Read Online Cross the Ocean by Holly Bush - Free Book Online Page B

her. “About … about the day men and women are equal,” she added.
    He leaned close to her, blew a breath and whispered, “I think not.”
    Gert covered her head with her hand. “Did you just blow in my ear?” A chill went down her spine.
    Sanders stood, hands on his hips with his feet spread wide. “I would be happy to repeat the gesture if you were still daydreaming about suffrage.”
    Gert pursed her lips as her face reddened. The way he stood evoked a ship under his feet as he laughed at the elements or pursuers. Her favorite fantasy was ruined and she was angry.
    “Do you want to be punched in the nose again?” Gert asked.
    He tilted his head. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Rarely do women find my kisses cause for violence.”
    Gert harrumphed and swept past him. Yet, his words stopped her.
    “Should we repeat our moment by the lake and see if the effect is different this time?” he asked.
    Gert was shaken when he referred to the kiss as ‘our moment.’ The words held intimacy, history, an impending future and words failed her. She turned to him with no witty barb emerging from her confusion.
    No repartee delivered with icy hauteur. The pirate, in her head, was blowing in her ear and she had to escape. Gert stuck out her tongue and hurriedly followed the others into the house. Anthony and Elizabeth were in the foyer with Mrs. Wickham who was directing where trunks were to be taken and which fires to be lit. Gert undid the clasp of her new navy cape and handed it to a servant seemingly only there to receive it. She straightened the new dress and tugged at the neckline. Sir Anthony found something vastly amusing when he looked at her.
    “Something funny, Anthony?” Gert asked.
    “No,” Anthony said and shook his head.

    * * * *
Blake ran up the steps to the door, a cocky grin on his face. Although the thought of spending time with Gertrude Finch did not settle well with Blake, he had resigned himself to it during the long ride to London. More arguments would undoubtedly upset Melinda and this was, after all, her debut.
    Come-outs were the domain of the females in his sphere but he knew for a fact she was both nervous and excited. He would be a charming, attentive host and do nothing to make his daughter worry.
    And he could clearly unsettle the American. It was an appealing thought and somehow soothed his bruised pride and ego. Let someone other than the Duke of Wexford act wholly out of character. The righteous Miss Finch had blushed when he blew in her ear. Where were her thoughts? He smiled triumphantly when he realized he may not be the only one to wake in a cold sweat reliving their kiss.
    Tony may be right. This may prove to be a vastly entertaining interlude. She had her back to him and he rubbed his hands together as he envisioned her shock when he told her his plans for that tongue she stuck out.
    “Miss Finch, never stick your….” Blake stopped mid-stride as she turned. A vast sea of white flesh held his eyes. Big, soft, cream-colored breasts jutted over the neckline of her dress. His lip twitched. He wanted to bury his face between them and not come up for days. He wanted to kiss and lick the mountains till he found their peaks. Blake growled and stared.
    “Never stick what?” Miss Finch asked. She followed the direction of his eyes.
    “Ah, pardon?” Blake asked and looked up briefly.
    “You asked me a question about sticking something,” Miss Finch replied. Anthony laughed beside her.
    Blake’s head snapped to her face and he swallowed as he realized what he wanted to stick and where.
    The thought overwhelmed any other sense in his head. Think, man, think, he said to himself. What was she talking about and what was the correct reply? We’re in London. Melinda’s come-out. Blake took a weak breath. Dear God. Miss Finch couldn’t be seen at balls like this. Not a soul would look his daughter’s way.
    “Cover yourself, woman. Bloody hell,” Blake said.
    “‘Tis