Far Too Tempted Read Free Page A

convenient brilliant full moon to aid her.
    Three sets of French doors spilled light onto the flagstones of the magnificent garden terrace. Crouched by a withered rhododendron, she peered at the swirling dancers inside, their colorful clothing making a melee of brightness behind the glass. She caught a glimpse of her brother, elegant and smiling at some woman he held by the hand, unmistakable with his russet hair and good-looking features.
    But she could care less about who danced with Robert. She was looking for a tall, strikingly handsome man with blond hair and an air of reckless charm. She did care who Alex chose for a partner.
    Damn him, she thought vehemently, and took secretive and gleeful pleasure in the unladylike sentiment, even if it was just in her head.
    He was leaving tomorrow. Robert had confirmed it.
    Her breathing quickened as she saw a couple go by the glass in a graceful sweep, a lovely red-haired woman whose partner was very tall and fair. Marcus, the Duke of Grayston, she realized in disappointment, dancing with his wife, Ariel. The two brothers looked very much alike but there was no mistaking Lady Ariel’s vivid coloring.
    It was chilly.
    She shifted positions several times, easing her cold, cramped muscles. An owl called occasionally from some distant tree, the lonely sound mingling oddly with the music to emphasize her outcast state. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she’d been too upset to eat her dinner. Inside, everyone was warm—there was food, there was lovely music and champagne and dancing.
    On the other hand, she was hungry, cold and crouched behind some bush.
    All because she was fifteen.
    Minutes ticked by and she still did not see Alex.
    Either he wasn’t there, or he wasn’t dancing. Her throat tightened. Surely he could not have ridden off already, could he? This party was supposed to be a farewell gesture. He certainly wouldn’t miss it.
    Eventually she couldn’t take her hunched position any longer and snuck away, feeling relief when she was far enough from the festivities to straighten her aching back. Walking listlessly down one of the shadowed garden paths, Jessica couldn’t help but reflect that this was the second time she’d made a complete fool out of herself in one day. She might only be fifteen but she was old enough that spying from the bushes was fairly undignified.
    She had just wanted to see him one last time.
    A throaty giggle came through the darkness, making her stiffen. The garden gazebo lay at the end of the path she’d chosen, a frivolous concoction of gothic swirls, lattice, and marble. It was right in front of her, just a few feet away, and apparently it was occupied. In her distraction, she hadn’t noticed.
    She certainly noticed now.
    Jessica went rigid, staring against her will.
    A woman lay half-naked across the cushioned window seat, moonlight pouring like silver gilt over her bared skin. She whispered, touching her lover’s hair, her full breasts white and plump in the filtered light, her bodice gaping open. The man bent over her, his hands touching and caressing her bare skin, cupping and holding the pliant exposed flesh.
    Alex.
    There was no mistaking the dark gold of his hair, or the width of his shoulders.
    Jessica must have made some sound, a gasp of horror escaping her lips perhaps, for he immediately lifted his head and turned to look straight at her. For a brief moment, their gazes locked.
    With a low curse, he jumped to his feet.
    She turned and blindly ran, stumbling down the garden path in her mindless flight.
    “Jess!”
    The warmth of tears trickled down her face as she flew into the darkness. Her feet pounded down the path in unison with her heartbeat. She felt as if she was whirling into a world that disintegrated with each flying step.
     
     
    Robert Roweland lifted a brow. “Jessica says she doesn’t want to see you. What’s that all about? I thought you were her damned hero. She’s adored you since she was toddling