The Earl's Secret Read Free Page A

the back of her neck. She could still feel the pressure of his lips against her fingertips. Damn the man.
    Yes, he was arrogant. Yes, he was too good-looking and rich for his own good or the sanity of any woman who crossed his path. But thanks to him, no one in her party seemed to realize she’d gotten lost on her way from London to Edinburgh, and intruded on a real earl and his home. For that she was indebted to him.
    How could it have happened? She never got lost! By the time she led a tour, she had done her homework—charted her routes in detail and double checked them, memorized her lectures on the art, architecture and history for each stop.
    She was vexed with herself, so much so that she didn’t blame him for tricking her. Admittedly he had taken advantage of her mistake and flirted with her outrageously, but he had also provided a way for herto save face. She really ought to do something nice for him in return. Maybe send a thank-you note…or rip up at least one copy of that horrid tabloid that had written embarrassing things about him.
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    Throughout the afternoon in Edinburgh, Jennifer thought about Christopher, even though she tried her very best not to. His dizzying blue eyes flashed repeatedly in her mind; his expressive mouth and sexy British accent whispered to her as they toured the ruins of Hollyrood Abbey and the adjoining park. She remembered how his dark hair had fallen in a boyish wave across one corner of his forehead, and how his eyes twinkled, sharing the joke with her when he realized she had found him out.
    Then there was that fingertip-kissing business. Had the seductive tingles racing up her arm been unintended? Probably. Christopher was a man accustomed to—and obviously very good at—arousing such feelings in women. But he no doubt had gone through the motions automatically. She could picture him bussing the plump hand of an octogenarian duchess, then turning unconcernedly away as she swooned. All in a day’s work for a handsome earl, what?
    Although Jennifer’s head told her the feelings he’d left her to sort out meant nothing, her heart wouldn’t cooperate. Now is the worst time to complicate your life, she told herself.
    She had to protect her own and her mother’s financial security. That was her first priority, and it meant working long hours to pay off the last of the debts her father had dumped on them before her mother finally divorced the rogue. It would be nice to have a man in her life, yes. But none she’d ever met couldguarantee her the security she needed. And she’d be damned if she let one come between her and the financial well-being she needed!
    Jennifer thought about her father, then about Christopher. The only type of male worse than a womanizer with a penchant for gambling was a playboy who threw money away on extravagant clothes, cars and parties for his friends. And he lived on another continent! Imagine the weeks of separation, wondering if he was spending his last pound or sleeping with another woman while they were apart. Even if he was faithful to her, imagine the money wasted on long-distance calls and airfare.
    Getting hung up on someone as sexy and charming as the earl of Winchester—who lived in an honest-to-goodness castle, raced the length of polo fields astride wild-eyed ponies and made women weak-kneed at the touch of his lips…that would be the worst mistake of her life.
    Stop it! Jennifer ordered herself as she shakily gripped the iron rail outside the bleak stone walls of Hollyrood. Why on earth was she thinking like this? She had spent exactly ninety minutes in the company of Christopher Smythe. She knew next to nothing about the man, and here she was daydreaming an already-doomed relationship with him! She must be losing her mind.
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    At the end of the day, Jennifer made sure that everyone in her charge was well fed and settled into their respective rooms at the stately Caledonia on Princes