Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) by Cheri Champagne Page A

him.
    Her jaw dropped open on a sigh, and he delved inside, elation washing over him. She tasted of lemon raspberry tart; the hint of sweet was enough to drive him to desperation. He tangled his tongue with hers, urging her further, deeper with his actions.
    This is Anna! The jubilant realization hit him hard. Finally , he was kissing her, tasting her. Blazes . He wanted more!
    She tangled her fingers in his hair, the gentle, almost painful tugging sending tingles of delight down his spine.
    She was intoxicating. He wanted to touch her, to feel her. He didn’t care if he couldn’t complete the act of lovemaking, he just wanted to give her pleasure. Endless, erotic pleasure.
    He wanted to trace his hands—nay, his tongue—along the ridge of her collar, circling her breasts to tease the sweet buds of her nipples. Blazes , he wanted to taste her womanly centre, to have her body sing with sensual desire and reach her peak over and over at his hands.
    His thoughts hardened him unbearably. He throbbed…he ached for her.
    Lane let his hand wander to her waist, his fingers fisting in the sunny material. His entire will went into not laying her down in the damp grass and—
    “Lane,” she moaned, breaking their torrid kisses. “Do you hear that?”
    The distant rumble of a horse’s hooves and wheels on a dirt road invaded his senses.
    “No,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. Please do not let this end!
     
    * * *
     
    Anna quite felt like groaning, herself. She’d never known kisses like Lane’s—so passionate, so… addictive .
    Her heart fluttered and her mons throbbed. She most certainly wanted more.
    The distant rumbling drew nearer, pulling her once more from her thoughts.
    “You don’t suppose it’s…” she trailed off.
    “No,” Lane assured her as he stood, aiding Anna to her feet along with him. “That is a single horse with a light,” he scrunched his face in thought as he listened, “two-wheeled equipage.” He tightened his grip on her hand as he retrieved the bundled the remains of their supper. “Come.”
    Anna went along with him, his hand hot on hers. The faint flutter continued low in her belly as they moved quickly through the forest toward the noise. The light was rapidly fading, casting a grey-blue glow on the trees around them.
    Branches tugged at the skirts of her butter-coloured frock and the petticoat beneath. A chill ran through her, and she realized just how cool the air had become since the sun retreated.
    Abruptly, the forest opened onto a dirt road, where they halted. Not thirty paces to their right was a figure sitting on a horse-drawn wagon, a lantern held aloft, swinging with the wagon’s motion. Anna squinted against the light, holding one hand to block it out.
    “Ho there!” called the hesitant voice of an elderly man. “What seems to be the trouble?”
    Keen relief rushed through Anna. This could be their saving grace!
    They strode forward, meeting the man and his horse as they stopped in the road.
    “Hello, sir! My name is Mr. Roberts,” Lane prevaricated. “My wife and I have been unlucky in our choice of equipage, I’m afraid. Had an accident some miles back and have been wandering through the forest ever since.”
    “Bad luck, wot?” The elderly man’s eyes crinkled warmly in the corners as he leaned forward in his seat.
    “I do hope it is not too bold to ask, sir,” Lane continued, “but my wife is exhausted from our walk. Would you be so good as to bring us to the next inn? We would be ever so grateful, and I could pay you handsomely for your trouble.”
    The man waved a hand through the air. “No need to pay me, Mr. Roberts. I am headed that way meself.” He smiled, revealing one missing bottom tooth. “My name is Peter Collins.”
    Anna curtseyed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Collins. We are forever in your debt.”
    “Nonsense, Mrs. Roberts. I’d be happy te take ye te the inn. It’s not far from here, but a few miles more.”
    The