Dark Passions

8.

Meredith hurried up to her room to get ready, her heart pounding. She found the riding habit spread out on her bed already and she picked it up in surprise. The skirt was split to enable the wearer to ride a normal saddle, made of buttery soft leather, with a matching short jacket. A fine linen blouse with laces at the throat, and a small hat, completed the outfit. A pair of soft black riding boots sat on the floor as well. Meredith stroked the soft material carefully - this was more than she imagined it would be. She hurried to get dressed, fussing with her hair, tucking it under the hat, until it fell artlessly around her face, the rest pinned up. She twirled around in front of the mirror, admiring the way the material hugged her curves, before falling away to the top of the boots. Her face was flushed, and she suddenly didn't feel tired anymore. Humming happily, she nodded at her reflection, and left for the stable.

When she got there, Derek was nowhere in sight, but John was leading Mistral out into the yard. The dainty filly pranced happily behind him, as if happy to be saddled and ready for riding. "Oh, she truly is beautiful!" Meredith exclaimed.

"Aye, she is, ma'am," John replied. "And gentle too. You won't have any trouble with her. I trust you've ridden before?"

"Oh, yes," Meredith said, stroking the horse's soft nose. "It's been awhile, but I'm sure I'll be fine"

"His lordship should be right back. He took Satan for a gallop to blow off some steam, else Satan would be too eager and not want to wait for you, and Mistral. Satan is very hot blooded."

Meredith smiled to herself. Just like his master, she thought. Very hot blooded indeed. Then, as if on cue, Derek rode into view, the big stallion beneath him dancing and pulling at the bit, his flanks heaving from exertion. They slowed, cantering to a stop in front of Meredith. Derek dismounted quickly, coming to take her hand. His eyes swept over her approvingly. "Ah, Miss Grey, you look wonderful. That outfit looks as if it were made for you." His gaze lingered at her throat, the open lacing giving him a tantalizing view of her creamy skin. He could see the pulse beating there, right where he had pressed his lips the previous night. Then his eyes met hers, and his body tightened with wanting her. Her sea green eyes sparkled at him, and for a moment he forgot where they were.

John coughed discreetly, breaking the spell of the moment. "Ahem, well, then sir, the food is packed in saddlebags for ye, and Mistral is ready."

"Oh, yes, thank you, John. That will be all," Derek said, taking the reins in his hand. His other hand reached for Meredith's, as they walked out into the paddock. She tried to pull away, looking over her shoulder.

"M'lord, you shouldn't...."

"Shouldn't what?"

"Take my hand - it's not proper. What will John think?"

"He won't say anything, Meredith," Derek assured her. They stopped then, the two horses greeting each other. "And what happened to calling me Derek?" he grinned at her, the tiny crinkles at the corner of his eyes only emphasizing the intense blue color.

"M'lord... it's one thing at night, when we're both...in bed..." she stumbled again over her words.

"Naked? You can only call me Derek when I'm naked? We'll have to do something to make that situation a reality then," he laughed, feeling the need to kiss her right then and there.

"Oh!" she giggled, despite herself, the sound of her laughter making him smile more broadly "Are we riding now?" she asked sweetly, peeking up at him through her lashes.

"Yes, yes, of course. Let me help you up." He moved closer to her, and she inhaled the spicy, soapy, scent of him. He cupped his hands for her, and she vaulted easily into the saddle, wondering if he had used the opportunity to look at her ass, outlined in the tight riding outfit. She grinned to herself as he quickly swung up onto Satan, wheeling the horse to lead the way out of the yards.