Kissed; Christian Read Free

sprang to her eyes.
    Damnation.
    There was no need for her to weep, was there? Taken aback by her unexpected reaction, he scowled, not quite able to tear his gaze away from her liquid green eyes; how singularly beautiful they were. As they had been that day so long ago. They’d haunted him then. Bewitched him still.
    He forced his gaze lower, to her full, sensual lips, and concluded that his business with her brother might not be so unpleasant, after all.
    Quite the contrary. She was possibly one of the fairest women he’d ever laid eyes upon. Not beautiful, precisely, though something about her made him feel she was—those eyes... and those lips that seemed made for kissing.
    She was a bold little thing, he decided. The longer she stared the greater her danger of being soundly and ruthlessly kissed. He was tempted.
    Why postpone the inevitable?
    “My lord,” she said softly, demurely, “I shall forever be in your debt!”
    “Really, m’mselle ?” He couldn’t keep himself from baiting her, knowing she couldn’t possibly recognize him and look so damned grateful. “Won’t you tell me just who it is you think I am?”
    She peered up a little anxiously. “Why, Lord... Christian... of course...”
    She sounded so beautifully anxious, so very uncertain, that Christian found himself grinning down at her. “In the flesh,” he confessed, “though how you placed me so quickly after all these years, I shall never know.”
    Why was it he felt suddenly so relieved?
    Pleased, even?
    “How could I ever forget you, my lord?”
    She smiled sweetly, and it pricked at his heart.

Chapter Three

     
    J essie found herself staring unabashedly, regarding Lord Christian’s windblown locks with both fascination and scandalized horror. The truth was that he was not at all the man she recalled. Gone was the genteel boyish quality she remembered, and with it every last pretense of civility.
    Whereas decent men wore dignified headpieces and powder, he wore only his natural dark mane, bound at his nape—and heaven help her, her first impression of the man before her was that he held himself accountable to no one.
    Why had he come?
    It didn’t matter, she told herself.
    The years had changed him much, but all that truly mattered was that he had come to her rescue and she was heartily grateful despite a new tide of misgivings.
    If only he would stop staring at her so...
    “I-I was reading,” she blurted, unsettled by his mercurial eyes.
    “Were you?” The tiniest smile curved his lips. “You certainly appear to be reading,” he said sarcastically, and gazed down pointedly at her bare feet. “Perchance you have a book beneath those pretty little toes of yours?”
    Jessie’s gaze fell to her bare feet.
    Good Lord, she was a ninny hammer!
    Mortification squeezed the breath from her lungs. “Nay, my lord!” she said, her gaze flying back to his. “It’s just that, you see... well, I-I left the book upon the bank!”
    She fanned herself unconsciously. “It was rather hot, you see!”
    Lord, but it was uncomfortably warm of a sudden. Feeling more than a little foolish, she turned at once and began to make her way out of the brook. “I should go!” she declared.
    “Not on my account, I hope.”
    Jessie didn’t stop, couldn’t find the courage to do so; mortified, she continued instead toward the bank.
    “I must confess, I was rather enjoying the sight of your revelry,” he said behind her, and Jessie’s stomach lurched.
    She halted abruptly, turning to peer up at him, a little chafed by his confession.
    Lord, just how long had he stood watching before making his presence known?
    She reminded herself that she needed him and couldn’t afford to offend him. “I must have been woolgathering,” she said, unable to keep the censure from her tone. “I never even heard you approach, my lord.”
    His blue eyes glinted silver and the silence between them lengthened as Jessie scrutinized him.
    He wore a midnight blue riding