How To Seduce A Pirate (The Hawkins Brothers Series) Read Free Page A

stiffened.
Her heart pumped faster at the sound of that seductive male voice. She would
never forget that voice. She had heard it even in her dreams.
    There was really
nowhere for her to hide, much less run. She was trapped. And she didn’t want to
imagine what awaited her if she confronted that voice—and the man it belonged
to.
    But she couldn’t
stand with her back to him either. The warmth from his body heated her spine,
and she shivered with dread. How had he found her? Would he out her at the
ball? In front of the ton? On her sister’s important night? Heavens! Could she
prevent another scandal in any way?
    Wait! She was
imagining the worst possible scenario. Perhaps he didn’t recognize her? Perhaps
he just wanted to dance with an eligible lady? He had been asleep and drowsy
with opium on the night she’d first met him. How much could he truly remember
about her?
    But what was he
doing at the ball? Was he gentry? No. No. She’d made inquiries into his
mysterious identity. He was not a lord, she was sure. And yet . . .
    Her mind swirled
with a thousand thoughts. It was time to learn the truth.
    Hand shaking, she
set down the iced water, hauled in a deep breath, then turned with a polite
smile.
    Her heart
slammed against her chest as a pair of livid blue eyes penetrated her soul. Heavens,
his eyes. The bluest blue. She had never seen him in full light and hadn’t
realized just how black his wavy hair was or how finely sculpted his features
were without the trace of a beard. And tall. Ever so tall. With the same wide,
muscular shoulders any artist would beg to study—or any lover would beg to
touch.
    Holly sensed her
temperature rising, her throat growing parch. Strangely, the brilliant light
from the ballroom detracted from his bewitching physique. He was still as
sinfully handsome as she remembered—even when steaming mad—but he was a man to
be admired under candlelight, in the shadows, in the time between dusk and
dawn.
    “I don’t believe
we’ve met,” she said, voice strangled. She lifted her gloved hand for a
customary buss on the knuckles. “The Honorable Miss Holly Turner.”
    His touch was
both tender and strong, and she felt an involuntary spasm in her belly—and heard
warning bells in her ears.
    “I believe we’ve
met before, Miss Turner.”
    At his husky
voice, she shuddered. The man still possessed the same disarming affect on her
with his low timbre. And when his sensuous lips caressed her hand, scorching
her flesh right through the satin fabric, unbidden pleasure skittered down her
spine.
    “In fact,” he
whispered in a throaty vein, “I believe we know each other very well.”
    Holly’s heart
pounded ever harder. How much could she deflect as nonsense, the misconceptions
of a half asleep, intoxicated man?
    He murmured,
“Intimately well.”
    A heady memory
welled to the forefront of her thoughts—a naked man towering above her. So
strong. So virile. So erect.
    She was
blushing, she knew. She couldn’t restrain her body’s response to his both
charismatic and dangerous presence. Worse, curious eyes were turning toward
them. Why? Was it really so unthinkable Holly might attract a suitor? She might
be a spinster, but she was only five-and-twenty, hardly an old maid. And no one
knew her identity as Lord H. Or that she had painted the stranger in front of
her. So why all the nosy stares? 
    Holly could feel
an anxious pressure on her throat. She mustered her bravado. She had to protect
her sister. She had to disentangle herself from the Adonis before gossip
spread. “I’m afraid you are mistaken, sir.”
    She tried to
pull her hand away. His grip tightened.
    “I think not,
sweet.”
    Oh, no! He had
called her that on the night they’d first met. He did remember the details
of their brief encounter. How many, though?
    “Shall we
dance?”
    Flustered, she
croaked, “I’m not inclined to dance.”
    “A shame.”
    He escorted her
onto the dance floor, maintaining an unbreakable