Read Online Gypsy Jewel by Patricia McAllister - Free Book Online

been absurdly disappointed if she’d failed to respond. He felt her slim body move beneath his, his nudity barely concealed by the flowing lines of her full yellow skirts, and his eyes darkened as he drank in the changes time had wrought.
    Lovelier, if anything, now that she was a woman grown. She reminded him of a golden lioness with her tousled mane of sun-bleached hair spilling across the ground in a blaze of light. He moved one hand to pick a leaf from her tangled tresses, and held his breath awaiting an attack. Surprisingly, it never came.
    April’s thoughts whirled wildly. She could no more fight him than she could herself at the moment, and the sensation of water droplets trickling from his bare chest through her thin white blouse made her shiver with strange sensations. Why did it seem so oddly right that he should appear in her life again? Yet she had never dreamed that a simple walk through the forest this morning would completely change her life.
    Here she was, about to stand trial for attempted murder, and yet all she could think of was running her hands through a stranger’s thick, black hair, and gazing breathlessly up into his sea-blue eyes.
    With a wry smile, he said, “It seems we haven’t been formally introduced yet. My name is Damien.” For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to her.
    April accepted his word, asking only, “Is that a French name?”
    He nodded, which satisfied her, and waited for her to respond in kind. Instead, her next comment made him laugh.
    “You’re naked!”
    “We seem to have gotten ourselves into a compromising position this time,” he agreed, glancing momentarily away to focus on the sight of his clothes neatly stacked a measure downstream. “Have you any suggestions?”
    “ Certainement . You can get off of me.”
    Damien gave a low chuckle. “As I recall, I’ve earned a favor, little girl, from saving you all those years past. How quickly women forget their champions.”
    “I promised to tell your fortune, not roll with you in the grass,” April retorted quickly.
    “More’s the pity. By the way, where did you learn French? You speak it like a native.”
    “I know several languages,” she said, distracted by a lock of wavy black hair which dangled from his forehead. “Gypsies travel a great deal, and I wanted to learn all I could. It’s useful for telling fortunes, you see.”
    “And charming men?” Damien wondered why the thought sent a sharp pang of jealousy through him. “But surely you cannot be old enough for that. How old are you now, about fifteen?”
    “Almost eighteen,” April sputtered, coming up on both elbows when he freed her. Thankfully her skirts covered him all the way up to the waist, but she could not avoid a glimpse of his broad, bronzed chest, heavily furred with dark hair.
    Averting her gaze, she asked, “Why are you pretending to be romani ?” She took careful measure of his wagon and the old horse standing patiently in the traces.
    “I have decided to become Rom,” Damien replied, keeping his voice level. “I would like to join your band.”
    She was silent a moment, as if testing the sincerity of his words. “ Gaje before you have claimed they wish to follow gypsy ways. Usually they quickly change their minds.”
    Her tone was full of warning, but Damien did not notice. Instead he fought off the longing to run his hands down her smooth bare arms one last time, and asked her huskily, “Why were you watching me swim just now?”
    His question startled April, but she quickly replied, “I often walk in the woods.”
    “To meet a lover?”
    “Of course not.” Not until now, anyway . The unbidden thought sprang to her mind, and April willed it fiercely away. She dared not admit to herself that for several minutes she had watched Damien swimming, admiring his muscular arms cutting the water in smooth, clean strokes.
    “At your age, most girls are married,” Damien mused in a low voice as he looked down on her. He resisted