Daisy and the Duke Read Free

shred of guilt for observing her with a pair of expensive, high-powered binoculars. He watched as she stretched out on the ground and closed her eyes. The sight hit him hard in the chest, stealing his breath and making him yearn. He wanted to be there beside her, over her, in her. But the chances of that happening were as remote as finding a leprechaun’s pot of gold.
    Magnified in the lenses, Daisy slept, her hand curled beneath her cheek in innocent relaxation. But the female he was spying upon without compunction was surely no babe in the woods. She had curves in all the right places, and her smooth, creamy skin and full pink lips lured a man into contemplating not only indiscretion, but out-and-out recklessness.
    Before his noble lineage had become a millstone around his neck, he would have been free to follow such an attraction wherever it led. Now, life wasn’t so simple.
    He had told her to come back in an hour. But his patience to be with her again lasted only half that long. Walking around the other side of the hill and to its top was no strain at all. He’d clambered over these acres many times as a boy.
    Though he was not particularly silent in his approach, Daisy never moved. As he neared her, he saw that her lips were parted, and a wispy curl had fallen across her cheek. She had wound the silky strands of her hair into a loose knot at the back of her head, but the windy day had wreaked havoc with her attempt to appear businesslike.
    He knelt beside her and brushed the errant locks off her face, before trailing his fingers down the soft skin of her neck to her arm. “Daisy?
Are you awake?”
    She stirred fretfully, her nose scrunched up in a frown. “I am now.” She sat up, yawning. “What did he say?”
    “Who?”
    She lifted an incredulous eyebrow as if questioning his mental competence. “The duke, of course.”
    His machinations weighed heavily upon his soul, but he wanted, selfishly, to be himself for a bit longer. “He’s away from the house right now. But he’ll be home soon.”
    “Shouldn’t you be working?”
    Her question caught him off guard. “I’ve been up since six o’clock,” he said truthfully. “And I’ll put in a few more hours this afternoon.” Not tending animals, of course, but instead, combing through piles of paper wondering if he would ever find a palatable answer to the impossible Gordian knot that was his duty-filled life.
    Daisy sighed, looking at him with artless supplication. “Do you think you can convince him to see me?”
    Ian sprawled out beside her on the grass, reclining on an elbow. Tugging at her wrist, he coaxed her onto her back so that he was half leaning over her. Daisy’s clear blue eyes were filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. He traced a finger over her bottom lip, aware that he was treading a fine line between personal indulgence and a gentleman’s honor. But he knew from experience that behaving according to his station was often no fun at all.
    He lowered his head slowly, giving her a chance to protest. “I’ll do my best,” he promised, his voice husky. “But in the meantime, I’m going to kiss you.”

Chapter Seven
    Daisy’s breathing slowed, her heart beating loudly in her ears as the English stranger bent to kiss her. She loved that he didn’t ask permission. Modern men were too amenable. This arrogant, boldly masculine man seemed like a throwback to an earlier generation, and it only made her anticipate his kiss more.
    She rubbed her fingertips over his sculpted chin, feeling a slight trace of stubble. “I don’t even know your name.”
    “Is that an observation or a complaint?” His crooked grin reminded her of a pirate.
    He was so close she could smell the warm fragrance of his skin. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
    Now his lips hovered over hers, his breath mingling with her almost-silent whimper of need. “I could, but…do you want reality, or fantasy?
Your choice, Daisy.”
    It would not have