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Before breakfast was served, she took a short ride in Hyde Park. She thought the morning air would clear her head, but not a half hour into her ride, her thoughts turned to the one man she was trying to avoid. ‘Morning, Emma.’ Jason’s horse fell in step beside hers. She angled her head high so she could see past the smart forest green hat she wore. ‘Good morning, Jason.’ ‘Where is Penelope this morning?’ ‘She’s rather busy with wedding plans. Later, after breakfast, we are due at the shops to order the right flowers, the right shoes, the right last minute frocks.’ ‘I suppose men are excluded from these outings.’ ‘Of course.’ Emma smiled. ‘But do join us for breakfast. No need to go change. Your riding attire will be perfectly acceptable, so let us head back now. I’m simply famished.’ The sideboards in the breakfast room were topped with silver dishes. Both Emma and Jason helped themselves. She was just seated when the footman came in with the post. As her father had already left. I felt his hand along the side of my face, gentle but strong, his fingers reaching into my hair, then back to my skin. His other hand found the other side of my face and I turned my body to him, my hands running along his arms, his muscles rippling underneath my touch. It seemed so contradictory to me, this kiss, so slow and unhurried, so full and partial and tender, and his arms, so strong and hard, so solid and definitive that my senses, dull and tired from the long week, buzzed with confusion and want. I gripped my hands into the bend of his arms, pulling down, and consciously noticed how they didn’t move an inch. I wanted to touch all of him, I wanted to feel every part of this body, to feel it as it moved and searched and worked. ‘Gio,’ I said hoarsely, his teeth pulling on my lip as he pulled his face away to look at me. ‘Amor,’ he said, burying his face in my neck, his lips and tongue working themselves over me, moving further down my body, his hands cupping my ass as his.
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