Read Online Ann Lethbridge by Her Highland Protector - Free Book Online Page A

of folly indeed. But it must be so, because she was the only one who ever used the library in the evenings. Her cousin never had time for reading and Mrs Preston preferred the drawing room, where the light was better for her needlework.
    Still, she could not help feeling that someone was there. Cautiously, she pushed the door wide.
    At one of the tables, a man sat in his shirtsleeves. The light from the candle fell on the book he was reading and cast half his face in shadow. She had no trouble recognising his broad shoulders, the large hand that turned the page, or the studious and handsome profile cast into planes and shadows. Mr Gilvry. An inner gladness bubbled in her veins. A glow of joy at the sight of him. A feeling like nothing she had ever experienced.
    As if she actually liked the man.
    How was this? Her breath stilled. Her heart sounded loud in her ears. It was as if she’d made some monumental discovery, but did not yet understand its import. But in her heart she knew what it was. Recognised the danger. A growing attachment. Something she could not afford. She owed it to her position to think with her head and not let her heart get in the way. To think logically, as a man would. She must stand on logic or fail those for whom she was responsible.
    It left an empty space in her chest. A dark, cold fissure.
    Resentment flowed in to fill it. At him, because he was here in a place she’d thought of as her own, surely, for no other reason. Was there nowhere she could go and not stumble over him? He might have saved her life—twice—but it did not give him the right to invade every corner of it. She turned to leave.
    He must have heard the movement, because he looked up, then shot to his feet. ‘My lady.’
    Blast. Now she had no way to escape without acknowledging his presence. ‘Mr Gilvry.’ If she sounded stiff and haughty, it was because it was either that or sound breathless.
    ‘Can I help you?’ He sounded at a loss and his eyes widened as he took in her state of undress.
    She clutched a hand to the silky fabric of the robe, drawing it tighter about her throat. ‘What are you doing here, Mr Gilvry?’
    ‘Lord Carrick bade me make free with his library before he left.’ His glance travelled from her face down her body. It was a lingering glance that almost felt like a physical caress. Her nipples hardened. She glanced down and saw them jutting against the gown’s light fabric. Heat rushed to her face.
    It is the cold, she wanted to shout. She clung to what little of her dignity remained. ‘I doubt that he expected you to come here in the middle of the night.’
    Nor should she have come, wearing next to nothing. Yet she had come here so often when she couldn’t sleep it had felt like a refuge. Not any longer, clearly.
    ‘He suggested I come in the evening. After my duties.’ He picked up his candle and the light of it threw his face into sharp relief. The smooth lean plane of his cheek, the hard uncompromising line of his jaw. The jut of a blade of a nose. He had a strong face. There was nothing soft about it at all, but it appealed to her sense of what a man ought to be. Strong. Unyielding.
    A child’s view of the world, her father would have said. Looks meant nothing. Liking meant nothing. It was power and wealth that counted if she wanted to do her duty.
    ‘It did not occur to me that anyone else would have the same idea,’ he continued, looking uncomfortable. ‘It is the first opportunity I have had to take advantage of his offer.’
    ‘Then I should not disturb you.’ With a brief smile, she turned away.
    He reached the door before her, blocking her exit. As solid a barrier as the mahogany door itself. He stood staring down at her with such intensity, she could not hold his gaze.
    ‘Do not let my presence stand in the way of you finding a book.’
    His virile body exuded heat and power. And the scent of bay and lemon. Physical. Overwhelming. She could hardly breathe as she noticed the dark