“Good morning,” he said, leaving the saddle sitting unfastened on the horse’s back and moving to the stall rail to meet her.

“Good morning,” Suzette said automatically. “Why are you saddling a horse?”

“Because I’m going to ride it,” he said simply. “It will be faster than a carriage there, though we will have to return by carriage, I suppose. Mother enjoys riding on horseback, but she is getting older and was ill this last year. I don’t wish to overtax her more than necessary.”

“Mother?” Suzette echoed blankly.

Daniel chuckled at her expression and slipped out of the stall. Pausing in front of her, he slid his arms around her waist as he said, “Yes, Mother. I should like you two to meet, and I would like her at our wedding, so I am going to collect her. It’s why we pressed on an extra hour last night. This inn is only an hour from Woodrow.”

“Oh,” Suzette breathed. Dear God, she was going to meet his mother! What if Lady Woodrow didn’t like her? What if she hated her and refused to condone the marriage? What if—?

“What’s going on inside your head?” Daniel asked with a frown. “You look horrified. Don’t you want my mother at the wedding?”

“I—yes, of course. I just—what if she hates me?” Suzette asked plaintively.

Daniel chuckled again and hugged her close. “She will not hate you. No one could hate you,” he assured her and then pulled back and said, “Now, this is the first time we have been alone in days. Do you think I could have a good-morning kiss to see me off?”

Suzette blinked, her worries about his mother’s liking or not liking her suddenly sliding away, if only temporarily, at the suggestion.

“Hmm?” he asked, lowering his head.

“Oh yes,” she breathed and then his mouth was on hers.

It was not a good-morning kiss, Suzette decided as his tongue slid out to urge her lips open. At least it wasn’t to her. Good-morning kisses, in her mind, were sweet pecks. This was more of a good-morning, good-afternoon and good-evening kiss all in one, she thought as his mouth devoured hers. Or perhaps it was more of an “I want to throw you in the straw, toss up your skirts and have my wicked way with you kind of kiss,” she decided as his hands began to roam.

Damn, the man could kiss, Suzette thought faintly, slipping her arms around his neck and arching into him as his mouth slanted over hers. She then moaned as he slid one hand down to press against her bottom, urging her hips forward. When she felt his maypole press against her through their clothes in a “good morning” of its own, Suzette sighed and rubbed herself against him in a return greeting that made them both groan.