Read Online Day Dreamer by Jill Marie Landis - Free Book Online

would know, and now that her initial panic had subsided, she did not feel desperate enough to steal into his past.
    She stretched, aching all over from the jolting carriage ride. The bed looked all too inviting, with plenty of space for her to lie beside Cordero without touching him at all. Celine lowered herself gingerly to the edge of the bed. She waited, half expecting him to at least shift positions, but aside from a sigh, he didn’t react. Slowly, cautiously, she stretched out and lowered her head to an herb-scented pillow.
    Before she closed her eyes, she gathered the silk gown close and tucked it around her so that no part of it came in contact with him. Then, determined to awaken before him, she let herself relax and drift off to sleep.
    His mouth tasted like he had rinsed it with New Orleans gutter water.
    The bell which summoned the slaves to morning prayer rang twice more and then thankfully stopped before the sound split his head in two. Cord lay with his eyes closed, reluctant to increase the torture of what promised to be one of his more memorable hangovers. As he tried to piece together the events of the previous evening—the wedding he wanted to forget, the bride he had sought to outrage—his only recollections were of Stephen hauling him about and yelling in his ear and a pair of haunting amethyst eyes. The rest was a blur.
    His head hurt like hell. Cord rolled to his side and opened his eyes to discover he wasn’t alone. He stared curiously at the young woman stretched out beside him. When he’d agreed to do the honorable thing and marry the girl in his cousin’s stead, Cord had never expected Jemma O’Hurley to be beautiful.
    For a man who with no expectations at all, he found himself wedded—and, it seemed, bedded—to a rare beauty. Perfectly still, she lay like a fallen angel with a riotous mass of long ebony curls that framed her face and draped across her breasts. Her eyes were closed, her dark lashes glossy half-moons against her cheeks. Her lips were full, lush and tempting.
    Slowly, so as not to set his head throbbing harder than it already was, Cord raised himself on an elbow to better study her. The coral gown enhanced the golden tone of her skin. Beneath the low neckline and ill-fitting bodice, her shapely breasts rose and fell with each breath. Her hands were perfectly cast, her fingers tapered. One hand, palm up and open, rested above her head on the pillow. He was tempted to stretch across the space that separated them and touch the vulnerable underside of her wrist.
    For the moment it was easy to forget that he did not want this marriage. It was easy to forget the world outside his door, and the real reason why he had agreed to marry her. All he could picture, and with the utmost clarity, was what a true bridegroom would be doing the morning after his wedding.
    Without warning, she opened her eyes. For an instant she stared at the ceiling, then she blinked and slowly turned her head in his direction. The strange, near-violet eyes he recalled so vividly from the night before stared directly into his. He felt as if she could see into his very dark soul.
    As if bewildered by his presence, she frowned.
    “Good morning,
wife
.” He managed a smile, although it pained him.
    Her gaze never wavered. “I think you’re still drunk.”
    “But you’re still here. I’m surprised.”
    He was content to study her. She appeared much younger than he had first suspected, not more than eighteen or nineteen years. Her skin was clear, almost glowing. Her thick curls were glossy and black. If she was nervous, if being alone with him frightened her in the least, it didn’t show. She possessed the confidence of a much older woman.
    She traced a swirling pattern on the coverlet.
    “I hoped you might find my condition last night so offensive you would renege on the marriage agreement,” he admitted coolly, testing her mettle.
    She mirrored him by raising on an elbow and propping her head in her hand.