If Love Were Enough by Suzanne Quill

you, no less me, to be sniffing around her skirts and making rude and false comments about her sexual proclivities. If I hear such derisive comments come from your mouth again, or if I see you sidling up to her in hopes of sexual gratification, I will call you out. I will be most gratified when I put a bullet right between those beady little eyes of yours.”
    Noticing Dimsford was about to choke on his meal, Brandon stalked out hoping the lecher would be dead when he returned later in the afternoon.
    As he left, he chastised himself for the exact desires he deplored in Dimsford, while he resumed the search for the object of his interest and desire.
    He had already knocked on her door, but there was no answer. With the latch unlocked, he had entered to verify the room was uninhabited and found only a tidy, empty space. He searched the drawing room and the other public areas asking the staff he met along his route if they had seen Lady Rutherford. His search and his inquiries were fruitless.
    He headed for the maze and the bench therein, where they had spent quite a bit of time talking the afternoon before. But this brought him upon a couple, Baroness Haddon and Lord Blackston, in dishabille giggling and trysting with no regard as to who may discover them or what might be seen.
    He left repulsed. Could these people not have some discretion?
    He walked through the numerous gardens and inquired of the gardeners toiling in the fecund soil. None had seen her.
    Finally, he headed toward the stables. He was about to enter the open doorway when he heard the sounds of an approaching horse. He turned to see Priscilla cantering up on a spirited white mare, her dark green riding habit a strong contrast to the horse’s pale hide. When she rode nearer, he could see her face flushed from her exertions, her green satin hat askew flattering her eyes, tendrils of hair, having escaped from her chignon, framing her face.
    Memories of her passion and climax the prior evening invaded his thoughts, arousing his loins, causing his mind to think of all manner of dalliances. Would that he could have her ride him in such a manner.
    She pulled up the mare before him as a stable boy ran out to grab at the reins.
    Brandon took the two strides necessary to bring him up beside the horse. “My lady, I have been searching for you. Did you have a pleasant ride?”
    Priscilla looked down on him, the smile she was sporting moments before turning to a small frown. Her eyes lost some of their light, a small crease formed between her brows.
    Making no move to dismount Priscilla responded, “Yes, my lord. The weather is fine and I had not ridden out on these lands for five years. It was good to see my family’s estate in such good repair.”
    “Let me help you down, Lady Rutherford.” Brandon reached up but was stymied when she pulled back, the green satin of her gown rustling, her horse shuffling.
    Preferring not to make a scene while the stable boy stood by holding the bridle, Brandon decided it would be best to give Priscilla another option.
    “Would you prefer a step?” It was as if he could see her thought processes flit across her face. He had promised not to touch her. He had kept his promise. She needed to dismount. The boy was there to get the steps, but so was Brandon who was more than able to hand her down. He feared the outcome would not be good, when she surprised him by leaning toward him with arms outstretched.
    Stifling a sigh of relief, Brandon placed his hands around her slim waist, felt her hands upon his shoulders, and lifted her from the saddle.
    The groom led the mare away while Brandon pulled her body against his and slid her down the front of him.
    Her gasp was audible. He expected it had much to do with the erection pressed against her stomach, before her feet touched the ground.
    She looked up at him, her face a flush of bright color, her green eyes wide.
    Knowing discretion was his best weapon, Brandon did what he least wanted to