Read Online Rules of Attraction by Christina Dodd - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christina Dodd
Ads: Link
Distinguished Academy of Governesses and the businesswoman who had guided the school to success!
Enough of being afraid. She wasn't afraid of anyone. Certainly not a man, a coward! who stalked her, who threatened to make her perform her marital duties unwillingly, who found joy in intimidating her.
"I didn't dream about you at all." Striding over to him, she stood over the top of him and looked down at him. Tilting his head up, he looked back.
Handsome? No, not any longer, but intense, burning with… with some emotion. Ardor, maybe. Hatred, perhaps. She would probably never know. The passions that lived in him were now disciplined, allowed out only on a short tether.
Masculine? Yes, shadow and candlelight sculpted his features, leaving no kindness, no tenderness, no soft curve… except for his mouth. That mouth… the lips were buttery-soft, plush and downy, especially when they kissed her neck, her breast, her thigh.
Tall? Yes, but she was, too. When they married, they stood together in the reception line and people had told them how well they looked together. A few indiscreet and rather tipsy gentlemen had brayed about how they would make beautiful children together.
They hadn't; she had quite consciously left before a child tied her to the man who had manipulated her. Disappointed her. No, during the long years alone she wisely never imagined anything about him. She didn't like the weeping that would inevitably follow.
Yes, this was Dougald, and she would not be afraid of him. Wedging her knee on the seat between his thigh and the chair arm, she asked, "If you don't want me to be your wife, why did you bring me here?"
He observed her as he would observe a cat he had vexed— with caution, yet without worry. For how much damage can one little cat cause?
His mistake. She was strong. She could taunt and threaten and intimidate, too. Better, she could make him want her, and she could take command.
"I want you," he answered. "To care for my aunt."
"You could hired a local woman." Placing her hand on his shoulder, she leaned closer to him and had the great joy of feeling him draw back slightly. Her aggressive rush had at least puzzled him. "You went to a great deal of trouble to get me."
"Perhaps I've grown parsimonious in my old age. After all, I don't have to pay my wife."
His breath brushed her face, the heat of his body burned through his waistcoat. His hands rested on the arms of the chair, seemingly at rest, apparently uninterested in lifting toward the body so close above his own.
"Slave labor," she accused.
"Almost as good," he said. "The loving labor of a spouse."
Sarcastic creature! But she didn't fear to confront him. "Or perhaps you have some other plan…?"
"Anything is possible." He sounded vaguely bored. "But what is definite is that you're going to stay, and you're going to work, and you're not going to know my plans until I want you to."
"Maybe." She leaned all the way down, close enough to look right into his eyes, close enough that their lips almost kissed. "Maybe not."
Then she closed the gap— and kissed him.
She tasted the surprise on his lips. Good! Good. She'd taken the smug swine unawares with her sudden move.
Taken herself unawares, too…
Her eyelids fluttered closed.
His lips were the same. Smooth, wide, sensual. As a young girl, she spent hours exploring his lips, trying to identify why his kisses so enchanted her. She had never succeeded, and now as she rested her lips on his, then slanted her head to fit them closer together, she wondered if she should actually taste him. Open her lips over his, invite him inside, and if he resisted, she would take the initiative, go deep into the wine-scented cavern and show him just how much his wife she really was….
No, she shouldn't. That would lead them places she didn't want to go. Instead she would keep it light, remember the impulse that had led her here and understand she strove to take the upper hand.
She would ignore her own
Enough of being afraid. She wasn't afraid of anyone. Certainly not a man, a coward! who stalked her, who threatened to make her perform her marital duties unwillingly, who found joy in intimidating her.
"I didn't dream about you at all." Striding over to him, she stood over the top of him and looked down at him. Tilting his head up, he looked back.
Handsome? No, not any longer, but intense, burning with… with some emotion. Ardor, maybe. Hatred, perhaps. She would probably never know. The passions that lived in him were now disciplined, allowed out only on a short tether.
Masculine? Yes, shadow and candlelight sculpted his features, leaving no kindness, no tenderness, no soft curve… except for his mouth. That mouth… the lips were buttery-soft, plush and downy, especially when they kissed her neck, her breast, her thigh.
Tall? Yes, but she was, too. When they married, they stood together in the reception line and people had told them how well they looked together. A few indiscreet and rather tipsy gentlemen had brayed about how they would make beautiful children together.
They hadn't; she had quite consciously left before a child tied her to the man who had manipulated her. Disappointed her. No, during the long years alone she wisely never imagined anything about him. She didn't like the weeping that would inevitably follow.
Yes, this was Dougald, and she would not be afraid of him. Wedging her knee on the seat between his thigh and the chair arm, she asked, "If you don't want me to be your wife, why did you bring me here?"
He observed her as he would observe a cat he had vexed— with caution, yet without worry. For how much damage can one little cat cause?
His mistake. She was strong. She could taunt and threaten and intimidate, too. Better, she could make him want her, and she could take command.
"I want you," he answered. "To care for my aunt."
"You could hired a local woman." Placing her hand on his shoulder, she leaned closer to him and had the great joy of feeling him draw back slightly. Her aggressive rush had at least puzzled him. "You went to a great deal of trouble to get me."
"Perhaps I've grown parsimonious in my old age. After all, I don't have to pay my wife."
His breath brushed her face, the heat of his body burned through his waistcoat. His hands rested on the arms of the chair, seemingly at rest, apparently uninterested in lifting toward the body so close above his own.
"Slave labor," she accused.
"Almost as good," he said. "The loving labor of a spouse."
Sarcastic creature! But she didn't fear to confront him. "Or perhaps you have some other plan…?"
"Anything is possible." He sounded vaguely bored. "But what is definite is that you're going to stay, and you're going to work, and you're not going to know my plans until I want you to."
"Maybe." She leaned all the way down, close enough to look right into his eyes, close enough that their lips almost kissed. "Maybe not."
Then she closed the gap— and kissed him.
She tasted the surprise on his lips. Good! Good. She'd taken the smug swine unawares with her sudden move.
Taken herself unawares, too…
Her eyelids fluttered closed.
His lips were the same. Smooth, wide, sensual. As a young girl, she spent hours exploring his lips, trying to identify why his kisses so enchanted her. She had never succeeded, and now as she rested her lips on his, then slanted her head to fit them closer together, she wondered if she should actually taste him. Open her lips over his, invite him inside, and if he resisted, she would take the initiative, go deep into the wine-scented cavern and show him just how much his wife she really was….
No, she shouldn't. That would lead them places she didn't want to go. Instead she would keep it light, remember the impulse that had led her here and understand she strove to take the upper hand.
She would ignore her own
Similar Books
