Seduction Read Free Page B

the trees. Here and there small crusts of ice dotted the surface of the deep pool. There was little snow left on the ground but the chill of winter was still very much in the air. Sophy shivered and Dancer nickered inquiringly.
    Sophy leaned forward to pat the horse's neck reassuringly but her hand froze abruptly in midair. An icy breeze rustled the branches overhead. Sophy shivered again, but this time she knew it was not the chill of the early spring afternoon that was affecting her. She straightened in the saddle as she caught sight of the man on the midnight black stallion coming toward her through a grove of bare trees. Her pulse quickened as it always did in Ravenwood's presence.
    Belatedly Sophy told herself she ought to have immediately recognized the little frisson of awareness that had gone through her a moment earlier. After all, a part of her had been in love with this man since she was eighteen.
    That was the year she had first been introduced to the
    Earl of Ravenwood. He, of course, probably did not even remember the occasion. He'd had eyes only for his beautiful, mesmerizing, witchy Elizabeth.
    Sophy knew that her initial feelings for the wealthy Earl of Ravenwood had no doubt begun as little more than a young woman's natural infatuation with the first man who had captured her imagination. But that infatuation had not died a natural death, not even when she had accepted the obvious fact that she stood no chance of gaining his attention. Over the years infatuation had matured into something deeper and more abiding.
    Sophy had been drawn to the quiet power and the innate pride and integrity she sensed in Ravenwood. In the realm of her most secret dreams she thought of him as noble in a way that had nothing to do with his inherited title.
    When the dazzling Elizabeth had succeeded in turning the fascination Ravenwood felt for her into raw pain and savage rage, Sophy had wanted to offer comfort and understanding. But the Earl had been beyond either. He had sought his solace for a time on the Continent waging war under Wellington.
    When he had returned, it was obvious that the Earl's emotions had long since retreated to a cold, distant place somewhere inside himself. Now any passion or warmth Ravenwood was capable of feeling appeared to be reserved for his land.
    The black suited him well, Sophy decided. She had heard the stallion was called Angel, and she found herself marveling at Ravenwood's sense of irony.
    Angel was a creature of darkness meant for a man who lived in shadows. The man who rode him seemed almost a part of the animal. Ravenwood was lean and powerfully built. He was endowed with unfashionably large, strong hands, hands that could easily have strangled an errant wife, just as the villagers said, Sophy reflected briefly.
    He needed no padding in his coat to emphasize the breadth of his shoulders. The snug-fitting riding breeches clung to well-shaped, strongly muscled thighs.
    But although he wore his clothes well, Sophy knew there was nothing the finest tailor in London could have done to alleviate the uncompromising grimness of Ravenwood's harsh features.
    His hair was as black as his stallion's silky coat and his eyes were a deep, gleaming green, a
demon
green, Sophy had sometimes thought. It was said the Earls of Ravenwood were always born with eyes to match the family emeralds.
    Sophy found Ravenwood's gaze disconcerting not only because of the color of his eyes but because he had a way of looking at a person as if he were mentally putting a price on that poor unfortunate's soul. Sophy wondered what his lordship would do when he learned her price.
    She reined in Dancer, pushed the plume of her riding hat out of her eyes and summoned up what she hoped was a serenely gracious smile.
    "Good afternoon, my lord. What a surprise to encounter you in the middle of the woods."
    The black stallion was brought to a shuddering halt a few feet away. Ravenwood sat quietly for a moment, regarding Sophy's polite