Before Louisa could answer, Wick pulled his horse to a stop beside them. ‘Louisa, may we go for a walk?’
Mantheria raised her eyebrows. ‘But what of your horse, Wick?’
He swung out of the saddle, looking handsomer than ever. Grabbing the bridle, he tied it to the back of her carriage before opening the door.
Wick held out his hand to her. ‘Shall we?’
‘I should be pleased to walk with you,’ Louisa said, in a breathy voice that was not quite her own.
She placed her hand in his and a sweet warmth flooded through her entire body. He helped her down from the carriage and then offered his arm. Louisa briefly placed her fingers on the crook of his elbow, and again she experienced a flushed heat and a feeling of rightness.
‘You can walk down by the Serpentine,’ Mantheria said. ‘But stay in sight, Wick. I am her chaperone, after all. And Louisa—don’t go too easy on him.’
Louisa had to bite her lower lip to keep in her grin.
Wick gave his sister a menacing glance before leading Louisa away from the carriage towards the glistening blue waters of the lake. They stepped on to the pebbled shore and he turned to look her in the eyes.
‘Louisa, please say that I am not too late.’
‘Too late for what?’ she countered, hoping for but not daring to assume his renewed attentions.
‘Too late to tell you—tell you how I feel. That I—That I love you and I have always loved you. And that I will do anything in my power to make myself worthy of you if you’ll be my wife.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘You are already worthy. You are the best man I have ever known.’
Wick stepped closer and gently brushed a curl back from her face and behind her ear. ‘Does that mean yes?’
Louisa leaned towards him. ‘Yes.’
She licked her lips in anticipation. He was so close to her she was sure that he would kiss her again. Waiting for his mouth to touch hers felt like an exquisite torture. Her gaze fell to his lips. Wick brought his gloved hand to her face, cupping her cheek. His eyes searched hers.
‘I wish that I could kiss you again,’ he whispered. ‘But I suppose I will have to wait until we are married.’
Wick might be willing to wait, but Louisa was not.
Standing on her tiptoes, she gently pressed her lips to his. Lightly. Softly. She felt his other hand on her back, pressing her closer to him, against his muscular body. He moved the hand on her face to her neck, and then his fingers into her hair. Not once breaking the kiss. Gaining courage, Louisa wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips harder to his. She heard him give a slight moan and felt her power over him. Wick wanted her as much as she wanted him.
His mouth moved over hers with more pressure. Louisa gasped, and she felt his mouth close over her lower lip and gently suck on it. She felt heat in her belly and her whole body tingled. Her eyes popped open and she saw his smiling face. Moving her hand from his neck, she traced his lips with her finger. He closed his eyes and made a sound not unlike his sister’s kittens when they were being stroked. Wick clearly enjoyed her caresses as much as she had his kisses.
Leaning forward, she opened her mouth slightly as they kissed again. Wick responded in kind. She felt the heat from his mouth and the wetness of his lips. It was even more deliciously wicked and wonderful than their first kiss. She captured his lower lip between hers and sucked. He tasted sweet, like honey.
Reluctantly, she let his lip go. Wick did not move back from her, but returned his mouth to hers, deepening the kiss. His hands moved up and down her back and shoulders, overwhelming her senses and overturning her good manners. So much so that Louisa allowed one of her hands to drift from his neck down to his cravat, and then to the hardness of his chest.
Louisa felt Wick’s hand cover hers. ‘Perhaps we’d better stop giving thetona show. I think there’s been enough scandal for both our families already.’
The blood rushed to her face and she tried to pull her hand back, but Wick held it firmly.
‘I didn’t mean... I am sorry...’
‘I hope that youdidmean to kiss me and that you arenotsorry,’ he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it. ‘For this is the happiest day of my life.’
‘You don’t think I am too forward?’
He kissed her hand again. ‘I think you are perfect just as you are. My only fear is that you have a sewing needle somewhere upon your person and that I am about to be pricked.’
Louisa giggled. ‘You’re quite safe. The needle is on the inside of my hem.’
‘And you are inside my heart. Always.’