Her Highness, My Wife Read Free

family,” she said in the firm manner of a governess, contradicting everything he knew of her. “It is something of a scholarly endeavor, and—”
    “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t believe you for a moment.” He laughed.
    “You’re not the type of woman who could ever be interested in anything scholarly. Frivolous or meaningless, perhaps, but never intellectual.”
    “Frivolous? Meaningless?” Indignation snapped in her eyes and she stepped toward him. “I will have you know I was an excellent student as a girl. My tutors could not praise me enough. I speak six languages. I am not only familiar with the works of Aristotle and Descartes, but I understand them. I can list the names and major accomplishments, in order, of the emperors ofRome. I am well versed in Shakespeare and know complete scenes from a good number of his plays by heart.”
    She moved closer, too absorbed by her defense of her intelligence to notice she was now a scant foot away from him. But he did notice.
    “I can recite the names and dates of rule of every monarch for the last five hundred years of every significant power inEurope, including your own country.”
    Near enough for him to reach out and—
    “I know, and comprehend, the underlying reasons, as well as the obvious causes, for the major conflicts and wars among the nations of the world, including the complaints of those clever Americans who were
    intelligent enough to tell your barbaric country precisely where it could put its taxes and its tea!”
    She stared up at him. Fire shot from her eyes. Passion shadowed every line of her body. Her blond hair moved in silken emphasis with every bob of her head. She was fervent and fascinating and abruptly he realized he’d lied to himself. For fifteen months, three weeks and four days he’d told himself he wanted nothing more to do with her. He’d sworn he didn’t care, perhaps he’d never cared. He’d promised himself, if he ever saw her again, he would treat her with the disdain she deserved. Now he realized he wanted her as much today as he had a year ago. Nothing had changed that. Not her leaving. Not his broken heart. Not even his pride.
    “And furthermore…” She glared up at him. He was a good half foot taller than she. He straightened, the movement bringing his body to within inches of hers. She was too caught up in her tirade to note their close proximity. Her scent, a subtle blend of exotic flowers and vague hints of foreign spice, wafted around him, and his stomach twisted with memory and desire.
    “I well understand the flammable properties of hydrogen, as well as the basic principles of lighter-than-air flight. And I know most of the learned men in your field consider balloons filled with hot air to be considerably more dangerous than those filled with hydrogen because of the constant threat of fire to the balloon itself.”
    “Aerostat,” he said absently, gazing into her green eyes and remembering how they’d darken in the throes of passion.
    “What?” She shook her head with confusion.
    “Aerostat. Remember?” His gaze dropped to her lips. Full and ripe and lush. He hadn’t forgotten the feel of those sweet lips against his. He drew a deep breath and met her gaze.
    “We call them aerostats, not balloons.”
    “Yes, of course. And I knew that too.” She stared up at him, eyes wide with… what? Apprehension?
    Desire?
    Heat flashed between them. His gaze locked on hers and he struggled to breathe. To remember to breathe. “And those of us who fly them are aeronauts.”
    “Indeed. I knew that as well.” She swallowed hard.
    Without thinking, he lowered his head. Her chin rose. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. It was as if he were guided by an unseen hand. Of fate or destiny. Or, more likely, desire. Demanding and undeniable. His mouth moved closer to hers, even as he acknowledged kissing her, wanting her was entirely different than loving her. Loving her was a mistake that,