Frantically, she urged the big horse to increase his pace. They sailed over fence after fence when out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nicholas coming alongside her. Hooves thundering against the ground beneath them, the two stallions raced neck and neck toward a wall of gray stones. A second later, both horses sailed over the wall with Nicholas landing close beside her.

Before she could bat his hand away, he had hold of Mischief's cheekpiece bringing the stallion to a slow halt. The moment the horses were standing still, Nicholas grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off Mischief. Physically spent from the hard ride, Victoria didn't protest as he dropped her unceremoniously in his lap. She knew he was angry, but being in his arms felt as if she'd come home. It was an odd sensation, and Victoria brushed it aside.

"I ought to thrash you for such a fool stunt," he bit out as he grabbed Mischief's reins.

"What fool stunt?" Victoria shook her head knowing exactly what he meant.

"Your insistence on riding the damn horse." His mouth thinned with anger. "If Mischief had thrown you at that fast pace, you could have been killed."

"It wasn't a stunt. I told you I know how to ride," she said with an exasperated sigh.

"Whether you can or not, you chose to ride a horse that would test even my skill."

Despite his censure, she heard a distinct note of puzzlement in his voice. The pounding of hoof beats made Victoria turn her head toward the sound. Sebastian and Charles were the first to reach them, and the two men appeared deeply concerned.

"Is she all right?" Sebastian asked.

"I'm fine." Victoria glared at Anna's husband.

"From her waspish tone, I think we can safely assume she suffered no injuries."

The wry note in Nicholas' voice made Victoria look up at him. Amusement curved his lips slightly as he arched his eyebrows at her. Something flickered in his green-eyed gaze that made her heart beat faster. God, if the man turned up the charm dial, last night would be a simple heat wave compared to the inferno she was certain he would unleash inside her. More hoof beats echoed in her ear, and the remainder of the party surrounded them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mickey, his face pale and drawn, bringing Desert Wind to a halt a few feet away. Immediately the air was buzzing with a cacophony of questions and comments.

"How is she?" the Viscount Palmerton asked with concern as he looked at Nicholas. Irritated that the man hadn't simply asked her, Victoria started to answer the question but was forestalled from doing so by other voices.

"I say, you were quite lucky, Victoria," Charles Barrows exclaimed.

"Oh, my dear, we were so worried. Are you all right?" Catherine gasped with concern. Eyes wide with horror, the viscountess leaned forward in her saddle. "How on earth did you manage to keep your seat on a runaway horse?"

"Mischief didn't-"

"Thank god, you're all right, Victoria," Anna interrupted her with a warning look in her direction. "I thought the worst when Mischief shied then bolted away. Nicholas, you should take Victoria back to the house immediately. She's clearly exhausted from such a terrifying ride."

When she opened her mouth to protest, Anna's look made Victoria realize it was best to remain quiet to avoid any further suspicion. It was also true she was weary from the ride. The roan stallion had tested her skill and strength, and her arms ached from controlling the horse. Not to mention the fact that she had the beginnings of another headache. She glanced up at Nicholas who eyed her with curiosity, and Victoria looked away.

"I think I would like to lie down for a while," she murmured. "I'm sure Mischief will be quite sedate on the way back."

The air was abruptly filled with objections, except for the man holding her in his arms. When she tilted her head to look up at Nicholas, he eyed her with an autocratic expression of disapproval.

"You will not ride Mischief again," he said loud enough for everyone to hear before he bent his head and lowered his voice. "Ever. Is that clear."

The determination in his gaze dared Victoria to argue with him, but she was too tired to object. She nodded and remained silent as he lifted his head to look at his guests.

"I'll return Victoria to the house, while the rest of you finish your ride." Although his words were met with protests from the others, Victoria was relieved when he waved them into silence. "I insist. Victoria and I will take our time returning, and by the time you return to the manor, breakfast will be ready and waiting."

The riding party continued to protest, but Nicholas refused to be swayed. With great reluctance, the small group of riders cantered away while Mickey remained on the horse Nicholas had originally selected for her.

"My lord, I should have-"

"All that matters, Mickey, is that her ladyship wasn't harmed. However, in the future, the countess is not to ride Mischief again. Do I make myself clear?" At his quiet, yet firm words, the stable hand nodded his head vigorously.

"Yes, my lord," he said with a look of relief on his face. Mickey looked at her, "I am sorry, my lady."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Mickey." She smiled at the boy and was relieved to see him grin back.

"Take Mischief back to the house," Nicholas ordered quietly as he handed the stallion's reins to the boy. Mickey accepted the horse's leather leads then urged Desert Wind into a canter with Mischief trailing behind him. As the boy rode away, Nicholas nudged Zeus forward in a slow walk along the stone fence. Silence hung between them for several minutes before Nicholas spoke.

"You were frightened," he observed quietly.

"No, I wasn't," she said emphatically. "I know how to ride, and Mischief didn't bolt."

"I'm not talking about the horse. You were trying to run away, and I'd like to know why." The soft words stole Victoria's breath away. How could he know? When she didn't answer, he blew out a noise of aggravation. "Tell me why you were running away, Victoria."

"Because I don't belong here." She didn't look up at him and kept her gaze fixed on where the stone fence ended at a smooth dirt roadway. "I'm not your wife."

"Ah, that again." His resigned tone of voice made Victoria stiffen with irritation.

"Yes, that again. I don't know why it's so difficult for you to believe me.

"It's not so much a matter of believing you, Victoria. It's a matter of proof." For a moment, she didn't speak as she absorbed his words. Was it possible he had doubts?

"Isn't the fact that I rode Mischief the type of proof you need?" she asked in a hopeful voice. "I'm not an idiot. You made it clear last night you expected me to fail Riding 101, but I passed with flying colors."

"Riding one 'o' one?"

"It's an expression, it means a beginner class," she snapped with frustration. "Admit it. You didn't expect me to ride this morning, and you sure as hell didn't expect me ride Mischief."

"You're correct. I didn't expect you to ride this morning." The rueful reply made Victoria grit her teeth as he caught her chin in his fingers and made her look at him. "But you've not yet told me why you were running away."

Chapter 10.

"I wasn't running away."

"You're not a very good liar," he murmured at the lack of conviction in her voice.

Nicholas went rigid with amazement. He'd actually been able to tell she was lying. Vickie had always been so adept at lying it was difficult to know when she was or wasn't telling the truth. Her habitual deceit had forced him to operate on the premise that she always lied. But this was the first time in recent memory, if ever, that he'd been able to discern his wife was telling the truth.

"And you're an obstinate bastard." The sarcastic reply made him chuckle.

"I'm not as obstinate as you think, madam wife, and your language has become...quite colorful during your absence." He suppressed another laugh.

"You have no idea how colorful my language can be," she muttered in a bristly manner.

"Tell me where you were running to, Victoria."

He tried to keep his voice gentle, despite his determination to have the truth from her. The irony of the thought made his mouth twist slightly with frustration. His fingers captured her chin and forced her to look at him. The helplessness reflected in her sapphire gaze aroused a sudden urge to protect her. The sensation made him bite down on the inside of his cheek. The woman was weaving her magic over him, and he needed to remember who he was talking too. A voice in the back of his mind whispered something he wasn't ready to accept, and he crushed the sound.

"Answer me, Victoria," he said quietly.

"I don't know." With a tug she pulled free of his grasp and turned her head away.

"Shall we take a different tack?" he said with a sigh. "If I hadn't stopped you, where would you have gone?"

"London, I suppose. I don't really know."

"Are you afraid of me, Victoria?"

"Have I acted like I'm afraid of you?" she said with light-hearted sarcasm.

"With the exception of jumping into an icy pond, I'd say no."

The moment he spoke, her tension vibrated its way into him. Anna was correct. Victoria was frightened. She was so frightened she'd been willing to risk drowning in her effort to escape. What could possibly have her so terrified? Had she discovered something about Reardon and was frightened the man would hurt her. He'd never let that happen.

It was his duty to protect his wife, but his reaction to the idea of someone harming Victoria filled him with an inexplicable rage. The intensity of his anger was startling enough, but it was the fear accompanying his fury that alarmed him. It suggested his feelings for his wife were changing. Silence stretched out between them with the only other sounds being the clattering of pebbles beneath Zeus' hooves and the occasional chirping of a bird. After several minutes, he bent his head toward her.

"You must trust me, Victoria," he growled with frustration. Her gaze met his, and the fear in her eyes made him long to comfort and reassure her all would be well. They were emotions he didn't want to feel, but he was incapable of pushing them aside. Nicholas brushed his fingers across her cheek. "I can't help you, if you won't trust me."

"You can't help me," she whispered in a despondent tone.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" A tremor rippled through her, and he gently nudged her chin upward with his knuckle. "What if I agree to hear your story with my solemn oath that there will be no repercussions?"

"I don't understand." She studied him with a wary look.

Nicholas bit down on the inside of his cheek. Was he actually considering the possibility that she was telling the truth? His jaw grew tight with tension. No, he was simply trying to understand who or what she was running from. Now, he was the one who was lying. He wanted her to trust him completely, just as much as he wanted to trust her. Nicholas swallowed the knot lodged in his throat at the revealing thought.

"Whatever you tell me will be in complete confidence. I swear not to use it against you."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"My word is my bond, Victoria. I will not break it." Jaw clenched with angry indignation, Nicholas drew himself up straight, and Victoria had the grace to look remorseful.

"No matter how outlandish my story?" she asked hesitantly.

The cautious look on her face emphasized her fear. Impulsively, he stroked her cheek again. As his thumb rubbed against her lower lip, he realized how natural it felt to caress her this way. He jerked his hand away from her as a jolt of electricity surged through him. What the hell was wrong with him. He cleared his throat.

"No matter how ridiculous or outrageous your story sounds, I will not break my word." He met her gaze and waited for her response. With a slow nod, she inhaled a deep breath as she stared at him.

"I'm from the future."

The cadence of Zeus' hooves on the driveway didn't change as Nicholas frowned. What the devil was the woman talking about? He shook his head in puzzlement. He'd bluffed yesterday when he'd threatened to take her to the asylum, but now he wondered if he'd erred in not having Bertram at least have a look at her head. Irritation settled on her face.

"Aren't you going to say something?" she snapped.

"I'm uncertain what it is I'm supposed to say," he said with a bewilderment he'd not experienced since the day he and his sister, Abigail, had discovered the truth about their brother Edmund.

"Oh, that's reassuring," she said sarcastically.

"I'm trying to understand, Victoria, but you must admit it sounds like a ludicrous, far-fetched fabrication that-"

"Don't," she interrupted him. "I'm not crazy. And you promised you wouldn't use any of this against me. I'm not going to let you put me in a strait-jacket."

"I wasn't about to suggest that at all," he said as he suddenly envisioned her in an entirely different kind of restraint.

The image of her pinned beneath him as he thrust into her until she exploded over his cock knotted his muscles with intense desire. The strength of his need for her tightened his gut as he grew hard. He quickly shifted his body in an effort to avoid his erection from pushing into her hip. A knot threatened to remain lodged in his throat as he realized how much he wanted to bed her.

She was wreaking havoc on his senses in a way Vickie never had before, and he didn't like it. Desperately, he fought to remain focused on their discussion and not the things he wanted to do with her body.

"Then what were you going to say?" She looked up at him as she waited on his answer.

"I was going to say it's a story not even Vickie could invent." He knew how preposterous Victoria's explanation was, but he was certain she was telling the truth as she believed it to be. What he didn't understand was the way in which she was nothing like Vickie. Her speech, mannerisms, and even the way she responded to his touch. She was as different from the woman he'd married as was possibly imaginable.

"Oh." The subdued response made him chuckle, and she scowled at him before her expression lightened.

"Well, at least you've come to the realization that I'm not your wife." The satisfaction in her voice triggered a stab of regret in him.

"No, I've not reached that conclusion at all."

"You just said that Vickie couldn't invent a story like this."

"Victoria, you sustained a nasty blow to your head." His hands tightened on Zeus' reins as he sensed her disappointment and frustration. "Injuries such as yours can manifest any number of fantasies, including one that makes you believe you're from the future."

"It's not an illusion. I'm not from your time. I don't belong here."

The mutinous tilt of her lips barely covered her fear and aroused something strong and visceral inside of him. He longed to make her feel safe. He wanted to hold her in his arms and press his body into her sweet curves like he had last night. His heart thundered almost painfully in his chest at the memory of how close he'd come to burying himself inside her hot core.

Christ Jesus, without protection he might have fathered a child. He struggled to breathe. Nicholas fixed his gaze on the road and shook his head as if that would rid himself of the sensations gnawing at him.

"Tell me what this future of yours looks like."

"Well, in my time, you're dead and buried, obviously." It was a blatant retaliation for what he was certain she perceived as his attempt to appease her like a child.

"That is a decidedly unpleasant picture," he murmured as he fought not to laugh. "But if that's true, then it makes you much older than me."

"You can be a real jerk, you know that."

This time he couldn't restrain his laughter. He didn't know what a jerk was, but he was certain it wasn't a compliment. The scowl on her face only emphasized the fact. Suddenly, her irritation evaporated, and laughter lit up her features.

A vise tightened with unexpected speed around his chest at the sight. He'd never seen his wife laugh at herself or laugh with such unrestrained amusement. Victoria's laugh was far from the artificial sound of amusement Vickie had, and he realized he liked the change in her laughter. Alarm bells went off in the back of his head.

The witch was turning his world upside down, and that was something Vickie had never done. His wife had evoked lust and desire in him when they first met, but those feelings had died on their wedding day. But the one emotion he'd never experienced with Vickie was this constant sense of being off balance. He found it difficult to think clearly when she was near. Worse than that, he wanted her in his bed. In an effort to regain control of himself, he cleared his throat.