Falling For His Proper Mistress Read Free Page A

he barely knew could read him like a book? He pressed his lips together and glanced away without responding, discomforted by the sudden flush that heated his face.
    â€œWho is she?”
    â€œNobody,” Guy bit out.
    Erica blinked. “Hey, I only wanted to help. You looked…unhappy.”
    Unhappy? Not at all. Instantly Guy forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
    She didn’t look convinced.
    â€œTruly, I am.”
    â€œOkay, I’ll butt out.” A smile softened the words.
    His own smile widened into a relieved grin. “Thanks.”
    The lines of strain around her eyes eased, and a wave of remorse flooded him. It was time to cut Erica some slack. She’d done a damn fine job with the festival so far. Yet before he could offer an olive branch he caught sight of Avery and her companion heading for the exit. The tension that had been winding tighter ratcheted up another notch.
    She wasn’t ending up in the other man’s bed tonight. Not under his nose, on his turf.
    A well-known food writer stepped forward to greet Avery’s companion, causing him to pause. Guy made his move.
    â€œExcuse me,” he murmured to Erica, before rapidly shouldering his way through the throng, unaware that his half sister watched him go, a bemused look on her face. His sole focus was on Avery.
    â€œI want to speak to you.” He cut Avery away from her partner as neatly as a wrangler.
    â€œGuy! What are you doing?”
    Placing his arm around her, he bent his head toward her. To an onlooker it would have appeared intimate. Even cozy. But his growled warning was anything but lover-like. “Now’s not the time for a scene, Avery.”
    â€œScene? I’m not making a scene—you are,” she objected, her voice rising as he swept her along with him. “Let go of me.”
    He leaned closer still—and instantly her sweetly sexy floral scent surrounded him. Savagely fighting the sudden blast of raw desire, Guy lowered his voice and murmured into her ear, “Hush. I have no intention of kidnapping you.”

Two
    A very wasn’t so sure.
    It only took one glance to reveal that there was a determined—even ruthless—set to Guy’s jaw that she didn’t recognize. His arm, heavy and unwelcome, tightened around her waist. She would’ve given anything not to be so spine-tinglingly aware of his proximity as he hurried her away from Matt.
    She’d known this confrontation was coming from the moment he’d realized she was here to speak in Uncle Art’s place. She’d tensed, waiting for the outburst that had never come.
    If she’d realized that her Guy Jarrod was one of the Aspen Jarrods she’d have done whatever she could’ve to avoid coming here. Heck, even though it would’ve meant breaking her word to her uncle, she’d pleaded with Matt this afternoon to take his dad’s spot so that she could catch the first flightout. But Matt had to be back in Napa Valley by tomorrow. And not even her desperate pleas had swayed him.
    As she shot her nemesis a sideways glance, her breath snagged in her throat. From the opposite end of the grand marquee he’d been eye-catching, but up close Guy Jarrod was utterly devastating. His six-foot plus height suited the tailored tuxedo, the broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist, while the white dress shirt only emphasized the masculine perfection of his handsome profile.
    I should hate him…he deserves it.
    To hide the humiliating effect his body had on her, she wrinkled her brow, hoping she looked convincingly puzzled. “What did you want to talk about?”
    Guy clearly wasn’t fooled. His lips firmed into an impatient line as he stopped in the back corner of the marquee beside a table laden with trays of oysters. He turned to face her. “You taking Art’s place.”
    â€œIs it a problem?”
    Of course it was. His reaction earlier had shown that. What she