Dangerous to Love by Rexanne Becnel

match between the two of them, Lucy had prepared herself for the trying hours ahead.
    “This vehicle is rather small,” she began when he seated himself beside her and took up the reins. “Surely you have something larger in your stables.”
    “I thought the open phaeton a better choice than the closed carriage,” he answered as he chirruped to the pair of handsome bays. He swung his head around and met her gaze, and her heart began to thud. Then holding her eyes captive with his, he shifted his leg so that his knee touched hers.
    Lucy’s heart managed somehow to lodge in her throat.
    But then, that was what he wanted, she reminded herself. To unsettle her. To disconcert her.
    She refused to let him succeed.
    “If you insist on crowding us this way,” she muttered, “then at least be good enough to keep your … your limbs to yourself.”
    “My limbs?” He gave a wicked laugh, displaying a flash of white teeth against his dark skin. “That’s right. How could I forget? The word ‘legs’ is far too coarse for ladies of refinement.” He leaned forward just a little, and in the process brushed his arm against Lucy’s. “Tell me, Lady Valerie. You grew up with several brothers. Do you refer to your lower appendages as ‘legs’ or ‘limbs’?”
    Lucy could feel Valerie trembling. Or was it herself? She caught the girl’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Though she was glad Valerie’s timidity would ultimately be her best protection from the earl’s devilish charms, there was a part of her that wanted Valerie to stiffen her spine. She should put Ivan Thornton in his place with a short, pithy reply.
    But that was not going to happen, and Lucy knew it. When the silence from Valerie’s side of the seat lengthened, when the girl’s cheeks grew hot with color and her hold on Lucy’s hand turned positively painful, Lucy knew it was up to her.
    “Lord Westcott, if you insist on bringing up subjects inappropriate to a young woman of Lady Valerie’s sensibilities, then perhaps it would be better if you turn this vehicle right around and return us home.”
    They hadn’t quite reached the end of the square. When they did, however, Ivan proceeded down Berkeley Street, then turned into Picadilly Street, as if he hadn’t heard her at all. But he’d heard, all right, and his next words confirmed it.
    “You must allow me the opportunity to ascertain my cousin’s sensibilities, Miss Drysdale. Athough we are family, we have only just met. If she is not as prone to frankness and candor as you are, you cannot hold me accountable for not being knowledgeable of that fact. I’d be willing to wager that you, notwithstanding your current role as her chaperone, are more likely to call your lower appendage a leg. But if you and Lady Valerie prefer I call it a limb, then very well. I admit it. My limb is encroaching on your space.”
    He pressed his leg very deliberately against hers and grinned. Then he pulled it away. “There. Is that better? My limb is no longer touching your limb.”
    If Lucy hadn’t been so flustered by the unsettling feel of the strong muscular thigh lying beside hers, she would have dismissed his behavior as merely the teasing antics of a young man. Unfortunately there was a deeper, darker side to his teasing. A threateningly masculine side that she was less sure how to handle.
    Praying he was finished with such antics, she resolved to concentrate on getting through the drive as best she could.
    Despite her earlier objections, Lucy had to admit that the day was perfect for an open vehicle. The sky was a high, clear blue, decorated with occasional clouds of brilliant white. A light breeze kept the weather mild and she found herself enjoying the ride very much. This was London at its best, free of either fog or smoke.
    He handled the pair of bays with a masterful touch. She’d always heard that Gypsies were especially good with horses. His hands were light on the reins, but strong too. She watched