Read Online Jamintha by Jennifer Wilde - Free Book Online Page A

was flat on the ground, his body on top of mine. Freeing my arms, I pounded his back. I seized his hair, jerking his head, but his lips continued to cover my own with bruising force. The weight of his body pinioned me to the ground. Tiny rocks scraped against my back painfully as I fought.
    â€œRegular wildcat, ain’t you?” he said, laughing. Seizing my wrists, he moved into a kneeling position, his buttocks on my stomach, a knee on either side of my thighs.
    â€œLet me go!” I cried. “You—”
    â€œAw, don’t carry on so,” he said amiably. “You know you’re enjoyin it.”
    The vivid blue eyes gleamed with delight, and the wide, sensual mouth curved up in a devilish smile. I was terrified, the blood racing through my veins, my breath coming in short, frantic gasps. His silk shirt was damp, clinging to his chest, and the smell of alcohol was overwhelming. I squirmed and struggled, trying to throw him off, but his hands gripped my wrists tightly, the fingers like steel. I stared up at that handsome face, my eyes full of horror.
    â€œYou’re a lucky lass, you are,” he taunted. “Come on now, don’t put on such a show. I might hafta get rough.”
    He released one of my wrists and reached for the hem of my skirt, and I swung my free hand with all the force I could muster. It struck his face with such impact that he toppled over sideways. I jumped to my feet, and he stared up at me with a stunned expression. He sat up again and shook his head vigorously. I backed away, my heart beating rapidly.
    â€œMy God,” he whispered, seeing me clearly for the first time. “You’re not one of the village lasses.”
    â€œIndeed not!” I said hoarsely.
    â€œYou’re—my God! I know who you are.”
    â€œAnd I know who you are!”
    I should have guessed it from the first, of course. Brence Danver had been described to me on at least three different occasions. He was, indeed, as handsome as Satan before the Fall, and he was certainly a blighter. With great effort I managed to compose myself. I stared at him with loathing, and he looked up at me in wonderment.
    â€œI must-a been blind,” he said.
    â€œBlind drunk, more likely,” I retorted crisply.
    â€œNo harm done, Cousin Jane.”
    â€œNo harm done! You almost—”
    â€œShut up!” he ordered gruffly, scowling. “You’ll survive. My head is splittin’, and my body feels like I’ve been chunked out the window of a tower. Christ! That damned horse—I should-a had better sense than try ’n ride him in my condition. I thought a brisk ride’ud help—”
    â€œYou certainly can’t expect any sympathy from me,” I said, my voice pure acid.
    â€œStop your blabbin. You would-a loved it.”
    â€œHow dare you—”
    â€œI said shut up!”
    He glared at me, brows lowered. His sculptured cheekbones were pale, and there were deep smudges under his eyes. His forehead glistened with dampness, strands of hair clinging wetly, and a muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched. He looked frightfully ill now that the effects of the liquor were wearing off. Trembling with rage, I glared at him.
    â€œDon’t just stand there with your back stiff as a poker,” he snapped angrily. “Help me up.”
    â€œI wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Danver.”
    â€œGod, you are a little priss, aren’t-ja? I think I’ve twisted my ankle. It’s throbbing somethin’ awful. You can’t just march off and leave me here.”
    â€œThat’s precisely what I intend to do.”
    â€œListen,” he growled, “I realize I almost committed a terrible blunder, but I wasn’t seein’ too well. If I’d-a had a good look at your face I wouldn’t-a laid a finger on you.”
    â€œYou’re no gentleman, Mr. Danver.”
    â€œThat’s for damned sure, an’ you’re