"I did?" she frowned before a sleepy smile curved her lips. "You came to make sure I was safe."

"Yes," he rasped as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers.

A soft sigh escaped her, and she arched her body up against his as she sought to deepen their kiss. Her hands pushed their way past his robe to run over his chest. The touch set off a chain reaction of lust and desire that made him tug the sheet away from her body.

His mouth left hers and he worked his way downward until he could suckle her breast with unrestrained pleasure. She whimpered as he tugged at a rigid nipple with his teeth then turned his attention to her other breast. With each flick of his tongue, she pushed her body upward against his in a wanton display of desire.

Lost in the sweet, fresh scent of her, Nicholas' brain stopped functioning as she pushed his robe off his shoulders. The garment fell away until her smooth, silky skin pressed into his. The moment her hand slid between them and grasped his erection, he shuddered and released a low groan. His hips rocked against her hand, and she applied just the right amount of pressure on his cock that blinded him to everything but the pleasure she was giving him.

Slowly, he slid his hand up a lush, rounded thigh, and her legs parted slightly to give him access to what he was seeking. The moment his thumb rubbed the plump piece of flesh just above the rim of her core, a soft cry parted her lips, and her hips jerked up off the bed.

"Nicholas, please...." The desperate plea in her voice was accompanied by her hand tightening around his erection and pumping him in an almost painful, but immensely pleasurable fashion. God help him, he wasn't going to last much longer. His body slid over hers until his cock was brushing against her sex.

"For the love of God, Nicholas, please. I need you inside me."

Her quiet appeal was like being doused in ice water. What the fuck was he doing? He knew better than to make love to his wife or any other woman. If he were responsible for...he didn't finish the thought. A dark growl of self-disgust erupted from his throat as he jerked away from her. In the dark, his hands scratched desperately across the sheets to find his robe. The garment in hand, he stumbled out of bed to cover himself in jerky movements. His groin shouted its objection, but he ignored the painful ache.

"Nicholas," the embarrassment in her voice made him stiffen. "I'm sorry... I...we're not even married."

"A topic of some debate," he bit out as he glanced over his shoulder at her, willing his cock to stop protesting the denial of release.

"I...I was sleepy..."

"I took advantage of you."

"No, you didn't," she said quietly, and he knew she was now fully awake. "It was my fault, but it just felt so...right."

Her words slammed into him like a sledgehammer. It was the truth, and he didn't understand how or why such a sensation was possible. He'd gotten lost in her curves, her smooth skin, and soft lips. Everything about her was intoxicating, and he didn't understand how he could have lost control like that with her. Vickie had stirred his lust, but this had been different.

This had been a hunger not only to possess, but to be complete. Nicholas quickly suppressed a snarl of self-loathing. He was imagining things. Tonight was simply a reminder he'd been celibate for a long time, and what he needed was a good fuck. The relief he needed could only be achieved with his own hand.

"Go back to sleep, Victoria," he bit out harshly as he headed toward the short hallway connecting their rooms.

Not waiting for a response, he closed her door behind him and returned to his room. With a vicious swing of his arm, he slammed his bedroom door shut. Nicholas pressed his back into the wood door as if his soul would perish if he moved. His gaze focused on the brass doorknob just below his hip. With just one twist, the door would open, and he could go back to claim what Victoria had so willingly offered to him. Eyes closed, he dragged in a deep breath. The scent of her was still on him. It was like an intoxicating drug that tested every last bit of will power he possessed not to go back to her. Christ Jesus, he needed to forget what had happened.

Unable to help himself, he remembered the soft, lush feel of her body. The dangerous thought came at a price as his cock hardened and demanded its release. In his mind, he envisioned the look of passion he'd seen on Victoria's face as he pumped his flesh with hard, fast strokes. The memory of her needy cries made his blood flow hot and with a restrained cry of release he spilled his seed.

Slowly he pushed himself away from the door and crossed the room to pick up the towel Roberts had left him earlier. God help him, but he'd almost lost all reason a few moments ago. He'd never been so out of control in his life. What happened in Victoria's bedroom moments ago was something that threatened to consume him even now.

Nicholas moved to his bed and slid beneath the cold covers. For a long time, he stared up at the ceiling trying to make sense of the current state of affairs. His eyelids drooped, and the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him was a seductive sapphire gaze and a body made for lovemaking.

Chapter 9.

The thud of the door closing behind Nicholas echoed softly through the air, and Victoria closed her eyes in humiliation. Dear God, what had she been thinking to offer herself to him like that? Victoria sat up in bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was an idiot. The man was married. No. He's a widower. The emphatic thought made her groan.

How could she possibly know her look-alike was dead? A familiar pounding took root in her head. Victoria rubbed her temple, her fingers grazing over her wound. The cut stung at her touch, and she winced. Before she'd gone to bed, she'd examined her head. Like Charles Barrows had pointed out before dinner, in addition to a cut, there was a small knot and a sizable bruise on her head. The cut wasn't deep, but it hurt like hell at the moment. Had she hit her head on something?

The pain intensified, and she sat as still as possible in the hope that not moving would make the headache go away. As the throbbing eased slightly, she exhaled a slow breath. Whatever had happened, she was fairly certain she'd been knocked unconscious. Her headaches and injury were strong evidence of that. The question still to be answered was what had happened to the countess? Had the woman hit her head on something and died, then by some bizarre twist of fate, Victoria had taken her place? Did that mean she was dead in the future? The horrifying thought intensified her headache, and Victoria gasped at the stabbing rhythm shooting through her temple.

The vicious pounding drowned out everything else, and she wrapped her hands around the back of her neck then pressed her forehead into her knees. Nothing. She had to think of absolutely nothing. As she cleared her mind of all questions, the pain diminished to a dull throb. Obviously, asking questions meant bad headaches. Maybe she was just supposed to accept her fate. That wasn't an appealing thought at all. She'd been quite happy in her own time period. Victoria snorted softly. She was kidding herself. Her trip to England was the first vacation she'd had in forever and look how good that was turning out. She closed her eyes in frustration. The worst of it was that she knew the only thing she had to go home to was a dead-end job, an empty house, and the regret.

Regret. Funny how one couldn't escape one's mistakes even in the past. A tear slid down her cheek as she remembered the way she'd stormed out of the house more than a year ago. Her dad and she were always at loggerheads. But she'd loved him dearly. They were just too much alike...had been too much alike. When she'd lost him, she'd been completely alone. If she'd only been able to tell him she was sorry. Slowly, Victoria laid back into the mattress and pulled the covers over her cold body. Curled up in a ball, she realized she didn't have anything in the future to go home to, and she didn't have anything or anyone in the past either. She'd never felt so lonely in her entire life.

Laughter floated out the front door of Brentwood Park Manor. Victoria, who was the first one outside, turned and saw Nicholas and his guests descending the marble steps.

"Good morning," Anna called out cheerfully as she crossed the pebbled driveway toward her. "You're an early bird."

"I'm looking forward to our ride this morning." Victoria smiled at the other woman. There was something warm and considerate about Anna, and she found herself thinking that at any other point in time they could be friends. As the viscountess stopped next to her, she tipped her head to one side.

"Did you sleep well?" Anna asked with a slight frown.

"Yes." The moment the lie passed her lips, Victoria saw a dubious expression cross Anna's features.

"As bad as that?" the other woman said sympathetically.

"Yes," she admitted with a sigh. Anna reached out and squeezed her arm in a reassuring manner.

"There's nothing to fear. You're among friends."

"Am I?" she murmured.

Victoria's gaze drifted to Nicholas' tall form. He was having a discussion with one of the groomsmen, and her heart skipped a beat as she remembered how close she'd come to having sex with the man. If her headaches didn't kill her, hiding her attraction from him would do the trick.

"Don't let Nicholas intimidate you. He's very good at that," Anna said firmly as she glanced over Victoria's shoulder. "Aren't you Nicholas?"

"Good at what?" There was the hint of a smile in his voice, but when Victoria looked at him, his expression was unreadable.

"Intimidation." Anna laughed.

"I never intimidate. I simply have expectations that people should meet." The teasing smile he unleashed on Anna made Victoria suck in a quick breath. God help her if he ever looked at her like that.

"Is Eleanor not riding with us this morning?" Anna looked around at the small group on the driveway.

"I am afraid Eleanor remembered a previous engagement. She returned to London early this morning, She begged everyone's forgiveness for her hasty departure."

Victoria's eyes widened, and she looked at Anna. The other woman turned her head away and coughed. Even on short acquaintance, she'd learned how to tell when Anna was laughing. Nicholas narrowed his eyes at the two of them, but didn't say anything as his hand cupped Victoria's elbow and drew her away from Anna.

Electricity streaked through her making it difficult to breathe until Nicholas released her as they stopped in front of a placid looking mare. The animal nuzzled his shoulder as though expecting a treat. In response, Nicholas retrieved a piece of apple from his coat pocket and offered it to the horse. Enjoying his interaction with the solid looking bay, Victoria rubbed the mare's nose.

"What's her name?"

"Desert Wind," he answered with a small twist of his lips as though enjoying a private joke. "You're not nervous about riding are you? The mare won't give you any trouble, but if you wish to beg off-"

"No, I'm good," she said tightly. "Does she like to run?"

When he didn't answer, Victoria turned her head toward him and caught the perplexed expression in his eyes. His puzzlement dissolved into amusement as his gaze met hers, and his smile sent her senses reeling. The tremor passing through her made her quickly stiffen her shoulders to hide the shudder.

"Run?" A wicked chuckle escaped his lips. "On occasion."

Nicholas didn't elaborate before he walked away to look after his guests. Victoria bit her lip pensively. Something was wrong. The man was far too pleased with himself. Convinced it had to do with the horse he'd selected for her, Victoria glanced over her shoulder. With a silent gesture, she beckoned to one of the stable hands. The boy sprang forward quickly.

"Yes, my lady." He removed his cap from his head in a gesture of respect and bowed slightly. Victoria stroked the mare's velvety nose as she smiled at him.

"What's your name?"

"Mickey, my lady."

"Do you think you could find me a horse that's a bit more spirited, Mickey?"

"I'm not sure that's wise, my lady. His lordship gave orders you were to ride Desert Wind here. She's an easy goer."

"I see." Victoria's jaw tightened with irritation. She understood Nicholas' refusal to believe her story, but she didn't like being patronized either with his choice of mounts. "I'm sure his lordship means well, but I can easily handle a more spirited animal."

"Well, there's Mischief, my lady. I was keeping him around the corner in case one of the gents was dissatisfied with their choice of mounts," the boy said thoughtfully. "But I have to warn you, he can be a handful."

"He sounds perfect," she said with a smile. Mickey grinned.

"Let me put your saddle on him, it won't take but a moment."

"I'll come with you."

With the small mare in tow, Victoria followed the young stable hand around the corner of the manor's front portico, which jutted outward from the two wings of the house. It created a shield from the others, and prevented Nicholas from realizing what she was doing. Tied to a hitching post, a magnificent roan stallion tossed his head in a spirited manner.

"He's beautiful," she breathed.

"Aye, that he is, my lady."

Pleased with her reaction, the boy grinned and quickly set about changing saddles. Mickey had tightened the girth strap on Mischief just as she heard the others calling her name. Hands locked together, Mickey formed a single step for her to use in mounting the stallion. As she settled into the odd saddle, Victoria tried to figure out where her legs and feet should be placed.

"Are you sure you shouldn't ride Desert Wind, your ladyship?"

Concern crossing his features, the young stable hand frowned. Victoria shook her head as she figured out that her right leg needed to overlap the saddle horn. She quickly slipped her feet into the stirrups then adjusted her riding habit.

"Don't worry, Mickey. I'll be fine. It's been a while since I rode side saddle," she fibbed.

She heard Nicholas shout her name, and with a soft laugh she winked at Mickey then urged Mischief forward with a slight nudge of her heel. Silence greeted Victoria as she rode out from around the portico. With the exception of Anna, everyone stared at her with a dumbstruck expression. Victoria's stomach lurched slightly as she wondered whether it had been a mistake to do something so unlike the woman she had no choice but to impersonate. Nicholas was the first to overcome his surprise.

"Mickey."

The roar of anger in that one word made Victoria flinch. She glanced over her shoulder to see the stable hand come running from around the portico. Fear on his face, the stable hand took his cap off and bobbed his head.

"Yes, my lord."

"What the hell is the countess doing on that animal?" Fury blistered through the quiet spoken question. Mickey paled in the face of Nicholas' wrath, and Victoria maneuvered her horse so it stood between the boy and Nicholas.

"Mickey was following my orders. Even if he'd refused to do as I asked, I would have changed the saddles without his help."

"Get off that horse, Victoria. He's too high-strung for you to handle." The harsh command made her roll her eyes at him.

"More temperamental than Desert Wind you mean."

"This has gone far enough, madam. I chose the mare because she won't bolt or throw you," he bit out in a low voice. For an odd reason, the thought that he'd been concerned for her well-being warmed her inside.

"I appreciate that, but I'm more than capable of managing Mischief."

"Damn it to hell. Get off that horse right now, Victoria."

"No." At her firm rebellion, he narrowed his gaze at her.

"I'll not tell you again, Victoria. Get off that damn horse, now." Despite the low, menacing note in his voice, Victoria met his furious gaze without flinching and smiled.

"Or what?" she inquired sweetly.

"Or I'll remove you myself," he growled with a ferocity that made her realize being the focus of his anger wasn't a good thing. Nicholas urged his stallion forward and leaned down to capture Mischief's bridle. Glaring at him, she sent Mischief prancing sideways with a slight touch of the reins before Nicholas had a chance to grab the bridle.

"I think that might be more difficult that you think, my lord," she said defiantly before she maneuvered Mischief away from him until Anna's horse stood between her and Nicholas' stallion. At the scowl on Nicholas' face, Anna smiled mischievously at him and then Victoria.

"It appears everyone has a mount, shall we be off?" Anna said as she prodded her horse forward and away from the manor. She clearly knew where she was going, and Victoria drew alongside her. The other woman looked over her shoulder then back to Victoria. "He's angry because he's quite bewildered by you."

"I doubt he's as confused as I am," Victoria said as she kept her gaze focused on the gently rolling landscape they were riding toward.

"It must be terribly hard to feel as though you're all alone in the world." The soft words made her jerk her head in Anna's direction.

"I'm not sure what you mean," she said as she looked away from the other woman's assessing gaze.

"Victoria, I have a...special ability," Anna said softly and looked over her shoulder as if to ensure no one else could hear her. "When you shook hands with me yesterday, I knew you weren't Vickie. I also know how frightened you are, and you shouldn't be."

The woman's words thundered through Victoria's head. Anna knew she wasn't the countess. Fear scraped across her nerve endings. She'd denied being the countess from the time she'd woken up in Goodman Cottage, but no one had believed her. Now Anna had just said she wasn't the countess. Did the woman intend to expose her as an imposter?

"Victoria, please, you're in no danger," Anna said fervently.

Despite Anna's attempt to reassure her, Victoria's heartbeat thundered in her ears. If Anna knew the truth, how long would it take others to realize she wasn't the countess? The moment people learned she wasn't the countess they'd start asking questions. Questions she couldn't answer. And unanswered questions meant suspicion and a lot worse.

Nausea twisted her stomach as she stared blindly at the landscape in front of her. If only she could wake up from this nightmare. She just wanted to go home. Without a second thought, Victoria urged Mischief forward into a canter and then a hard gallop. The cold wind lashed at her cheeks, but all she could think about was freedom. Ahead of her, she saw a low brick wall. Just before the stone barrier, the stallion gathered himself, easily clearing the hurdle.

Her inexperience riding sidesaddle unbalanced her for a moment as the horse landed on the opposite side. It took only a brief second to adjust her seat as the stallion pounded toward a tall hedge. Leaning forward, her cheek close to the animal's neck, Victoria felt Mischief's powerful muscles flex beneath her. The animal leaped up into the air and soared across the shrubbery as if he had wings.

Open pastureland stretched out in front of them, and Mischief's stride never hesitated at any of the barriers they approached. With effortless ease, he rose up and over every hurdle in his path. She had no idea where she was going. All she could think about was escape. Behind her she heard a shout. She glanced over her shoulder, and saw Nicholas gaining ground on her. He'd make her go back. There would be questions, and she wouldn't know how to answer them.