Read Online Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls by Jessica Woodard - Free Book Online Page B

thoughts. Fain clutched his chair to keep himself immobile. Suddenly he was thinking of all kinds of friendly overtures, all of which would invariably end with the two of them in his bed. That is, assuming she didn’t slap him in the face. Either way he was not going to touch her. He was going to stay right here, and stare like an idiot at her perfect face and magnificent legs, until he could think of something to say that would make her angry. Angry was irritating, but flirtatious was going to drive him mad.
    Somehow he managed to answer her. “They could be better, lass.” He was telling the literal truth—after all, her legs weren’t wrapped around his hips, and that would definitely be better—but his tone implied a lie. It worked, though. Her eyes narrowed and she retreated to the bed in a huff. She pouted a moment or two, and then sighed and gave him a direct gaze.
    “Again, I apologize. I’m not used to… to having the freedom to behave that way. It’s making me giddy. Usually my behavior is being constantly scrutinized. I… I will try to behave like a lady.”
    He responded without thinking. “I highly doubt that’s possible.”
    Her eyes went wide for just a moment, and then narrowed as she whipped her hand to his pillows, grabbed one, and lobbed it at his face with astonishing accuracy. He was so surprised that he just sat there as the fluffy white pillow plowed into his nose. When his vision cleared, she was smiling at him sweetly.
    “I’ve found a well-thrown pillow is an appropriate rebuttal for many impertinent remarks.”
    Fain blinked at her. Then he let out a bark of laughter. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    They both sat there a moment, and then the beauty gave him a hesitant smile. “Master MacTíre—”
    “You can call me Fain, Miss Wellesley.” The moment he said it he cursed himself. He shouldn’t be encouraging her to be familiar with him, but she gave him a radiant smile in return, and he couldn’t bring himself to take it back.
    “Then you must call me Isabelle.”
    “It doesn’t suit you. I don’t suppose you’d tell me your real name?” He put every ounce of wheedling he possessed into his voice, but she just sighed and looked at him with sad eyes.
    “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to just believe me, and let it go?”
    That was interesting. She hadn’t denied that she was lying to him. Fain wondered if she had done it on purpose, or was even aware of what her request could imply. He decided not to call attention to it, just yet. When she was angry the only thing he’d learned was her vast capacity for insults. Maybe he’d learn more by being friendly, so when he spoke, he kept it light and teasing.
    “Well, I have to call you something. A nickname, perhaps?”
    “Max liked to shorten my name, but my father said it was vulgar.”
    “Any other names you’re partial to?”
    “I always liked Gloriana, but Max says that makes him think of angels, and I am far too devilish for such a name.” She flashed her wicked smile at him again, and Fain was forced to agree.
    “I guess that also means Angelica’s out.”
    “Quite.” She spoke primly, but her eyes sparkled. “I also think you should skip anything that means “kind natured” or “biddable” or “sweet” or anything like that. I could never live up to it.”
    “I could call you “Imp”. That would suit admirably.”
    She stuck her tongue out. “Blech. Imps are supposed to be malformed, nasty little creatures. I suppose my temper is occasionally nasty, but you can hardly say I’m malformed.”
    “No, indeed. Except for your legs. They’re awful.”
    He kept his face deadpan, and watched her reaction. Her mouth dropped open, and then she snapped it shut and narrowed her eyes. “Could I have my pillow back, please?”
    “I don’t think so, Belle. You hardly need any more ammunition.”
    “Belle?”
    “Well, it isn’t as though your father is here to object to the vulgarity. You don’t