What was Kitty afraid of? Not of him, Adam was certain—he hadn’t mistaken that flash of joy when he took her hands, before she successfully masked her feelings. He longed to haul her into his arms and to kiss her, as he used to.
The last vestiges of anger and hurt had drained from him when she explained why she had married Edgar and hope had flowed in to fill the gaps those negative emotions left behind despite Kitty’s assertion that the past could not be altered. Because—although both he and Kitty had changed on the surface—deep inside Adam was confident she was the same Kitty and he was the same Adam. His doubts about his own feelings for her had melted away as completely as his anger and his hurt, and he was as sure as he could be that Kitty was still the woman for him. They belonged together.
For whatever reason, though, she didn’t fully trust him and had erected a barrier to keep him at bay. Was that to protect her feelings? He was not mistaken about her interest in him—her eyes, so guarded when they had first met again, now could not hide her response to him. The instinctive response of a woman to a man she desired.
So, she was afraid of getting hurt again. By him.
She had accepted that he had only denied his love for her in order to protect her, but that didn’t change what he’d done. She’d had fifteen years of believing he hadn’t cared and that he’d lied. It would take time to build her trust and the way to do that was to give her time to get to know him again. To start again, from the beginning.
This time, they were equals. This time, he was going nowhere. This time, he would court her as though they had only just met, as a gentleman would court a lady, and he would do everything he could to change her mind about remarrying.
He tugged open the cottage door and peered outside.
‘You are quite right. The rain has stopped,’ he said, ‘and the thunder has moved away.’
He turned to Kitty, smiling as he spoke, then stepped aside and half-bowed as he swept his arm around, indicating she should leave. She picked up her discarded bonnet, squeezed it, then gave him a rueful smile.
‘I think I shall just carry this.’
She stepped outside and they walked side by side across the meadow towards the lane that would take them back to the Hall. Adam deliberately did not offer her his arm to lean on, but clasped his hands behind his back to control his visceral urge to touch her. She, he noticed, retained her grip on that old piece of sacking, clutching it tight across her breasts.
‘When we danced at Almack’s you spoke of other interests, apart from your stepchildren.’ Adam, alive to every nuance and change in Kitty’s countenance, noticed delicate pink wash across her cheeks. ‘Will you tell me of those? How do you occupy your time here at Fenton Hall?’
She slid him a sidelong look. ‘You speak as though a house the size of the Hall can run like clockwork, with nothing more than a quick wind of a key from time to time.’
‘I know that is not the case, but…’ But I hunger to know all there is to know about you. ‘I am curious as to what interests you have that occupy you fully, as you put it.’
When she did not reply, he continued, ‘After all, as you said, we are as strangers now. And strangers who spend time together—as we shall, while I draw up those plans—can surely indulge in a little polite conversation in order to get to know one anoth—’
A loud retort interrupted him and his immediate thought was that the storm had returned but, even as that idea formed, another bang, followed by a searing pain in his arm, swept it away. He gasped, clutching his upper arm, and then Kitty grabbed him, tugging him to the ground.
‘Stop shooting,’ she screamed. ‘There are people here.’
Adam, his heart thundering in his chest as he scrambled to make sense of what had happened, looked up at Kitty. She was on her knees, above him, staring back across the meadow towards the woods. Adam grabbed her, wincing at the pain in his arm as he tried to pull her lower.
‘Get down!’
She struggled against his pull and he tugged harder until she overbalanced and landed on top of him, face to face. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her still even as she wriggled, trying to free herself.
‘Stop fighting me, Kitty.’
She raised her head and captured his gaze, her grey eyes wide with shock. ‘That was a gunshot, Adam. Whoever it is needs to know we are here, or we might get hit.’ She struggled to bring her hands between them and began to push against his chest, trying to free herself.
Adam tightened his grip, clenching his jaw against the pain. Kitty’s eyes widened further.
‘You’re hurt! Adam!’ She struggled again to free herself.
He forced his words between his gritted teeth. ‘Be still, Kitty. Please.’
His arm burned and stung like the devil, but he was certain the bullet had just grazed him and had not lodged inside. Kitty lay still, breathing fast, her head on his chest, her hair tickling him under his chin.
At any other time…in different circumstances…
He swatted the thought aside. This was hardly the time to be lusting after her. Cautiously, he lifted his head and scanned the woods, about twenty yards distant. There was no sign of anyone, no movement, no sound. He frowned. Could it have been poachers? But why would poachers be out in a thunderstorm? Granted, there would be a lack of keepers or other estate workers around, but surely the wildlife would also take shelter at such a time.
‘I can’t see anyone. Or any movement,’ he said. ‘Hopefully your shout scared whoever it was away.’
‘Robert will be furious about this…he will find who is responsible,’ Kitty said. She had also raised her head and she captured Adam’s gaze again. ‘Where are you hit?’
‘It’s a scratch. Nothing more. It stings a bit, but I’ll live.’
His brain ordered his arms to release Kitty, but the message was ignored. Now he had her in his embrace, he wanted to keep her there. For ever. His gaze moved to her mouth and, as her lips parted to release a faint gasp, he fought the urge to kiss her. He forced his gaze back to hers. Her eyes had darkened and his hand had started its glide up between her shoulder blades to cradle her head—to hold her ready for his kiss—by the time sanity returned. He halted that movement of his hand.
‘It was most likely an accident, but we should not take any chances,’ he said. He rolled her off him and instantly breathed easier. ‘I will see if it is safe. Stay there. Do not under any circumstances move, or even raise your head.’
‘But—’
‘And do not argue!’
Kitty scowled. ‘You are the one who is injured! You should be the one to lie still while I see if it is safe.’
His heart melted. She had always been full of courage and spirit. It was one of the things he had loved about her. ‘Kitty…allow me to do this. Please. Allow me to protect you this time.’
Her scowl smoothed over and she stilled. Then she nodded. Adam rolled on to his side, facing the woods where the shot had come from, then propped himself up on one elbow. Kitty grabbed his hand and he glanced back at her.
‘Take care,’ she whispered.
There was still nothing to be seen and no further shots. Adam sat up. Then stood. Nothing happened. He bent, holding out his hands to Kitty.
‘I think he…they…have gone.’
He’d forgotten his injury in the tension of the moment and, as he pulled Kitty to her feet, his arm shrieked in protest and he could not disguise his wince. Kitty gasped.
‘Adam! All that blood. You said it was a scratch.’ Her small fist punched his other arm, punctuating her words.
‘Steady, or I’ll end up with both arms out of action.’
‘Sorry.’ Kitty stepped closer and, in one swift movement, she tore his bloodied shirt sleeve apart to expose the wound. ‘We need to get you home and clean that up,’ she said. She slipped one arm around his waist. ‘Put your uninjured arm around my shoulders.’
‘There’s no need, Kitty. I’m quite capable of walking unaided.’
‘Adam…’ She fixed him with a stern look. ‘You have suffered a shock and you have lost blood. Lean on me.’
It didn’t take them long to reach the house. Kitty led the way to the same side room where they had taken the flowers and pushed Adam down on to a chair.
‘Stay there. Take off your shirt while I fetch hot water.’
She hurried from the room. Adam stood up again to pull his shirt free from his breeches, then stripped it off over his head. It was ruined anyway—beyond repair, even if the bloodstains could be removed—so he dropped it on the flagged floor. Then he sat down again and examined his upper arm. He sucked in a sharp breath as he probed the groove gouged out by the bullet with the fingers of his left hand. His right hand gripped the edge of the chair seat as pain spiked through him.
‘Don’t touch it!’
Adam looked up as Kitty bustled into the room, carrying a bowl of water and with a linen towel draped over one arm. He straightened, his hand dropping away from his wound to grip the opposite edge of his seat, bracing himself for the pain he knew must come. But Kitty halted before she reached him, her eyes widening as her gaze travelled across his chest and his upper arms. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and heat flooded him as his blood quickened. Her eyes dropped lower and that blood surged to his groin. He shut his eyes, willing his body back under control, desperately forcing his thoughts on to the question of who had been shooting out in the woods in a thunderstorm and away from what he would like to do to Kitty…with Kitty…right here. Right now.
‘Adam…?’
He opened his eyes at her soft enquiry. She’d set the bowl on the table and now stood close enough to touch…close enough for her scent to envelop him. Need overcame judgement and he reached for her, sliding one hand around her slender waist as he searched her expression.
Too soon, you fool. You’ll scare her off.
But she was the one who acted, stepping even closer and cupping his cheek.
‘I can’t bear that you’re hurt,’ she whispered. ‘I need… I just…’ She sucked in a quick breath. ‘You could have been killed.’
She stroked lightly down the side of his face and along his jaw until her fingers rested on his lips, which parted without volition. He closed his eyes once more, the soft sough of her breaths stirring his blood as her light citrus scent wove through his senses. One finger entered his mouth and he closed his teeth gently on it. The soft moan that escaped her had him hard, and hot, and heavy in an instant. He tightened his hold and pulled her on to his lap and their lips met in a fiery, urgent kiss, all hungry lips and duelling tongues as their quiet moans mingled.
She cradled his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed against him, her curves moulding to him, driving him wild. He shifted her, bending her back over his uninjured arm, allowing access to her breasts. His fingers explored her neckline, unbuttoning her bodice and gradually working her gown off one shoulder until he could release one breast from her stays.
Oh, God! His fingers closed around perfection, her skin satiny as the firm globe filled his hand, her nipple taut against his palm. Adam bent to her breast and drew that nipple into his mouth. Her hands fisted in his hair and she arched as he flicked that hard bud with his tongue, then suckled. Her soft moans drove him wild…he slowly tightened his embrace, raising her as he trailed open-mouthed kisses from her breast to her neck and again to her mouth, savouring the taste of those lush lips, holding her close to him, relishing the softness of her breasts as they pressed against his bare chest.
Then her hands were between them, palms flat against his chest, pushing him away, and he released her, the madness and urgency fading to be replaced by regret that he had so readily succumbed to temptation so soon after vowing to court Kitty slowly. From the beginning.
‘Kitty?’
The look she cast him was stricken. Guilty. Ashamed. His heart clenched at the thought she was ashamed of her response to him. He began to wrap his arms around her again, until a searing pain reminded him of his injury. He gritted his teeth against making a sound, but Kitty had noticed, for she took hold of his forearms and gently moved them to release her. As soon as he released his hold again, she scrambled from his lap.