La Bella Isabella by Raven McAllan Page A

to help with the horses, Harry was sure he could see her nipples peaking with the cold through her flimsy, muslin gown.
    “I say, are you all right?” Charlie openly ogled her body.
    “Of course I am,” the lady answered impatiently. “As your colleague had realized, it’s my horses that are not. Pray, sir, either help or get into the carriage and calm my companion before she shrieks the place down.” Wails were erupting from inside the carriage, growing louder which each passing second.
    “Oh, Peggy, be quiet,” she said—rather loudly, Harry thought, and he feared the woman’s voice would upset the horses even more. Her next words quelled his qualms, however. “You’re spooking the horses. Close your mouth, use your smelling salts, do anything, but stop that noise. Now!”
    Harry was amused at how she ordered everyone around. Charlie had obediently entered the carriage, where the wailing was subsiding. The groom on the box was following her orders, and he, himself, was patiently standing in the freezing cold, helping to calm the prime-looking cattle. And he was discovering by the minute how little the cold conditions were affecting his reactions to the fair lady. In fact, he grinned to himself as he struggled to adjust his clothing to allow a small degree of comfort; a certain part of his anatomy was mimicking the state of her nipples standing to attention, though in his case, it was not due to the cold and it was not his nipples…although they weren’t exactly flaccid either.
    As she continued to soothe the horse nearest to her, he saw her take note of him, of his physique, her eyes straying to his erection, now very obviously outlined under his tight-fitting garments. Was she wishing his hands were stroking her rather than the horse? As they were between the lamps that helped lighten the gloom, he knew she couldn’t see his face clearly, but had probably guessed by his clothes and his bearing he was one of the nobility…and therefore, could be trouble if he recognized her.
    Harry noticed she lowered her voice, changing the pitch slightly, as she thanked him for his help. “We are fine now. It was a dog that spooked them, and in this weather…” She shrugged, either unnoticing or uncaring how her breasts moved and shimmered under the thin material of her dress.
    Harry did notice, and his erection responded accordingly, making his pantaloons incredibly tight and uncomfortable. He stifled a groan. “My pleasure,” he replied, not altogether truthfully. It had been a pleasure to catch a glimpse of what seemed to be delectable breasts, but he was in pain, unable able to do anything with them.
    “Well,” she hesitated, “we must not keep you any longer, sir. Once again, my thanks.” She held her hand out to him and curtsied slightly. Harry didn’t think twice, and taking her outstretched hand, pulled her toward him, his mouth covering hers whilst he—unable to resist the temptation—grasped one lovely breast to tweak and torment its nipple.
    She gasped, in indignation or arousal, he knew not. “Sir,” she said stringently, “unhand me.”
    Harry laughed. The protest seemed forced. Her eyes were bright, and her breathing rapid. It was plain to him she was untouched, for such a simple caress had affected her. Used to more worldly women, to whom a fondle of the breasts meant very little apart from signaling his interest, the fact a casual caress could cause such a reaction produced an instant response in him. His cock was straining the knit of his pantaloons to their limit. He chose not to analyze why that was. Instead, he focused on the girl in front of him.
    “Why?” he inquired. “You like it.”
    She stiffened. The movement only brought her into even closer contact with his body, his aroused body. Obviously, her curiosity overrode her indignation, because she moved against him. He felt his cock swell even more.
    Harry groaned—or was it the mystery lady? For he felt sure she was a lady. He