The Duke is Wicked (League of Lords #3) - Tracy Sumner Page 0,51

skills pushed him over the brink.

Left him wanting to touch her—more than he’d wanted to touch anyone in years. Hell, ever.

His mind crawled into a masculine cellar full of images like the jiggle of Delaney’s breasts as she cleared a shallow ditch in one elegant leap; the thick length of inky-black hair that had come loose from one of her frivolous knots and streamed behind her like the tail of a flag; the pert bottom popping the saddle in time with her mount’s hoofbeats.

That last one, especially, was having a debilitating effect on his senses.

He was only human. A human who greatly appreciated a taut derriere.

In close pursuit but wholly distracted, Sebastian was unprepared for the shot that rang out from the north parklands, a dull discharge that echoed through the air. He reached blindly into his satchel and yanked out his pistol while bringing his mount around with a hard press of his thighs, a fierce effort to keep his body in the saddle atop a startled horse.

He turned in prancing steps, and his heart fell to his knees, his fingertips tingling until he knew, he knew, a blaze was going to start raging around them.

Delaney’s mount was riderless, reins dangling as the mare tore across the meadow. Squinting, Sebastian spotted a splash of yellow fabric amidst the high, green grass. Leaping from the saddle, he crossed to where she lay in five panicked strides, telling himself to control his gift as his fingertips blazed.

She was on her back, motionless when he reached her. Cheeks covered in grass and dirt, a bruise coloring her jaw. “Delaney,” he said and dropped to his knee beside her, jamming his pistol in his waistband. His hand quivered as he gently touched her shoulder, afraid to move her, should she have broken a bone.

“Tremont,” she whispered, her lids fluttering.

He rocked back, so relieved he had to drop his head to clear his dappled vision. Damn this reckless, rebellious chit. Drawing a staggered inhalation, he began to trail his hands along her arms, checking for injuries as he had with his soldiers in the field. “Tell me if anything hurts. Anything at all.”

His gaze inched toward her face, finding eyes the color of rain clouds trained on him when he reached them, a slight smile tilting her beautiful lips. Shocking him, she lifted her hand and threaded her fingers through his locks. “I love your hair.” The scrape of her nails across his scalp, a rudimentary caress he felt along his entire body, the caress unleashing a voracious, long-suppressed yearning.

“I know,” he murmured, her sweet admission stealing his breath and a slice of his heart. And confirming she’d taken a blow to the head. “You realize you fell from your mount, don’t you? And that today is Tuesday?”

“It wasn’t the gunshot. Hunters, only hunters. Metis is used to them.” Delaney frowned and groaned softly, struggling to touch the bruise on her jaw. “She stepped in front of us. Her clothing was odd. Old-fashioned. She’s unhappy, searching. Stuck. She didn’t mean to. I startled her because I…” She swallowed, her lids closing. “I don’t think everyone can see her.”

Sebastian frowned, starting to get worried. She wasn’t making sense. Some people never recovered from head injuries. “Let’s get you back to the house.” He brushed a stalk of grass from her cheek, lingering longer than he should. “Call my physician.”

“A castle, Tremont. A wonderful dream…of a castle.”

Smiling tenderly, he helped her sit, one hand framing her narrow waist, the other sliding high on her back, over each sleek curve of her spine. A hawk screeched as it flew overhead, a gust of summer air slinging his hair in his eyes. For a moment, a slow, throbbing moment, they stared. Even in this state, her face bruised, her gaze muddled, a pulse of longing sprinted between them. Then, sighing, Delaney swayed and leaned into him, her heart pounding against his chest, kicking his into a more robust rhythm. “Dizzy,” she whispered against his neck, a sensitive spot just above his shirt collar. Not far from where the bee had gotten him and started all this.

He breathed her teasing scent into his lungs, wishing this woman didn’t destroy him with everything she said, everything she did, everything she was.

“I have you.” Lifting her into his arms, he encountered an even lighter package than he’d imagined. Maybe she wasn’t eating enough with all the changes in her life. He hadn’t been very sympathetic about her situation. No one had.