that she was now free to become anyone, or anything, she wished to become.
They reached the inn. Saying good-bye was more difficult than Elise had imagined. She suddenly felt at a loss for words. "Thank you for all you've done on my behalf," she blurted. "I wish you a happy life."
He reached out and brushed the stray curl that forever crept across her forehead. "And I hope you find what you're looking for."
For a dreadful moment, tears burned her eyes, and she feared she would embarrass herself. "Good-bye then." Elise turned away, only to find herself wheeled about and in his arms the next instant.
His lips found hers. She opened her mouth beneath his. Their tongues touched, danced together, spreading delicious heat through her chilled bones. She explored his mouth, the taste and depth of him, uncaring that her actions were bold. She would never see him again.
He made a low sound in his throat; then she felt the rough wood of the inn cutting into her back. She hardly noticed the discomfort, for the tight press of their bodies wiped logical thought from her mind. She burned for him, ached to feel more than his mouth fused with hers. What would it be like to lie with him? Skin against skin?
Her thoughts frightened her, along with the feelings he stirred. Primitive desires that she had never experienced. Her life had been a sheltered one. If her uncle hadn't been generous with his affections, he'd been overly protective of her virtue. He never allowed her in a man's company without a proper chaperone. Elise hadn't been so much as kissed before, and here she was, rubbing up against a man she hardly knew, like one of his great cats, begging to be stroked.
His hand closed over her breast; then his fingers brushed her sensitive nipple through the fabric. She moaned against his lips, hungry for more. As if he knew her needs, he stroked the other breast in kind, the friction of his fingers against her nipples sweet torture. His hand strayed to the top fastenings of her gown. He suddenly broke from her.
"Go inside," he commanded. "Go inside before I forget myself and drag you back to my wagon, toss you upon my cot, and make love to you as if there is no tomorrow."
If it was a threat, she did not respond correctly. Instead of her being frightened, all manner of indecent images suddenly took shape within her mind: images of tangled limbs and glorious golden naked skin. The night air clashed with her heat-flushed body and made her shiver.
"You should be afraid," he misinterpreted her response. "Now go inside while I still have the conscience to allow you to escape with your innocence."
He turned and walked away from her, which didn't leave Elise with many options. Now that her head had cleared, she understood how foolish it would be to run after him. Not to mention degrading. She imagined he was well used to women dogging his heels. The memory of the women sighing over him earlier brought reason when her body wanted to make a fool of her.
Shaken, Elise slipped inside of the inn. Thankfully, there were few patrons eating in the common room or partaking of spirits. Two men stood across the room, one with his back to her and the other studying a ledger. She assumed the man with the ledger was the proprietor. Something about the other man struck her as familiar, even though he wore a long cloak and high-crowned beaver that hid him from her. As if the proprietor felt her regard, he glanced up. He immediately frowned.
"You're not welcome in here!" he shouted across the room. "Take your thieving ways back to your camp!"
She'd forgotten that her disguise would jeopardize her chances of securing a room for the night. Elise supposed coin might sway the proprietor. The man who stood with his back to her started to turn. She caught a view of his profile. Her heart jumped up her throat. The man was her uncle.
Wheeling around, Elise scrambled back through the inn door. Had he seen her? She hoped that by the time his head had turned, all he'd seen was her backside rushing through the door. Her heart pounded wildly. Fear gripped her insides and twisted. Elise ran in the direction of the caravan wagons. The torches were still lit at Sarah's wagon, which greatly aided her sense of direction.