A Woman of Passion by Virginia Henley Read Free Book Online

looking for Cavendish, but the moment shespotted him, she pretended not to notice him. When she saw that he, too, was wearing green, her pulses quickened.
    Cavendish greeted the Zouches and reined in beside Lord John to exchange a few words. Bess hoped he wouldn't single her out in front of Lady Zouche, but he did it so deftly, no one seemed to notice. His big bay gelding sidestepped away from a pair of hounds, and as he curbed its agitation, their stirrups almost touched. “Follow my lead,” Cavendish instructed, then moved off to greet his friend Henry.
    Three grooms joined the Zouches, one each for Lady Margaret and her two young ladies. Bess maneuvered her mount away from the family and walked her horse slowly to the outer perimeter of the hunters. If she meekly did as Rogue Cavendish bade her and followed him it would be tantamount to throwing in her hand and conceding him victory. It would signal to him that she would obey his every command, and Bess had no intention of sending him such a signal of compliancy. Since he enjoyed the chase, she was determined to lead him on one.
    When the hunt master released the hounds and sounded his long brass horn, most of the hunters thundered off after the dogs. Bess watched Cavendish. Without a backward glance he kept pace with the pack across the fields, then veered off to the left when he reached the woods.
    Bess sat her horse, keeping it reined in so it could not follow the others. She wondered if her ploy would work. She had almost given up hope when she saw the lone rider emerge from the trees. Her heart soared. Cavendish had circled back to see where the devil she was. The corners of her mouth lifted triumphantly as she dug her heel into her chestnut's flank and sped off across thefields in the opposite direction of the hunt and Cavendish.
    She bent low over her mount's neck and urged her on in an encouraging tone. Bess knew it was only a matter of time before he overtook her, if indeed he had taken up the chase. She resisted looking back. She would find out soon enough. His gelding was far more powerful than her horse and he was astride, while she was hampered by the sidesaddle. Once she reached the trees, she could guide her smaller mount more quickly than her pursuer would be able to guide his, but it was inevitable that the hunter would capture his quarry.

F OUR
    A powerful hand took the reins and brought her horse to a halt. “Why the devil did you flee from me?” His words shot out like steel-tipped arrows.
    For the sheer pleasure of it!
Bess gazed at him wide-eyed, breathless. “Because I was afraid.” It was not wholly a lie. Would he vent his anger on her?
    “God's death, I won't rape you!”
    Her breasts rose and fell as she gasped for air. “Do I have your word on it, sir?”
    “Certainly.” His eyes narrowed. “God's blood, you're a clever wench; you've already got me on the defensive.”
    “A position you detest.” Her eyes danced with laughter.
    “I'll show you a position,” he growled, but the amusement was back in his eyes and she decided to trust him, though not too far. His hand never left her bridle, and now he led her deeper into the woods at a leisurely pace. They rode at least three miles before he found a small clearing beside a shallow brook.
    “Privacy is a precious commodity.” He dismountedand tethered their horses where the animals could nibble the grass. Then he moved close to her stirrup and looked up into her face. “For the next few hours you are for my eyes only.”
    He held up powerful arms and watched Bess linger long over her hesitation before she came down into his arms in a flurry of velvet skirt and petticoats. Audaciously, he held her captive against him after her feet touched the ground—not long enough to frighten her, but long enough to savor her lemon scent of verbena, and certainly long enough to press her breasts against his chest and brush his hard shaft against her soft belly. When she pulled away, he did not