Her eyes narrowed on the creased evening clothes he still wore. “You do not seem to have been to bed.”
“No,” he admitted. “Which is why I would welcome the chance to go riding with you so as to clear the cobwebs from my head.”
“I am very grateful to you for having saved me from the fire—although I am sure if you had not, I would no doubt have found a way of saving myself,” she dismissed. “But I have lived here most of my life, know all the local people, as they know me. I am in need of neither a chaperone nor a protector to go riding about my father’s estate.”
Zachary knew from Rissa’s tone that she was still angry with him. Not, as she had assured him, because of the past, but because of how he was allowing that past to affect his present and future. Their present and possible future.
But whether she was angry with him or not, Zachary could not allow Rissa to leave the house unaccompanied when Royston was on the loose seeking vengeance. “Then perhaps you might do me the courtesy of offering to entertain a guest in your father’s home by inviting him to go riding with you?” He returned her own reproof from the previous evening regarding manners.
Rissa’s eyes narrowed. “If you are hoping to guilt me into doing so, you are not succeeding. I have shown you nothing but politeness from the moment we met. Have several times behaved with you in a manner not fitting or acceptable for a single young lady.” A blush colored her cheeks. “Unless or until you have anything to add to our conversation of last night, I would prefer not to spend any more time alone with you.”
His Angel was, Zachary acknowledged with admiration, absolutely magnificent in her anger. So much so, he could imagine her in fifty years’ time, still as beautiful and still in possession of that magnificence, as she put some whippersnapper in his place. And, Lord, how he would like to be there to witness it when she did so.
The knowledge that he would not, could not, caused an ache in his chest.
“I believe we have already agreed that we cannot always have what we want,” he dismissed. “In this particular case, you will either wait for me to go upstairs and change before I am able to rejoin you and we will go riding together, or I shall be forced to prevent you from going out at all.”
Her eyes widened, her chin rising in challenge. “I should like to see you try.”
Zachary gave a hard smile. “Be very careful what you wish for, Angel.”
Her eyes flashed. “You should not call me by that name. Nor can you tell me what to do.”
“No?” he taunted.
Rissa forgot everything Sophia had ever taught her about challenging a man or his ego. Forgot all she had learned about deportment and manners in Society too, as she marched boldly up to Zachary until she stood close enough to be able to lift her chin and thrust her face toward his in a most unladylike manner. “As you have absolutely no authority over me or my actions, exactly how do you intend to go about doing that?”
A magnificent little baggage, Zachary inwardly amended. “Naughty little girls end up having their bottom spanked.”
Her eyes widened to round pools of fury. “You would not dare!”
“It has been some years since I recall anyone being brave enough to dare me in regard to doing anything,” he remarked calmly. “Are you sure you wish to do so now?”
Rissa was not sure of anything, except this man infuriated her into behaving in a childish manner she had believed, under Sophia’s tutelage, she no longer possessed.
Nor did she have an explanation for the way in which her body had heated at the thought of being put over Zachary’s knees and having her bottom spanked.
Her eyes narrowed. “I will go to the stables and saddle Starlight, as it is far too early to expect any of the grooms to do it for me. If you have changed and joined me by the time I am ready to leave, then I shall wait for you to do the same and we shall go riding together.”
“And if I am not?”
“I shall go riding alone. As I have done many times in the past,” she added firmly as she sensed Zachary was about to add another objection to her plans. “I suggest you remember that you are a guest here, and that only my father has authority in this house.”
He regarded her silently for several long seconds. “I believe if your father were here to be consulted that he would be in complete agreement with me.”
As her father had many times warned her, now that she was a grown woman, against “riding harem-scarum about the countryside unaccompanied,” Rissa knew Harrogate was probably correct in his conclusion.
Which did not help her temper in the slightest. “I have told you of my intentions. It is now up to you whether or not you can change your clothing quickly enough to join me.”
“You are infuriatingly stubborn!”
Rissa eyed him mockingly. “I am my father’s daughter.”
Yes, she was, Zachary acknowledged as he hurried up the stairs to his bedchamber. But where that stubbornness and determination of nature was often necessary in a man, it resulted in recklessness when applied to a woman.
When applied to this young woman.
And whether Zachary intended to acknowledge it or not, Rissa was his woman.
Chapter 7
“Arrogant bloody man,” Rissa muttered under her breath while she saddled Starlight. As she had surmised, none of the grooms were up and about yet to offer assistance. “A couple of kisses and he believes he owns me. That he has the right to order me about like—like some lackey!” Her voice rose with her temper as she continued chuntering to herself. “Well, we shall see about that, shall we not, Starlight?” She tightened the girth about the horse only to look up and see her mare was staring across the cobbled width between the stalls to where the earl’s horse was stabled. “Stay well away from him, Starlight,” she warned. “I have no doubt he is as overbearing as his owner.”
“The two of them would produce a magnificent foal together,” that overbearing and interfering man remarked as he strolled down the stable to where his stallion was now stamping his hooves and throwing back his head in anticipation of a morning gallop.
Rissa had no doubt Zachary was correct. Starlight had been born from a union between her father’s Lipizzaner stallion and an Arabian mare. The earl’s black stallion, Zeus, she had heard Zachary call him yesterday, looked to be a thoroughbred.
She ignored both the stallion and its owner as she took Starlight’s reins with the intention of leading her out into the cobbled yard. Instead, the mare instantly chose to do a little dance in the direction of the stall opposite. “Men are not to be trusted,” Rissa cautioned Starlight. “One moment they are kissing you, and the next they are ordering you about and threatening to spank your bottom when you fail to jump to their bidding!” Her cheeks heated at the memory of how her body had warmed earlier upon hearing Zachary’s threat.
Her father had never so much as raised a finger to her in anger, let alone spanked her. But even so, Rissa knew that a spanking from Zachary Noble would be nothing like a fatherly chastisement. For one thing, she harbored absolutely no familial feelings toward Zachary and knew instinctively that any spanking he gave her would quickly turn from humiliation to intimacy. And there had been quite enough of that between the two of them already.
Zachary chuckled as Rissa struggled to maintain an indignant expression. “You do not seem totally averse to that idea.”
Her eyes flashed a deep gray. “I do not advise you ever put that theory to the test.”
Zachary gave another chuckle as he led Zeus from his stall to quickly brush the horse before putting on the bridle and saddle. “Then, Angel, I advise you do not continue challenging me.” He swung himself easily onto the stallion’s back.
His eyes widened as he watched Rissa do the same, not on the sidesaddle most, if not all, women favored. Instead, she had a smaller version of his own saddle, with her legs parted and planted either side of her mare’s girth, her booted feet in the stirrups.
She raised a slender eyebrow at his obviou
s surprise. “My father had this saddle made as a present for my eighteenth birthday last month. Do not look so scandalized,” she mocked Zachary’s expression. “I am perfectly decent beneath the skirt of my riding habit.” She flicked back the material to reveal she wore soft black suede leggings beneath. “Sophia has a pair just like them.”
Zachary frowned. “Sophia is a married lady and, if her husband approves, can do as she wishes.”
“If my father sees no problem with either the saddle or my attire, then neither should you,” she dismissed.
Instead of answering her challenge, Zachary gave a pointed glance about the deserted stable yard. “Where is the groom to accompany us?”
“I decided, as you insisted on accompanying me, that there was no need to disturb the sleep of one of the grooms.”
He scowled. “That is not in the least proper—”
“Race you to the riverside!” Rissa gave a delighted laugh, no sooner leaving the stable yard than she urged her mare into a gallop across the adjoining countryside.
Leaving Zachary with no choice, as he had no idea where the river was, but to do the same if he was to remain at her side. He caught up with her and the mare within a few minutes, Zeus’s stride much longer than that of the smaller horse.
Zachary reached out to grasp hold of Rissa’s reins, holding them in his gloved hands alongside his own before pulling both horses to a standstill. “You little hellion!” He glared his displeasure.
Rissa’s cheeks were flushed from the gallop, her eyes sparkling with that same enjoyment as she gave another happy laugh. “Is it not wonderful to be out in the early morning air with the dew still on the ground?”
It was, yes, but with Royston on the loose and the other man’s actions now threatening vengeance on all who had wronged him, Zachary did not intend to let his Angel out of his sight. Rissa had no knowledge of the guards her father had employed, but Zachary was aware of two of those men following at a safe distance behind them. Even so, having Rissa ride off in that impetuous way was enough to give Zachary heart palpitations.
“That was a particularly reckless thing to do,” he accused, maintaining hold of the mare’s reins as well as his own, not an easy task as the two horses whinnied and nuzzled each other before sidestepping apart.
Rissa gave him an impatient glance. “It was not in the least reckless when I am as familiar with the countryside here as I am the inside of Weston Park.”
But in the past, there had not been a madman somewhere in the vicinity seeking vengeance. “How much farther is it to the river?” Zachary bit out.
She shrugged narrow shoulders. “Half a mile or so.”
He gave an abrupt nod. “Then you will ride that half a mile or so at my side.”
She pouted. “That hardly makes it a race.”
Zachary drew in a deep breath to control his instinct to lean forward and catch Rissa’s pouting bottom lip between his teeth before claiming her mouth fully with his own. “I have no desire to race you anywhere,” he rasped instead. “I am aged one and thirty, not one and twenty!”
Rissa felt suitably chastised for what Zachary obviously considered her immature behavior. It was the last thing she wished to appear to this particular man. “Very well.” Her tone was waspish. “I do not suppose at your age, you can help having developed the caution of an old man,” she dismissed.
Lids narrowed about green-and-gold eyes. “You consider me old?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps not in years, but certainly in your manner.”
The earl’s jaw tightened. “Then I will have to see what I can do to change that opinion.”
Rissa eyed Zachary warily, aware her teasing had gone too far and he was now deeply annoyed. Enough, it seemed, for him to be considering retribution of some kind.
She felt a naughty frisson of excitement run the length of her spine at the thought of what that retribution might be.
In the meantime, she erred on the side of caution and rode to the river at Zachary’s side, their two horses having settled together enough to only take the occasional nip at each other.
Much as she and Zachary did verbally, Rissa recognized. Not that she was experienced enough in such matters to know for certain what that meant. But she could take a guess at it being another part of the sexual tension that had existed between herself and Zachary from the moment his mesmerizing gaze looked up at her trapped on the balcony at Catchpole Manor.
Nor could her good humor be dampened for long when it was such a beautiful day for a ride, the leaves on the trees and bushes having turned to lovely autumnal shades. Many of those leaves had already fallen and now littered the ground in russets, golds, and the occasional pale green. The river, once they reached it, was more like a stream still, and not yet filled with the autumn and winter downpour which would swell its banks to bursting.
Rissa swung her leg over the cantle of the saddle before sliding down to the ground and allowing the skirts of her riding habit to fall about her booted ankles, once again appearing the ladylike Lady Clarissa Spencer.
“Is this not beautiful?” she prompted Zachary once they had tied the two horses safely away from each other before she strolled forward to stand beside one of the willow trees edging the gently flowing river.
“Beautiful,” he echoed.
Rissa turned to look at Zachary when he added nothing further, a blush warming her cheeks as she saw he was looking at her rather than their surroundings. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I was referring to the scenery.”
He gave a wolfish grin as he slowly removed his leather gloves and placed them on one of several tree stumps, along with his hat. “So was I.”
She frowned her annoyance. “You cannot now decide to flirt with me after physically threatening me and verbally chastising me.”
Zachary strolled over to join her. “I am not flirting, Angel.”
Rissa swallowed before answering him. “Nor should you be thinking of seducing me—”
“I am beyond merely thinking about it,” he assured huskily as his arms moved about her waist and he pulled her closer. “You are a tease as well as a hellion,” he murmured, his breath warm against her throat. “Can the skirt of your riding habit be removed separately to the jacket?”
Rissa could not prevent her body from trembling in reaction to his close proximity. “It can, yes.”
“Hmm.” Zachary eyed her clothing as he released her to take a step back.
Rissa gave an undignified squeak as he lifted his hands and began to unfasten the buttons down the front of her fitted jacket. Rissa’s attempt to stop him proved futile. “You asked about my skirt, not my jacket!”
“It is a military ploy,” he murmured. “Allow the enemy to believe you intend to attack from one direction and then confuse them by attacking from another direction completely.” He folded the two sides of her jacket back to reveal the fullness of her breasts covered only by the thin material of her chemise.
Rissa could barely breathe, certainly had no willpower to stop him. “I am not your enemy.”
“No, you are not,” he conceded gruffly. “But you have a habit of challenging me that needs to be dealt with once and for all,” he added as he grasped the sides of her jacket to pull it off her shoulders and down her arms.
Rissa frowned as the progress of the sleeves came to a halt at her elbows. “What on earth?” She glared at Zachary when she realized the placement of those sleeves did not allow her to lift or move her arms forward. “What are you doing?”
He gave a confident grin at her obvious dilemma. “I have warned you. Several times.” He lifted her by the waist before walking over to another of the tree stumps to sit down, his intention becoming obvious as he placed Rissa across his muscular thighs and threw up the back of her skirts.
Her struggle to put her booted feet on the ground and right herself was made impossible with her arms trapped this way. “You would not dare!” She turned to glare over her shoulder at a smiling Za
chary as he ran the warmth of his palm over the curve of her suede-covered bottom.
He chuckled. “Of course I would,” he dismissed, his free hand placed firmly against her back holding her in place. “And when I am done spanking you, I shall expect you to thank me prettily and give me a promise not to challenge me again.”
Rissa gave another futile kick of her legs. “You may expect all you wish but I assure you it will not happen.” She continued to struggle against the frustration of having her arms trapped. That, along with Zachary’s restraining palm placed firmly against her spine, the only things preventing her from punching him on his arrogant nose.
“We shall see,” Zachary murmured with a throaty chuckle.
“You, sir, are a barbarian and a—” She broke off the string of insults she had intended as Zachary’s other large hand landed painfully on the cheeks of her bottom.
It hurt, even through the suede trousers. More than Rissa would ever have believed possible. She began to fight again in earnest, in an attempt to avoid the next slap to her bottom.
Without effect, as Zachary landed half a dozen more smacks in quick succession, each one resonating through her whole body more painfully than the last. As for the globes of her bottom… They throbbed and stung so deeply, she knew the skin there would be as red as the cheeks on her face, if for a different reason.
Zachary paused with one of his hands resting on those throbbing globes. “Are you ready to apologize yet?”
“You are an arrogant bully and—”
“Obviously not.” Zachary landed another, harder, smack to the left cheek of her bottom and them another to the right. “I will leave it to you to tell me when you have had enough,” he added as if they were conversing politely about the weather rather than discussing the cessation of those smacks to her bottom.
Rissa’s stubbornness of nature was such that she tried to hold out against that painful bombardment, but eventually, it became too much for her. “I apologize!” The words were a choked sob to match the tears now cascading down her cheeks.
Zachary paused. “For what?”
Forbidden (Regency Lovers 4) Page 6
