The falling leaves twirled and dashed against the carriage in a multicolored shower, a tempest churned by the racing horses and spinning wheels. “I used to love the fall,” she murmured. The forest road was narrow—only room for one vehicle—and potholed, and the ride was bumpy and jarring. She shivered, drawing her cloak closer. “But I’ve decided I don’t like the cold.” He drew her toward him just as the wheels jerked again, and she fell hard into his chest. His arms tightened to keep her there. “You’ll be warm soon enough. I’ll make certain of it.” He kissed the fine curling hair at her temple, trailed kisses down her jaw, below her ear, kisses that made her shiver. “How glad I am to have you alone at last. I could not have borne another moment of watching you across the room without being able to touch you.” “How long do you think before they discover we’re gone?” “Does it matter?
