look on your face, it must be a very serious topic, sir. Something very grave, indeed. Did you forget the name of the local poet I told you about?" His smile deepened a bit, but Lauren was struck by the peculiar, almost remorseful look in his eyes.

"No, I have not forgotten," he said quietly. He took another reluctant step toward her and glanced at the sapling.

She did not like the look on his face, not at all, and swept the wide-brimmed straw hat from her head to give her trembling hands something to hold. "The cattle, they rub against it, but the tree is so small they have almost killed it," she explained, and looked at the sad tree, her mind racing, her words filling the awkward silence. "I cannot seem to fasten the wire," she added softly.

"I am leaving on the morrow."

Leaving?
Lauren caught her breath; she felt as if he had just punched her in the gut. He could not be leaving, he simply could not! A tidal wave of confused emotions swept over her, and she fought to maintain some modicum of decorum. "I… I don't know what to say. I thought… I suppose I thought…" she stammered uncertainly, her eyes riveted on the wire.

"I came only temporarily, to hunt, but I have stayed longer than I should have. I have responsibilities—"

"Responsibilities?" she blurted. Oh God, he was married, and for the last two weeks she had been dreaming about him like some silly, smitten schoolgirl, practically
drooling
each time she saw him. He must think her the biggest fool!

"I have a home and family," he was saying. Her mind quickly rifled through all the possible scenarios she could have imagined, but this had to be the worst. He was
married
. "My brother has corresponded recently that there are matters requiring my immediate attention."

Lauren wanted to die right where she stood. Her face flaming, she could not bring herself to look him in the eye, certain that her every thought, her every little fantasy, was plainly evident on her face. "Well, there you have it," she blustered unthinkingly. "I am sorry… I mean, the
children
will be very sorry, but if you have responsibilities, I would be the last person to think you should not attend to them right away. Responsibilities are very important—I try to instill in the children the importance of responsibilities all the time, and I certainly would not want them to think that Mr. Christian does not take his responsibilities seriously, and of course they
would
think so if you continued to stay at your hunting lodge without thought to—"

"Lauren," he said softly. Only then did she realize he had moved to stand only inches from her. She hoped to high heaven he could not see she was fighting for breath, that she was silently dying in front of his very eyes. When his hand lifted to her cheek, she gasped at the roiling wave of sweet hysteria his touch shot through her. "I wish I did not have to go, either. But I must."

"Oh," she said, and shrugged lightly, still unable to meet his gaze. "It's quite all right, Mr. Christian, truly it is." He took a step closer, his fingers trailing along the line of her jaw. Her heart began to slam against her chest in terrifying rhythm. "The, ah, the children… they will miss you, but—"

"Will you?"

She bit her tongue to keep a shout of mad laughter from bubbling forth. Was he mad? Could he not
see
just how badly she would miss him? She slowly lifted her gaze to his, having no earthly idea what one said on such a monumental occasion as this. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, his green eyes piercing hers, just like her daydream. "Will you?" he repeated softly.

Everything in her screamed to be aloof, to not let him know just how much she would miss him. "Maybe,"

she choked out.

A faint smile appeared on his lips, and he bent his head, his lips descending to hers. Holy Mother of God, he was going to
kiss
her! After days of fearing it, her knees finally buckled, and she stumbled backward against the wire cage. He smiled lazily at her complete discomfiture, and slowly, deliberately, leaned down until his lips touched hers.

The sensation of it rocked her.

Her body strained for air. His hand caressed the nape of her neck while the other slipped around her waist and pulled her into him. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and she wondered, insanely, if he could feel her heart slamming fitfully against him, threatening to break violently free. His lips moved lightly across hers, softly shaping them, tasting them as if they were some delicacy. His tongue flicked across the seam of her lips, and she heard herself moan softly. The pressure of his lips quickly intensified; she must have sighed, because his tongue was suddenly in her mouth, sweeping her teeth, her tongue, and the valleys of her cheeks. His hand cupped her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.