Page 75 of A Potion for Passion

Flora shifted in her seat in an agony of indecision. Should she get down, too? She feared if she did her courage would fail her and she’d renege on her promise and run all the way back to Fortuneswell.

Her body, however, refused to cooperate.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he called as he set about putting chocks under the wagon wheels. “I could get a fire going, if you like.”

“No. I don’t want anything,” she replied in a tremulous voice. Why couldn’t the damned man get just on with it? The waiting was killing her.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, stripping off his coat and throwing it onto the close-cropped grass.

“Quite,” she replied. Whatever was he doing now?

In moments he’d pulled his shirt over his head and stood half-naked by the bank of the stream.

She shaded her eyes. He wasn’t going to remove all his clothes, was he? Was she expected to do the same?

Her trembling ebbed away, replaced by a fierce curiosity.

He sat down on a fallen tree trunk and discarded his shoes and stockings. Leaning forward, she tried to get a better look, but he turned away from her, presenting her with a splendid view of his muscular shoulders, tapered waist, and slender hips. She admired the delightful curve of his buttocks as he knelt down on the bank of the stream and dipped his head in the water.

He came up laughing, scattering the drops from his hair as he shook his head like a dog shaking its pelt. Charley bounced around him yapping with excitement, and the three horses snorted, drank, and snorted some more.

He was like a wild creature, she thought, as he slicked his hair down, wiped his hands on his bare chest, and walked back to her with a harsh command to Charley to mind the horses. He leaped up onto the box.

He smelled of fresh air and autumn breezes.

“Damn, that water was cold,” he said, slightly breathless. “I keep forgetting it’s October already.” He gave her a melting look with his dark, sensual eyes. “Now, Miss Hartington, shall we begin?”