Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

J ames woke with the weight of Sarah sprawled atop him, her soft breath tickling his neck. For a moment, he remained still, savoring the feel of her against him. Her warmth seeped into his skin, and he instantly realized how badly he wanted her. The memory of their kiss kept him awake long after she had fallen into slumber, and it annoyed him, for he was a man of experience and not so easily awed. Yet, here he was, helplessly captivated by her.

He reminded himself he should not be lying here with her, holding her like this. James gently shifted, trying not to wake her, but she stirred anyway, her eyes fluttering open. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning."

Sarah stretched, her body pressing more firmly against his for a brief, compelling moment before she rolled off him and sat up.

"This is so wonderfully indulgent," she said with a small smile. "I want to sleep the day away. It is too cozy."

"We should get up," he said, glancing out the window. "It looks like a good day for hunting."

"Hunting?"

"We need to eat; unfortunately, the larder is not stocked with anything substantial."

"May I accompany you?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

They dressed quickly, with Sarah donning her wrinkled clothes that were now dried. They went to the kitchen and ate the remaining fruits—a couple of apples and some strawberries. James gathered his hunting gear and set off into the manor's woods. They walked in comfortable silence, James leading the way with Sarah close behind. The manor's expansive estate offered a perfect hunting ground, with rolling hills and dense woods teeming with wildlife. As they walked deeper into the woodland, James explained the basics of hunting, his voice calm and instructive.

"You need to be quiet and patient," he said, scanning the landscape. "The key is to move slowly and keep your senses sharp."

"You plan to hunt with a bow and arrow?"

"Yes."

The forest was alive with the sounds of nature, the morning sun filtering through the canopy of leaves. "Have you ever hunted before?"

"A few times, I accompanied Frederick," she admitted. "But never like this and with a bow and arrow."

"Do you know how to use a bow?"

"No."

"I can teach you if you wish to learn," he said.

Her eyes sparkled. "I would like to learn."

They continued walking until James spotted a quail nestled in the underbrush. He motioned for Sarah to get down, and they crawled on their bellies, inching closer to their prey.

"Crawling on my belly I most certainly have never done," she whispered, sounding thrilled. "I fervently hope what my elbow just sank in is mud."

James smiled, enjoying her company more than he had anticipated. He pushed himself into a stoop, withdrew an arrow and nocked it before letting it fly. The shot was perfect, and the quail fell to the ground.

"Impressive," Sarah said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "James?"

"Hmm?"

"Who is going to cook it?"

He chuckled at her alarmed tone. "I will."

James collected the bird, and they walked back toward the manor, where he worked gutting the game and plucking the feathers.

Sarah watched intently, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Can I help?"

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. Worry not, I shall not swoon, and if I do, I shall ensure it is toward your arms and not the ground."

James laughed and handed her the knife. "Be careful," he warned.

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "I believe I shall content myself with helping you pluck the feathers."

She nodded, her expression serious as she began to help. James found himself admiring her determination and bravery. Most women of her standing would have been horrified by the task, but Sarah approached it with a calm focus that impressed him. They worked side by side, and before long, the quail was seasoned and ready to be roasted. They moved to the kitchen, and James started the fire on the earthen stove.

As the quail roasted over the fire, they sat together at the kitchen table, their hands cleaned.

"This is certainly not how I imagined spending the day," Sarah said with a laugh. "It is so different from what I would be doing in town. It is quite refreshing, and that is an almost petrifying thought."

"Because it means that you find life boring and uninspiring," James said, watching her expression.

She stilled, and a look of vulnerability settled on her lovely face. "Yes."

"Life does not need to be extravagant to be enjoyable. Perhaps it is not so petrifying that you enjoyed the simplicity of cleaning a quail and roasting it."

"You speak from experience."

"Yes. A few months ago, I sat on the hillside, flying a kite surrounded by sheep. It was a most pleasant day. I enjoy that simplicity in living. I also find enjoyment in racing a horse, gambling, and traveling to Europe. It does not have to be dazzling at each moment to be good."

She closed her eyes as if trying to imagine such a scene. "I would like to fly a kite one day."

"I will fly it with you."

Her lashes fluttered up, and the longing in her eyes tightened his chest.

"How long has it been since you took a lover to your bed, James Fairbanks?"

Sarah's smile informed him she wanted to rattle his composure. He almost ignored her provocative question but said, "Not since I danced with you at Lady Sanderson's ball."

"Why?"

Bloody hell . What was he doing? "Sarah—"

"Tell me the reason, James."

She was unlike any woman he had ever known, and the awareness of it was both thrilling and terrifying. "Because the woman I wanted I could not have. So I denied myself," he said flatly, knowing he had revealed too much but did not want to lie to her.

This damn connection between them was complex, and should he marry Mirabelle, James would have to remove all traces of Sarah in his life. It would be a dishonor to any other woman to keep her as a friend. It was because of Sarah that he had not taken a lover to his bed in almost a year and a half. Even before she showed up at Lady Sanderson's masquerade ball last year, he knew he would not have taken a lady to his bachelor lodgings in St. James Square. Everything about her had sunk too deep.

"You are annoyed," she drawled. "Your brows are furrowing, and your eyes are getting darker."

He cast her a sidelong glance, lifting his brow at the gleam in her eyes. "You are amused."

"Of course I am. There was a time when it angered me that I could be so defenseless against you. I wanted you. I dreamed about you. It feels good to know you were mutually tormented."

James stared at her, feeling an almost helpless sense of tumbling deeper. The sight of her, so effortlessly lovely and so achingly close, stirred a longing in him that he struggled to control.

"Ah," she purred, leaning closer to place a finger under his chin. "I can feel that you want to kiss me."

He thrust his fingers through her hair and tugged her close.

"Denied," she said softly, her eyes sparkling with wickedness.

"Denied?" he repeated gruffly.

"Yes. Lizzy told me that there will be moments when you seem to badly want to kiss or hold me, and I should deny you because you are used to ladies effortlessly falling at your feet."

James stared at her upturned face in disbelief. "Has my entire family conspired against me with you to …" His throat closed over the words, for he did not want to provoke that hot image of being on his knees before her, parting her legs to lick her.

The damn minx seemed to read his desperate thoughts because she sweetly said, "Conspire to help me bring you to your knees?"

For a moment, James let himself imagine how it would feel to hold her beneath him and push deep into her. Lust flamed through him, hot and urgent.

"I am going to throttle them," he said tightly, releasing her from his grasp and stepping away.

Sarah smiled but made no other response. The quail was finally done. James pulled it from the fire and let it cool for a few minutes before digging in. They ate with their fingers, the juices running down their hands and arms. It was messy and unrefined, but neither of them cared.

Sarah licked her fingers clean, a satisfied smile on her face. "That was wonderful. Thank you for today."

James looked at her, surprised by the wistfulness in her voice. "For what?"

"For everything," she said, her eyes meeting his. "For taking care of me, for letting me help with the hunt, for enjoying my company, for not treating me as if I am fragile … being you. Things will be very different once we leave here. Now, I can freely be myself."

James did not know how to respond. He felt a surge of protectiveness and affection for her but quickly pushed it down. Instead, he reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. They sat like that for a while, their hands intertwined.

"Do you not feel free with your family?"

Startled eyes lifted to James's, and Sarah hesitated, then said, "I suppose I've always felt like an outsider, even among my own family. My parents have very strict ideas about what a lady should be and how she should behave. I have tried to live up to those expectations, but it always feels like I am pretending to be someone I am not. It is quite interesting that all my wonderful moments are in the presence of a Fairbanks. Ester is a wonderful friend. I snuck into the Glendevon gambling den with her and won two hundred pounds. I was almost infected with that dreaded gambling fever because I sneaked into Moonlight Mystique as well to watch Phoebe play and to gamble again."

James smiled, glad she had rebelled against strictures he could not imagine anyone enduring. His sisters had struggled with the sudden restrictions placed on their lives since their eldest brother became the Earl of Celdon. He could not fathom Sarah living her entire life under such tight constraints. A fierce desire to give Sarah whatever she needed to be happy surged through him, shocking him with visceral intensity. "Did you win?"

"No. I lost it all." She laughed. "That gambling fever vanished immediately. I even cried. Gabriel was wonderful enough to return my losses to me, and I donated it to an orphanage the following day."

They spent the rest of the evening in the kitchen, talking and laughing as the fire burned down to embers. James found a deck of cards, and they played long into the night. Though there was that glow of hot hunger in her gaze, Sarah seemed to have stopped her seductions. Their conversation flowed easily, filled with stories, jokes, and shared laughter.

As the night wore on and Sarah's eyes grew heavy, James knew it was time to retire.

She wilted against him in a rather dramatic fashion. "I am too sleepy to walk."

He lightly chuckled and gently chucked her beneath her chin as he did with his sisters. She scowled at him playfully, making him laugh softly. James lifted her into his arms, and she slipped her hands around his nape.

"Whichever of my siblings taught you about seduction has me worried."

She laughed, and the delighted sound settled deep into his heart, warming James. They headed up to the bedchamber. Once in the room, they settled into the large, four-poster bed together, their bodies naturally gravitating toward each other.

"No fire?" she murmured sleepily.

"We are low on wood," he said, "I will keep you warm."

She did not reply, but he felt her smile against his chest. James wrapped his arms around Sarah, pulling her close. Holding her in his arms and sleeping felt natural, necessary even. The realization shocked him. Sarah and her bumbling seduction efforts that were oddly charming might be dangerous to James's carefully maintained order and the way he envisioned his future. He hoped the rains would stop soon so he could leave her presence and reassert his good senses.

In the quiet darkness, with the soft sounds of their breathing mingling, James felt a profound sense of peace and contentment. The warmth of her body against his, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, and the gentle rise and fall of her breath lulled him into a deep sleep. As he lay there, holding her close, he couldn't deny the intense emotions she stirred within him. Sarah was indeed dangerous, but at that moment, he did not mind at all.