Enchanted by Your Kisses (23 page)

She glared, feeling her facial muscles flex beneath the gag, knowing well he'd understood her the first time she'd said it.

"Of course, my lady. As you wish."

He threw a leg over the horse, hardly making a sound as he landed in the ankle-deep grass, but he took his bloody time getting to her, running the stirrup irons up the leathers, first on one side, then on the other. When he finished, he led the horse toward her, stopping a few feet away.

"Hmm. I must say, you do look a sight. Frankly, I'm tempted to leave you here just so I won't have to listen to your chatter all day."

At that moment, at that very precise moment, she wanted to kill him. At the very least she wanted to fling cow dung upon him. There was a pile of it nearby, for she smelled it.

Instead she forced herself to stand there as he appeared to contemplate his options. His eyes traveled up the length of her from her muddy hem and torn skirt, pausing for an instant at the curve of her hips, then moving on to her breasts, where they lingered for a good long while. A blush filled Ariel's cheeks, a blush that burned nearly as hot as her anger and something else bubbling inside.

Desire.

But she was too bloody angry to care about her ridiculous, unwanted, unacceptable attraction to him, and too bloody furious to care about the way he shook his head in mock concern.

He crossed his arms. "I shall untie you if you promise to behave."

Ha. As if she'd promise him anything.

"No more trying to escape," he ordered, tossing the reins over his arm to tick off items.

She'd try to escape until her legs gave out on her.

"No more complaining about being uncomfortable."

She'd complain until her voice gave out.

"And if you violate any of these rules, I will tie you to the nearest roadside tree and leave you there to await my return."

Jolly well try,
she dared him with her eyes. As if he could do a thing without her help. He needed her to search her house. The realization was power.

"Do you give me your word?"

She wanted to give him something, alright. The pox. The ague. At the very least cankerous sores. "
Thake
your
bloothy
offer an stick it—"

"Ah, ah, ah, my lady," he interrupted. "You'd best watch your unladylike tongue."

"I'll
watcth
thomeone
thoot
you," she growled, her mouth dry from the gag. "In
th'arsth
."

He turned and walked away.

Ariel let him go. The fool. Didn't he realize he needed her? He would stop before he cleared the trees that shielded her from the road.

But he didn't stop.

"Where you
goingth
?" she called.

He stopped, turned to face her.

"There was an inn in town, one with food. I thought I'd eat some breakfast before I leave for
Bettenshire
."

"You
can'th
leave
withouth
me."

"This is quite true, but I can leave you here until I feel like coming to fetch you."

Ooo
, he wouldn't dare.

She looked into his eyes.

He would.

She clenched her hands behind her, wanting to scream, to yell, at the very least to kick something. "I'll
bethave
," she promised, and oh, how it near killed her to say the words.

He gave her that grin males used when they felt vastly superior to the female sex. She was tempted to scar the other side of his face.

He came forward once again, the horse following along behind him like an obedient lamb, shaking its black mane as if upbraiding her for daring to challenge him. She wanted to make a charge for the beast when he untied her hands, then leave
Trevain
in a trail of dust. But she knew that wouldn't be possible. For one, she would never be able to mount in skirts. And two, she doubted she would get two steps before he'd catch up to her. Bloody man. Bloody dress.

Bloody kidnapping.

She felt the rope give way—thankfully, without him touching her—and felt her arms fall to her side. In a flash she had the gag off her face, some of her hair entangling in the knot and pinching as she pulled the material away. She didn't care, she felt too bloody glad to have the thing off of her. A part of her was half tempted to stomp upon it when she tossed it to the ground. She worked her jaw instead, then opened her mouth, not caring that she no doubt looked like a fish gasping for air. It simply felt too splendid to move her lips.

"At last. You have learned how to open your mouth and not say a word."

She whirled on him, half tempted to clout him over the head. "Would that you knew the same trick."

"I know a trick worth two of that."

"Then I
pr'thee
, lend me
thine
."

His brows lifted. "A woman who knows Shakespeare. How remarkable."

"Indeed. About as remarkable as a man with charm, a trait I fear you lack exceedingly."

He lifted black brows. "Indeed, just as you lack a lady's morals."

Ooo
, that wasn't very nice. "A man who hardly exhibits gentlemanly behavior should not cast stones."

"Ah, but I never asked to be born an English gentleman."

"Have no fear, sir, no one would mistake you for one."

"I see you are piqued by my daring to leave you behind while I fetched the horse."

She glared her answer. Smart man.

"Did you think I was foolish enough to take you into the village with me?"

"I thought you gentleman enough to treat me like a lady."

"You'll need to act like one first before that happens."

If she had had a brick, she would have thrown it at his head. Truly.

They stared at each other for a time, Ariel refusing to look away. During their battle of I-can-stare-the-longest she was overcome by the silliest urge to cross her eyes and stick her tongue out. She didn't. And when he looked away, she felt a small measure better. He'd glanced up at the thick canopy of leaves above them, and as always happened when someone looked up, Ariel found herself doing the same thing. Nothing but leaves.
Hmph
. She looked back at him in time to see him frown, then turn his back to her—conversation apparently at an end. It was then that Ariel noticed something she should have noticed before.

There was only one horse.

One horse.
Oh, no,
she thought. No, no, no. She would not ride with him. Would not.

With quick snaps he lowered the stirrups, led the horse out from under the tree and mounted.

"Come," he said, holding out his hand.

"No," she said right back, crossing her arms.

He gave her that jutting-jaw look males assumed. The horse shifted beneath him, apparently sensing his agitation. But she did not want to ride with him. Impossible man. She'd rather ride upon the devil's pitchfork. While it was afire.

"I shall walk," she pronounced, uncrossing her arms to wag a finger.

"Do not be ridiculous. Give me your hand."

"No," she repeated, crossing her arms again on the off chance that he would take it into his dense head to lift her before him.

The horse once again shifted, Nathan expertly calming the beast. He looked to have stepped from a canvas entitled
Tally ho, the mighty lord
rideth
astride.
Not a hair escaped from his queue, not a wrinkle creased his gray jacket. He'd cleaned up in town, she realized. Really, it was quite bothersome, especially since her own appearance was in such disarray.

"My lady, I lack the patience to sit here and argue with you. You will ride with me. At once."

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because."

"Because," he mimicked, "A sterling reason."

She crossed her arms, daring him to make her.

He took up the silent challenge.

She barely had time to react, so quick were his movements as he dismounted, grabbed her arms then tied them behind her back.

"Why, you—"

"Ah, ah, ah," he drawled by her ear. "Not another word, my lady."

Oddly enough, the feel of his breath against her ear silenced her. The realization flummoxed her. She stiffened, her back upright, as she waited for him to put the gag in place. But instead of the material binding her mouth, it fell over her eyes. She didn't say anything, expecting him to turn her around, realize his mistake, then he would tie the material correctly. Instead she felt the black fabric pulled tight, heard the whistle of the material as it was knotted, heard him step alongside, then turn her around.

"Now, my lady. One word out of your mouth, and I shall gag you, too."

Only then did Ariel realize what he planned. He didn't want her to see where they were going, no doubt his way of hindering her should she attempt to escape. Bloody clever man.

When he was done, she heard a rustle. The blanket, she realized, feeling him cover her head and shoulders, then secure it somehow in front of her neck. Obviously he meant to conceal her blindfold by covering her head. Wonderful. No doubt she looked like Sister Mary
Cazignotti
.

He clasped her arm again. She stumbled as he dragged her forward.

"What are you doing?" she moaned.

"Putting you atop the horse." He lifted. She gasped, then swayed back and forth as she landed sideways in the saddle. She felt off kilter somehow. Was it from the touch of his hands? Or was it the result of having to sit upon the horse with nothing to brace her legs. Truly, she did not want to know.

"Give me your foot."

Give him her what? Then she gasped as she felt his fingers close around her ankle. The touch seemed to reach clear into her heart. But how that could be when she hated his bloody guts, she had no idea. And was it her imagination, or did he still for an instant, too? She blushed. Truly, it was a very odd feeling being blind. Did he gaze at her exposed flesh? Leer? Perhaps he stood mesmerized by the sight of her pearly white flesh?

At that moment Ariel was overcome by a feeling of desperation such as she'd never felt since finding out Nathan truly intended to kidnap her. Perhaps it was her fear of him. Perhaps it was her fear of herself, but she dug her heels into his horse's side like they were battering rams.

It was a sign of how flummoxed she was that she didn't think to brace herself before doing so or at the very least grab onto some mane. The horse, as expected, charged forward. She felt her legs lift, felt her seat slide, felt her body tilt back. What happened next was a foregone conclusion.

She landed with an
oomph,
one that turned into a gasp when she heard the horse snort, then buck, its hooves seeming to whoosh past her ears.

Silence descended—well, silence but for the horse galloping away.

Nathan didn't say a word. For half a heartbeat she wondered if he'd been kicked by the horse. Perhaps he'd been knocked unconscious. The thought filled her with hope, then immediately remorse. She sat up, her shoulders aching from the force of her landing. The blindfold had shifted more. She turned her head to scan the ground for Nathan.