Free Naughty in Nottinghamshire 02 - The Rogue Returns by Leigh LaValle

was going to cost him that prime parcel of pastureland if he didn’t get rid of her soon.
    He would feel sorry for Helen as well, were she not so insistent on accompanying him into the Pennines. What sane woman demanded to ride by horseback for over a hundred miles when she was scared to death of the beasts?
    A woman who had everything to lose, that’s who. A woman with strength of spirit, a steel will, and an appreciation of adventure.
    He looked back at her, begrudgingly admiring her bravery. The ruined bonnet hid her face, but he imagined her expression was pinched and stubborn. He wanted to tease a smile out of her, perhaps another kiss.
    Definitely another kiss.
    Who was he kidding? He wanted more than a kiss. He wanted to find a soft patch of earth and watch her come undone beneath him. He wanted to bury himself deep within her and drive her wild.
    Helen dropped the left rein and fussed with the beaded, tasseled thing on her right wrist. The mare slowed to a walk, then a standstill. Helen grabbed the left rein again, tugged here, tugged there, and led the mare sideways into a bush.
    “Onward, onward,” she muttered, rocking her hips forward in a motion that did nothing for the mare, but everything for Roane’s imagination. Helen might be a headache, but she was a beautiful headache.
    And he was twenty kinds a fool. There would be consequences if he didn’t get his head out of his pants and gain some ground today.
    He rode back toward her. “Please, Lady Helen, let me put that thing …” He waved his hands at her wrist. What had she called it? “That ridicule in my saddlebag. It will be safer for you and the mount.”
    “It is a reticule , not a ridicule . And no, thank you.” She yanked the ties around her wrist and smiled sweetly, though lines deepened at the corners of her eyes. “I am ready. You may continue.”
    She was pale, too pale even for a London miss. “We should be in Bakewell in another hour.” He’d meant to comfort her—certainly she’d want to be done with the riding astride part of their adventure. But she set her chin and looked down her nose at him.
    “We needn’t stop in town on my behalf.”
    She was not going to make this easy on him. Very well, he would return the favor.
    With a slight pressure of his knee, Roane turned Zeus north. The gelding followed effortlessly and Roane patted his neck—how he loved this horse. Three years apart had been three years too long. He was relieved to see Mazie had taken good care of the beast.
    Not that he was surprised. Mazie had always been a loving and thoughtful sister, even when their father had endeavored to keep them apart. Roane might not approve of her choice in husbands—now there was an understatement—but he loved Mazie unconditionally. He couldn’t wait to be reunited with her and meet his little niece and nephew. Most likely, Mazie would scold him for not writing earlier of his return. Indeed, he was disappointed she was on the Continent, but a part of him appreciated the opportunity to settle his future before seeing her again. Especially before seeing the man whom he refused to call his brother-in-law. They were not brother’s, not in any way. Considering the manner of their parting, his pride demanded he return to their home with, not just a plan, but a sizeable plot of land and a small, legitimate fortune in hand.
    Roane glanced at Helen behind him. Allowing a few paces between the animals, he clicked for her mount to follow. The mare tossed her head, obviously annoyed at her annoying rider, and settled into a smooth gait.
    “Easy on the reins, Helen,” he admonished. “You don’t want to hurt her mouth.”
    Helen was surprisingly quiet as they crossed a sheep meadow, green with spring grass, and approached the foothills. The Pennines looked quiet from this southerly view. Like rolling waves on the ocean, one had no notion of the storms to come. Of the ragged cliffs, steep edges, and dangerous moors that lay ahead.
    But