Read Online Beguiling Bridget by Rachel van Dyken, Leah Sanders - Free Book Online
Authors: Rachel van Dyken, Leah Sanders
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on her shoulders. “If you fall in love with me, and I cry off at the end of the Season, your aunt will be more than understanding in your need to nurse your broken heart. And I am a difficult man to get over… Why, it may take you months — perhaps even years.”
A laugh escaped Lady Bridget’s throat, though she tried to stifle it with her hand. “Yes, and my poor soul would be so fearful of seeing the great Viscount Maddox at the Season’s events, I would surely take to my bed with a broken heart.”
“It would be expected,” Anthony agreed, his hands sliding down her arms.
“After all, you are highly sought after.”
“Many a tender-hearted girl would be sick with melancholy…”
She set her shoulders with apparent resolve, and he knew she had made a decision. Slowly, he turned her to face him. Her scent again invaded his senses, causing his body to tense with want. He would do well to remember she wasn’t his to possess. He knew she was weakening, that she saw the obvious advantage to his plan, but he wished to hear her say it aloud.
“What do you say?” His eyes locked with hers.
“I agree, but you must promise to keep your hands off me, my lord. It cannot be said that you ruined me, do you understand?” She brushed his hands off her arms without emotion.
“Perfectly,” he swore, allowing his arms to fall to his sides in surrender.
Rolling her eyes, a smile broke out on her face. “It’s kind of you to so readily agree, but I am serious. No kissing, no caressing, no—”
Anthony clapped his hand over her mouth. If she continued to speak thus she would find herself good and ruined. “Fine.” He thought his heart might explode. “I will agree to your terms, only please don’t say anything else. Such words do not help my current state of interest with your body, my lady.” He swallowed the knot in his throat. Then allowed mischief to play in his expression. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”
She glared. The cold steel of the knife blade rested at his chest, serving as a subtle reminder.
“So, is that a no?”
The room shifted. It seemed the lady suddenly realized what a compromising position she was in. The air in the room grew heavy, as did her eyes, and her gaze shot to the knife in her hand; her long eyelashes fluttered down to rest across her cheekbones in embarrassment. But not before an ever-so-brief moment of focus spent on his lips.
Not truly fearing the blade she held to him, he reached for her head and coaxed it toward his, planting a passionate kiss on her lips.
The knife dropped to the floor.
Anthony wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her in the air to pull her closer still.
The haze descended upon his mind in a dense fog of desire. The promise he had just made seemed only a dream, quickly dissolving in the heat of his need for her.
A sharp pain in his shin brought him hurdling back into clarity. Had she just kicked him? As if in answer to his unspoken question, a torrent of pointed blows rained on his legs — all proudly distributed by the woman he was now assaulting.
With a curse he dropped her; she sailed to the floor.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she said, breathless upon the floor at his feet. A glance at her was enough to ruin him even now, for her chest heaved with rapid gasps and the fire in her eyes matched the particular glint of her hair.
After a moment, Anthony found his voice again. “I am sorry.” He cursed again. “Don’t worry. I will keep my end of the bargain. However, I must add that tasting you is worth the torture you inflict. I give you my word to maintain a respectable distance, though few things are better than tasting of the forbidden fruit.”
“And I am the forbidden fruit?” Lady Bridget asked as she stood and straightened her skirts.
“It might be best if I think of you as a strawberry.” He winked. “Then it will become infinitely easier to maintain my distance.”
She laughed lightly. “Perhaps
A laugh escaped Lady Bridget’s throat, though she tried to stifle it with her hand. “Yes, and my poor soul would be so fearful of seeing the great Viscount Maddox at the Season’s events, I would surely take to my bed with a broken heart.”
“It would be expected,” Anthony agreed, his hands sliding down her arms.
“After all, you are highly sought after.”
“Many a tender-hearted girl would be sick with melancholy…”
She set her shoulders with apparent resolve, and he knew she had made a decision. Slowly, he turned her to face him. Her scent again invaded his senses, causing his body to tense with want. He would do well to remember she wasn’t his to possess. He knew she was weakening, that she saw the obvious advantage to his plan, but he wished to hear her say it aloud.
“What do you say?” His eyes locked with hers.
“I agree, but you must promise to keep your hands off me, my lord. It cannot be said that you ruined me, do you understand?” She brushed his hands off her arms without emotion.
“Perfectly,” he swore, allowing his arms to fall to his sides in surrender.
Rolling her eyes, a smile broke out on her face. “It’s kind of you to so readily agree, but I am serious. No kissing, no caressing, no—”
Anthony clapped his hand over her mouth. If she continued to speak thus she would find herself good and ruined. “Fine.” He thought his heart might explode. “I will agree to your terms, only please don’t say anything else. Such words do not help my current state of interest with your body, my lady.” He swallowed the knot in his throat. Then allowed mischief to play in his expression. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”
She glared. The cold steel of the knife blade rested at his chest, serving as a subtle reminder.
“So, is that a no?”
The room shifted. It seemed the lady suddenly realized what a compromising position she was in. The air in the room grew heavy, as did her eyes, and her gaze shot to the knife in her hand; her long eyelashes fluttered down to rest across her cheekbones in embarrassment. But not before an ever-so-brief moment of focus spent on his lips.
Not truly fearing the blade she held to him, he reached for her head and coaxed it toward his, planting a passionate kiss on her lips.
The knife dropped to the floor.
Anthony wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her in the air to pull her closer still.
The haze descended upon his mind in a dense fog of desire. The promise he had just made seemed only a dream, quickly dissolving in the heat of his need for her.
A sharp pain in his shin brought him hurdling back into clarity. Had she just kicked him? As if in answer to his unspoken question, a torrent of pointed blows rained on his legs — all proudly distributed by the woman he was now assaulting.
With a curse he dropped her; she sailed to the floor.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she said, breathless upon the floor at his feet. A glance at her was enough to ruin him even now, for her chest heaved with rapid gasps and the fire in her eyes matched the particular glint of her hair.
After a moment, Anthony found his voice again. “I am sorry.” He cursed again. “Don’t worry. I will keep my end of the bargain. However, I must add that tasting you is worth the torture you inflict. I give you my word to maintain a respectable distance, though few things are better than tasting of the forbidden fruit.”
“And I am the forbidden fruit?” Lady Bridget asked as she stood and straightened her skirts.
“It might be best if I think of you as a strawberry.” He winked. “Then it will become infinitely easier to maintain my distance.”
She laughed lightly. “Perhaps
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