Of a Man’s Interests

 

The salty tang of the sea air and the music of the waves had tempted Rosalyn beyond bearing and she’d stepped out onto the balcony to enjoy the evening’s cool breeze. She’d eyed the waves, struggling with the desire to slip out of her shift altogether and frolic in the waves as she had as a child. After all, everyone else had surely long since fallen asleep. She’d always loved the water. As a child, her uncle had taught her to swim like a fish.

The sea breeze had fluttered around her and she’d let her shawl fall back to enjoy the breeze on her skin. She’d stayed that way, lulled by the soft song of the ocean waves until a movement near the garden’s edge caught her eye.

Ethan had stood there, apparently fresh from a swim himself, barefoot, carrying his boots, with his cravat loose around his neck. He’d looked so virile, so masculine.

She’d been unable look away. The sight of his tanned, hard-muscled chest and rippling abdomen had caught her up in an unexpected whirlpool of emotions and had unleashed desires she’d long thought extinct. God, he had such a sinful mouth. What would it feel like to have him suckle her breasts?

Only then had she realized the state of her undress. She’d raced back to her room and snuffed the candles, plunging her bedroom into darkness.

Rosalyn drew a long, shuddering breath.

Her passionate side had gotten her into trouble once before. She couldn’t let it emerge again.

“You’re here to observe and write a report, young lady,” she chastised herself in a whisper.

She certainly wasn’t supposed to imagine his wickedly sinful lips drawing her nipple deep into his mouth to…

“Merciful heavens!” She fanned her warm cheeks and jumped to her feet.

She’d start her report now as a measure of discipline. She grabbed her journal, lit the candle on the writing desk, and sat down to business.

 

Social Competency:

The man possesses a social charm that will no doubt pique the interest of his future bride upon their first meeting.

 

She paused and nibbled the end of the feather quill, wondering if she should scratch out ‘social charm’ and replace it with ‘sensual charm.’ After all, he’d provoked a particularly strong reaction from herself, hadn’t he? She twisted her lip and decided against it, lest the candidate bride misunderstand, and for the very first time, she wondered just who the young lady might actually be.

* * *

Rosalyn twirled on the beach in the early morning sun and peered up into the sky. The day promised to be an exceptionally beautiful one. Puffs of white clouds scurried across the blue expanse overhead. A colony of black-legged kittiwakes complained noisily from the nearby chalk cliffs. Gulls rode the wind. In the distance, children squealed as they collected shells and seaweed in the tidal pools.

She smiled and slipped out of her shoes. There wasn’t a speck of sand in sight, only multi-colored pebbles stretching out in all directions. She’d always thought a beach should have sand, but the pebbles proved interesting enough beneath her feet. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply of the fresh morning air, and let the waves wash over her bare skin as she squished her toes.

The pounding of hooves from behind made her glance over her shoulder.

She’d recognize those broad shoulders anywhere. It was Lord Ethan Brodie. He rode low over the neck of his horse as the animal’s great hooves scattered the pebbles like sand. It was hard to look away. The man was all roguish good looks and moved in a way that caught the eye.

Rosalyn realized he was headed straight for her.

She winced. It was too late to pretend she hadn’t seen him. He’d caught her in her shift last night. She couldn’t let him catch her now with her ankles well exposed. With a frown, she hurried for her slippers, but with wet feet, they were impossible to wrestle on.

“No need to stop on my account,” Ethan’s deep baritone announced as he arrived.

The man and horse made a striking picture, and her eyes latched onto the sensuous play of his muscular arms as he jumped down from the saddle and grabbed his horse’s bridle. She’d thought him handsome the day before, but this morning, he exuded an overwhelming magnetic allure in his gray morning coat, white shirt, and buckskin trousers, and even though he’d been riding, she could find nary a wrinkle in sight.

Suddenly aware she’d been staring, Rosalyn bobbed a quick curtsey. “Good morning, my lord.”

Ethan dipped his head in reply and with an easy smile, led his horse forward to join her. “And a good morning to you, Lady Rosalyn. I trust Lady Sarah has recovered from the journey?” His teeth flashed, brilliantly white.

“My aunt intends to spend the day in the parlor with a good book.” His smile was infectious. She found hers curving up in response.

Ethan’s blue-gray gaze dropped to her bare toes. “You seem to enjoy what the sea offers. Do you swim?”

Her blasted bare feet. A flush of heat rose in her cheeks, and she quickly returned to the business of wriggling her feet into her shoes. Must she always be in some state of undress before the man?

“I confess that I love to swim,” she admitted, flustered. “I fear my uncle taught me to swim like a fish.”

“Fear?” he queried lightly. “Why is that a bad thing?”

Finally, the slipper slid over her heel and she straightened to find him eyeing her with obvious interest. Her heart skipped a beat. “As a child, I was rather a tomboy, if you must know. I drove my poor aunt to the brink of exhaustion whenever I visited. My uncle sought to tire me with swimming, riding, and the like.”

“Skills to be admired, assuredly,” he rumbled in his Scottish brogue.

There was an undeniable heat in his gaze. Her pulse began to race.

“You should try the bathing machines while you’re here.” He patted his horse on the withers. “I’ve heard they’re quite remarkable. I’d try them myself, but I fear I shan’t find the time before I leave.”

Rosalyn blinked. “Leave?”

“I intend to sail the balloon across the channel soon,” he explained in an easy manner, then offered her his arm. “Shall I escort you to the house?”

“Not too soon, I hope?” She needed at least several weeks, if not more. How soon was soon?

Ethan’s smile took on a playful gleam. “Why, Lady Rosalyn, are you saying you’ll miss me?”

It was quite unlike her to blush, but heat creep up her neck. Oh, dear. This wasn’t at all good. If she didn’t manage to control herself, she’d be thinking scandalous thoughts of him next. She bit her lip and dropped her gaze, only to find her eyes drawn to his groin like a magnet.

Flustered, she quickly slipped her arm through his. “I did not mean to pry, my lord.” This line of questioning had to end. Now. She jerked her gaze back to his face.

His sinfully attractive mouth had widened into a teasing grin. “I admit, I’m disappointed. I would much rather you pry,” he said as they began their walk up the path

Her stomach fluttered. “I would not be so bold, my lord.”

“Oh? I rather like a bold lass.” To her surprise, he stopped, and his blue-gray eyes bored directly into hers.

It was almost as if some unseen force pulled her in. Suddenly, he seemed so large, so masculine, and every sensual inch of him stood out in remarkable detail. The manner in which the corners of his lips curled. The way his shoulders rose and fell with each breath. He smelled fresh, of horse and the sea mixed with a tinge of citrus, and was that lavender? She could only admire the sharp line of his jaw jutting out against the whiteness of his shirt and the elegant twist with which he’d tied his cravat.

His muscles flexed under her hand, so warm and hard, and desire ripped through her body. The tremor of heat shattered the timeless moment and left her shocked at her heated response.

Quickly, Rosalyn slid her arm from his. “I thank you, my lord, but I can find my way from here.”

He reached for her and called her name, but she ignored him and ran back to the house.

The man was attractive—dangerously so. Until she regained control of the powerful emotions she’d unwittingly unleashed, it would be a mistake of the highest order to spend time in his company.