Read Online Forever Your Earl by Eva Leigh - Free Book Online

she couldn’t look away from their lines and contours. His clean, straight jaw. The unfair brilliance of his cerulean eyes. Eyes that possessed far too much knowledge of the world and its sensuous pursuits.
    Silence filled the inside of the vehicle for several moments.
    â€œYou’re sitting wrong,” he finally said.
    She glanced down. Her legs were crossed—­demurely, she thought, recalling instruction from her childhood. A lady always—­
    Oh. She wasn’t a lady anymore.
    â€œA man sits like that,” he continued, “and he’ll crush his bollocks to pulp. And another thing,” he added as she adjusted her stance, “don’t make that face when a man says something like bollocks . You risk looking like a milksop prig.”
    â€œMaybe I just have good manners,” she retorted.
    â€œOr you’re a milksop prig. We’re going to have to do something about your voice. It’s like your bollocks haven’t dropped.”
    â€œYou enjoy saying bollocks, don’t you?” But when she spoke, she lowered her voice to what she thought was a reasonable imitation of a man’s timbre.
    He shook his head. “Better not speak much at all.”
    â€œThat’s rather convenient for you.”
    His grin came as an unexpected flash of white, and it made her belly knot. “Everyone benefits.”
    â€œHorrible man.”
    â€œMore like, You rotten bastard —­when ladies aren’t present. If they are, call me a bounder or cur.”
    â€œDo men really alter their conversation so much when in the company of women?”
    His lids lowered slightly, but his eyes glittered bright blue. “You’ll find out tonight just how much.”
    She couldn’t stop her grin. “The prospect is both terrifying and thrilling.”
    â€œDon’t smile, either.”
    â€œWhat! I’ve seen men smile.”
    â€œBut you’ve got a woman’s smile, through and through. And it brings out the tiniest dimple . . . here . . .” He reached toward her cheek, and she reared back.
    â€œMen have dimples,” she protested on a rasp.
    â€œNot like yours. Small and soft and tempting.”
    It would be impossible for her to lower her voice to the depths Lord Ashford’s had just taken. But his words not only caught her off guard; they seemed to catch him by surprise as well. He frowned and straightened.
    â€œNot exactly used to complimenting the dimples on another man,” he said darkly.
    â€œBut I’m not another man,” she noted.
    â€œAnd thank God for that,” he muttered, “or else I could be tried for unnatural acts.”
    â€œPresuming I allow those unnatural acts to happen.”
    â€œThere would be no allowing but a mutual participation.”
    She forced out a laugh as her face heated. “Are you trying to teach me how to flirt?”
    His frown deepened. “That lesson is for later. For now, we should get our story in order. Who you are, how I know you.”
    â€œFill in the details.” She tapped her chin in thought. “Perhaps I’m a young gentleman of means who has just come into his inheritance, and you’re introducing me to the Town.”
    â€œYou’re my distant cousin. A lad from the country,” he added. “It’s the only way to explain that waistcoat.”
    She scowled. “Out of fashion, perhaps, but not out of fortune. I’ve got a country estate in Lincolnshire, and this is my first visit to London.”
    â€œYou’re too young to be officially introduced into Society—­”
    â€œBack to those undescended bollocks,” she said.
    â€œâ€”­so you aren’t on the bride hunt, and I won’t be taking you to any official Season events.”
    â€œBut gaming hells are appropriate for an impressionable lad?”
    â€œWith me as your guide and guardian,” he said, a corner of his mouth turning