air was warm and redolent with the scent of mown grass and blooming roses as she made her way down the gravel path. The world was so quiet and still, nothing but a faint breeze and the hoot of an owl to disrupt the hush. The moon was so bright that she did not require any illumination to guide her.
She stopped on the bank of the lake, then removed her robe and night rail, folding them into a neat pile. Night air kissed her bare skin, making her nipples tighten. If anything, the heaviness between her legs only increased. On a sigh, she waded into the water. When she was waist-deep, she dove forward on a long plunge.
If her current state was any indication, she would need to swim the dratted lake all night to douse the fire in her blood. But she was determined. One way or another, she would drive Jack from her mind.
What the devil was she doing, wandering about alone in the midst of the night?
Jack raced through the darkness to the bank of the lake, heart pounding. He had not believed his eyes when he had seen the figure wandering along the path in the moonlight. Recognition had been instant. He would know her form anywhere—the sweet nip of her waist, the curve of her bottom, the elegant way she moved. The burnished curls cascading down her back were all too familiar.
He had been pacing in his chamber, unable to sleep, when he had stopped before the window. Thoughts of Nell had sent him from his bed, where he had already taken himself in hand to no avail. He had been miserable, lying alone, knowing how very near she was—only a door separating them—and yet she was beyond his reach.
They had returned to Needham Hall in the wake of the storm and their all-consuming passion in frigid silence. For the remainder of the day, she had once more cloistered herself within her apartments, refusing to emerge. He had swallowed his pride enough to knock, and she had wished him once more to hell.
The night was hot enough, and his blood was simmering enough, for him to suppose he was already there.
He jogged around a bend in the path, still no sight of his errant wife up ahead, when he heard a splash. Jack increased his pace, his lungs burning. And when he reached the bank of the lake, all he saw was a pile of cream-colored garments neatly folded in the grass and no Nell.
“Nellie!” he called, his voice echoing over the surface of the lake.
Silence met him.
He tore at his dressing robe, flinging it to the grass.
And then he waded into the lake. “Nell, damn you, answer me!”
By God, did the woman’s recklessness know no bounds? He did not even know if she could swim. And yet not only had she been on a walk after midnight, all alone, she had gone into the lake. Alone.
When he found her, he was going to throttle her. And then he was going to kiss her senseless. Or mayhap kiss her senseless first and throttle her second.
The surface of the lake broke before him, Nell’s head popping up with a splash.
“Nell, thank God,” he said, swimming toward her.
“Jack?” She sounded vastly displeased.
Whilst he was relieved. He reached her in a few strokes. The water was deep in this part of the lake, though not over his head. He caught her around the waist, hauling her against him.
“Foolish woman.” In the moonlight, she was like a pagan goddess come to life. The urge to kiss her senseless returned. “What are you doing out here in the lake in the middle of the night?”
She wriggled, trying to escape him, but the motion only made her soft breasts rub against his chest. The water of the lake was cool, but not cool enough to stave off a sudden bolt of lust. His cock rose insistently.
“I am swimming, you sapskull.” She flattened her palms on his shoulders and shoved. “What are you doing out here? Following me?”
“Looking after you,” he said grimly. “Someone must, since you appear to have no regard for yourself whatsoever.”
Was her life nothing more than a series of scrapes, one after the next? Good God, he shuddered to think what had befallen her in his absence. Who had taken care of her for the last three years? Sidmouth?
The thought dampened his ardor, but not enough to deflate his raging cockstand.
“I do not need you to look after