Saint Or Sinner Page 2

  All too soon they arrived back at Sir Horace’s mansion, and Philip leapt nimbly to the ground before helping her to dismount. It seemed to her that he held her for just a tad longer than necessary before the groom appeared from the stables to lead her mount away. Their gaze met and locked, speaking volumes, and when she spoke her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Damsels in distress are my speciality, didn’t you know? And I think you can call me Philip now we know one another a little better.”

  He smiled warmly, giving her a sly wink before remounting, and she stared after his tall figure with a thoughtful expression on her face before turning and walking unsteadily back to the house.

  Chapter 3

  Their paths didn’t cross for several days afterwards and her mind was constantly revisiting their eventful encounter on the beach. It seemed that everything had changed between them in just a couple of short hours and she needed time to readjust and examine her feelings. And then there was The Saint, of course. She couldn’t forget either his kiss or his shocking revelation, and the more she considered the evidence the more she became convinced that it had the ring of truth. She avoided Sir Horace Trelawney as much as possible, afraid that her expression might give her away and using a persistent migraine as an excuse to keep to her room for a day or two.

  They were invited to dine with a near neighbour later that week and she knew Philip would be among the guests and couldn’t resist the chance to renew their acquaintance. She wondered how he would be with her, whether the barriers between them would be back in place again and their previous intimacy forgotten. It had been surprising to see such a different side to him, and she found herself wanting to get to know him better as a result. It seemed oddly ironic that until that fateful morning she’d experienced more intimacy with a stranger in a mask than a man she’d known for several months.

  …………

  There were a number of people dining that evening, and although she and Philip had exchanged a conspiratorial smile she hadn’t yet had a chance to speak to him. He was seated at the far end of the long table, and she watched the older women on either side of him simpering and flirting even though they were both under the watchful eye of their husbands. He bore it all patiently enough but she managed to catch his eye and give him a knowing smirk, and he responded with a slight frown and a twitch of the lips which told her everything she needed to know about his state of mind.

  After the meal was concluded the ladies withdrew, leaving the men to their brandies, and Sarah found herself surrounded on all sides by gossiping, twittering women. Eventually the level of noise became too much to bear and she wandered out onto a small balcony to find some peace, taking deep breaths to clear her head. It was a balmy night and the heady fragrance of the roses twining around the old stonework filled her nostrils along with the fresh ozone tang of the distant ocean. She closed her eyes, simply enjoying the solitude, until a deep male voice broke the silence from somewhere below.

  “Meet me by the fountain, Lady Sarah. I’ll be waiting.”

  She recognised the distinctive northern accent immediately but when she opened her eyes and gazed around her there was no sign of him: he’d melted into the shadows like a ghost. Heart pounding, she slipped out into the garden, her feet crunching on the gravel of the path as she walked swiftly towards the little arbour which was home to the fountain. Bending down, she trailed her hand through the cool water before peering out between the trees, wondering which direction he might approach from. It hadn’t crossed her mind not to keep the appointment, she had no fear of him even after so short an acquaintance.

  Without warning a pair of strong arms encircled her from behind and she felt the heat of his mouth against her throat, causing her to cry out in alarm. He chuckled, his breath warm against her ear.

  “Did I startle you, sweetheart? A little bird told me you’d be here tonight and the temptation of seeing you again was too much to resist.”

  He began to nibble on her ear lobe and she sighed, leaning back into his embrace, the sensation sending delicious shivers down her spine. He released her then, brushing his lips across her knuckles before leading her to a nearby bench.

  “I heard what happened on the beach. Are you fully recovered?”

  His pale eyes gleamed in the light from the rising moon and the trees and bushes cast long shadows around them giving the moment a strange dreamlike quality. His knee brushed against hers and she jumped, clearing her throat.

  “I’m well, thank you. I wasn’t harmed, just very shaken. As luck would have it, Philip Hunt happened to be riding at the same time and he came to my rescue.”

  Was that a brief grimace she spotted? He couldn’t be jealous, could he?”

  “So I heard. I hope he behaved like a gentleman, he has a bit of a reputation when it comes to beautiful women.”

  She smiled inwardly. That was the second time he’d called her beautiful.

  “Actually, he behaved impeccably. I dread to think what might have happened had he not been there. Do you know him, then?”

  He looked down at his feet, pausing as if choosing his words carefully.

  “Let’s just say I am … somewhat acquainted with the man.” He changed the subject. “Have you had any dealings with Sir Horace since we last spoke? I should warn you my spies report that he may have designs on you, and that’s why he wants your father so much in his debt.”

  Her jaw dropped, and an unpleasant shudder ran through her at the thought.

  “But he’s more than twice my age and he looks like a toad. Surely he cannot think I would ever seriously consider him?”

  The Saint’s eyes glittered behind the mask.

  “He’s unscrupulous and immoral, and believe me, he has no conscience. Be on your guard, Sweetheart, I wouldn’t put anything past him. And now I must go, there’s another consignment due in tonight and we have important work to do.”

  He helped her to her feet and then without warning his mouth was on hers, stealing her breath and turning her legs to jelly. She couldn’t help herself, melting into his kiss, clutching at his broad shoulders for support as an impassioned moan issued from her throat. He broke away with obvious reluctance and she buried her face in his chest, hearing the rumble of his deep voice close to her ear.

  “The sooner you’re married the better, Sweetheart.”

  She looked up into his face in puzzlement.

  “I’m far too much of a gentleman to seduce a virgin, but a married woman is fair game.”

  He smirked at her shocked expression, and she threw him a haughty stare.

  “And what makes you so certain I’d succumb, Sir?”

  “Oh, I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it.”

  His lips captured hers again, his kiss demanding, possessive, all-consuming, and she couldn’t help but respond with equal enthusiasm. And then his hand slid slowly up from her waist to her breast and she gasped as his thumb skimmed over a nipple and a bolt of raw desire shot through her. Her eyes flew open in surprise and she stepped back, raising a hand to slap him, but he was too quick, grabbing it and kissing the palm while he tugged her back into his arms. She tried half-heartedly to resist but he was much stronger, pinning her back against the trunk of a tree while his mouth ravished her throat, her collarbone, the exposed curve of a breast. A reluctant whimper escaped her lips and he raised his head to gaze down into her flushed face, grinning wickedly.

  “You have a passionate nature, Sarah. Why fight it? I could give you so much pleasure without stealing your virtue if you’d just say the word …”

  She hesitated for a moment, not entirely sure what he meant but sorely tempted, and he saw her uncertainty and pressed his advantage.

  “Think about it, sweetheart. I give you my word as a gentleman to leave you your virginity. Until the next time we meet.”

  He kissed her softly on the mouth and then he was gone, swallowed up by the shadows again, leaving her bre
athless, confused and thoroughly aroused. You are no gentleman, she thought, but her mind was filled with the memory of his hungry kisses and the touch of his warm fingers against her skin. She shivered, wondering whether she would be able to resist him the next time their paths crossed. Or, indeed, whether she even wanted to.

  ………..

  She’d lingered for a while in the garden, her mind in a whirl, and as she made her way slowly back through the house she was startled to hear Philip’s voice directly behind her.

  “Good evening, Sarah. I trust you are fully recovered now?”

  She spun around, her heart skipping a beat as his piercing blue-eyed gaze met hers.

  “I’m very well, Sir, thanks to you.”

  He studied her intently.

  “You look a little flushed, sweetheart. Would you care to take the evening air with me?”

  He led her out onto the balcony and offered her a chair, seating himself opposite her before leaning forwards to take both her hands in his.

  “This is the first chance I’ve had to speak to you all evening. Have you been enjoying yourself?”

  Was that a slight twitch of the lips she wondered, hoping he hadn’t spotted her returning from the garden.

  “I think father and I would both have been a great deal happier in your company, Sir. The conversation was a tad dull down our end of the table.”

  He smiled, clearly pleased with the compliment.

  “Believe me, I would much rather have been seated with you than with Lady Carlyle and her equally ‘charming’ sister.”

  He rolled his eyes and she smirked.

  “But they both appeared to be having such a wonderful time. Your conversation must have pleased them greatly.”

  He quirked an eyebrow and leaned in to whisper.

  “Really? That seems highly unlikely, given the fact that neither of them stopped talking long enough for me to get a word in edgeways.”

  She giggled, shivering at the feel of his warm breath ghosting across her skin. He fell serious again, and she flushed under the intensity of his gaze.

  “Sarah, will you ride with me tomorrow morning? I’m betting you haven’t been on horseback since the incident. Am I right?”

  She nodded, shuddering when she thought back. His gaze held hers, full of sympathy and understanding.

  “You love it though, don’t you?”

  “I did.”

  He squeezed her hands.

  “Sweetheart, you need to get back in the saddle and soon, or this may well become a fear you won’t be able to overcome. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

  “Philip, I know you’re right, I’m just so afraid. I keep going over and over it in my head …”

  The tears sprang to her eyes and he pulled her into his lap as he had done that day in the cave, stroking her hair while she buried her head in his neck. How did he manage to make her feel so safe? Her body was still in a state of high arousal and the musky scent of his cologne in her nostrils was definitely not helping. He lifted her chin, his gaze dropping from her eyes to her mouth, and for a second she held her breath wondering if he was going to kiss her. Then he recollected himself and smiled down at her.

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then, shall I?”

  Chapter 4

  Philip was already waiting for her when she arrived at the stables the following morning, his stallion eagerly pawing the ground in anticipation while a groom saddled her mare.

  “Talk to her, Sarah. See how calm she is today? If you ride close to me I’ll keep a tight hold on your rein so there’s no danger of her bolting again.”

  He smiled at her reassuringly and squeezed her free hand while she stroked the mare’s forehead with the other. She was shaky, but determined to take his advice and get back in the saddle again. He was right, if she didn’t do it soon she’d lose her nerve completely and she enjoyed her daily rides too much to let that happen.

  He helped her up, making sure she was settled before climbing back onto his own mount and gripping her reins alongside his. They set off, so close their legs were almost touching, and her confidence increased the further they progressed. Somehow she always felt so secure in his presence, trusting that nothing untoward could happen while he was watching out for her.

  They made small talk on route to the beach and she realised he was keeping up a stream of light-hearted conversation in an attempt to distract her from her anxieties, but in no time at all she found herself beginning to relax and just take pleasure in the outing. It was a glorious summer’s day: the distant ocean sparkled like a strand of sapphires, the shimmering white sands stretched out ahead of them, and his eyes were so dazzlingly blue they almost stole her breath away.

  Pausing for a while, they let the horses wander and graze on the sparse grass at the edge of the beach while they sat on a flat rock together. He offered her his hip flask and she threw him a flirtatious glance, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “So it appears I was right, you are determined to get me drunk, Sir. Call yourself a gentleman?”

  He pretended to sulk, pouting attractively, and she found herself gazing at his lips and wondering what it would be like to feel them pressed against hers. The thought was a very pleasant one, she had to admit.

  “And this is all the thanks I get for assuming a bit of Dutch courage would be called for today?”

  He grinned at her before sobering again, his intense gaze holding her captive.

  “Are you glad you came, Sarah?”

  She nodded without any trace of hesitation.

  “Very. And you were right, if I hadn’t done it today I might never have plucked up the courage again. As it happens it was easier than I expected, but that’s probably because I always feel so safe when I’m with you.”

  He pursed his lips, adopting a suitably crestfallen expression.

  “Hmmm. I suspect most men would not choose to be described as ‘safe’ while in the company of a pretty woman. Exciting, maybe. Dashing, quite possibly. Handsome, most definitely …”

  She giggled.

  “And you’re all of those things also. But safe was what was called for today. Thank you, Philip. I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Their gaze locked and held for a moment, and then his eyes dropped to her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat as he slowly dipped his head and touched his lips to hers, tentatively at first but with increasing confidence when she didn’t put up any resistance. She sighed with pleasure, her fingers threading through his silky hair, neither of them pulling away until they were both dizzy with the lack of oxygen. He held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head, and she buried her face in his neck, intoxicated by his unique masculine scent. For a brief moment she was put in mind of a different man, a moonlit garden and a dangerous seduction, and then she dismissed the thought firmly. She was happy right here, right now, wrapped in Philip’s warm embrace. She felt the vibrations of his deep baritone voice resonating through his chest.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time. And may I say it entirely exceeded my expectations.”

  She flashed him a seductive smile.

  “I think I’d quite like to do it again some time soon.”

  He leant down to whisper in her ear, the sensation of his warm breath fanning her skin sending a shiver of desire skittering down her spine.

  “Oh, I think that can be arranged …”

  And then his mouth captured hers again, and she was lost.

  …………

  When they returned to the house her father was waiting to greet them, shaking Philip gratefully by the hand and inviting him to stay for some lunch. He accepted, but she detected a certain hesitation in his manner and thought she could probably guess the reason. She spoke in a low voice so her father didn’t overhear.

  “It’s alright. Sir Horace is away on business for a few days.”

  He looked surprised that she’d read his thoughts so accurately but he nodded in gratit
ude, surreptitiously squeezing her hand. She’d observed previously that his manner to their host was somewhat cool and made a note to ask him about it sometime. It appeared The Saint was not the only one Sir Horace had offended.

  The meal passed very pleasantly and then she and her father both escorted him to the door, watching as he leapt easily into the saddle and rode away with a wave and a smile. He’d arranged to take her riding again the next day, and her father stroked his chin and cast her a knowing look.

  “Very charming young man indeed, and he seems to have developed quite a regard for a certain young lady. You could do an awful lot worse, m’dear.”

  He smiled affectionately, seeing the colour rise in her cheeks. He didn’t think it would be long before Philip made her an offer and he’d be very happy to see her safely settled. His face clouded for a second when he thought about Sir Horace: he couldn’t fail to notice the way he’d been looking at her recently, the old lecher. As if he’d ever force his only daughter into a loveless marriage just because the man in question was as rich as Creosus. The sooner young Mr Hunt snapped her up the better, in his opinion.

  …………

  Philip took her riding every morning that week and she found herself enjoying the time spent in his company more with each passing day. And then there was the physical contact too: they spent much of the time wrapped blissfully in each other’s arms exchanging increasingly heated kisses. So far he’d behaved like the perfect gentlemen although she was sure it cost him to do so, and she knew she could trust him completely even if she wasn’t entirely sure she could say the same for herself. The more time they spent together the more her attraction to him grew, and she yearned for the soft caress of his lips and the sensual touch of his fingers whenever they were apart.