The Forbidden Innocent Read Free Page A

Christine standing there, with her coat on and a battered shopping bag looped over her arm.
    ‘I’m just off home now,’ she said. ‘And Mr Marchant’s back from the hospital. He’s downstairs in the library and said he’d like to meet you.’
    ‘Is he okay?’ Ashley asked quickly.
    ‘Oh, he’s fine. It’d take a lot more than a tumble from his horse to damage someone like
him.’
    But Ashley felt a fluttery kind of nervousness at the thought of seeing him again and, self-consciously, her hands skimmed down over her sweater and alighted on the waistband of her jeans.
    ‘Maybe I’d better change,’ she said doubtfully.
    ‘Maybe you had,’ said Christine. ‘But better not keep him waiting too long—he doesn’t like to be kept waiting. I’ll see you in a couple of days. Have fun.’
    Fun?
Now why did Ashley get the distinct feeling that there wasn’t going to be much fun involved in this new position?
    After Christine had gone, she put on a plain skirt and a neat blouse, brushed and twisted her long hair into a French plait and then went downstairs to the library. The door was closed and the deeply growled and peremptory command of ‘Come!’ in response to her hesitant tapping almost made her lose her nerve and turn away.
    Pushing open the heavy door, she saw a dark figure standing by the fire with his back to her—a figure she recognised instantly and yet one that seemed even more intimidating than it had done earlier. Was that because the red flames threw his tall figure into a stark silhouette which seemed to dominate the room? Or because his physique was, quite simply, breathtaking?
    Suddenly, she felt insubstantial in the presence of such a remarkable package of masculinity. As if he could dominate her as he dominated the room. It was another unwanted moment of awareness and Ashleyfound herself struggling to make his name pass her dry lips.
    ‘Mr… Marchant?’
    He turned then and the flames illuminated his face—sending shifting shadows across features which were so still that they might have been fashioned from dark marble. He seemed to have a sense of total isolation about him—as if he had cut himself off from the rest of the world—and as Ashley stared at him she saw the brief flicker of something bleak in his eyes. Something like pain. And something like anger. And then it was gone. Instead, his look became coolly assessing as his gaze swept over her, though it was a moment before he spoke.
    ‘So, we meet again.’
    ‘Yes.’
    That same odd smile she’d seen earlier once again curved his sensual lips. ‘My lady rescuer.’
    Ashley shrugged her shoulders awkwardly. ‘I didn’t really do very much to rescue you.’
    ‘No. I suppose you didn’t.’ Jack studied her, remembering her wide eyes and trembling lips. The softness of her touch as she had shaken him. How potent gentleness could be, he thought suddenly. And how long since he had felt its subtle seduction? He flicked the thought away—even though his attention was momentarily distracted by the faint swell of her breasts beneath her sweater. ‘And no doubt you were too stricken by guilt to be of much use in any case,’ he challenged huskily.
    ‘Guilt?’
she echoed defensively, as unwittinglyhe touched a raw nerve. Because hadn’t her life been blighted by false accusations made by those on whom she depended? The foster mothers. The matrons in the care homes. Time after time she had discovered that the disadvantaged were an easy target. And now, as she looked into his hard black eyes, she wondered if here was someone else who would concoct crimes she was supposed to have committed. ‘I wasn’t aware that I’d done something wrong.’
    ‘Don’t you know that it’s inadvisable to startle horses? That they’re as temperamental as women?’ he said. ‘But don’t stand over there by the door looking so nervous. You’d better come in and sit down—I won’t bite! And if we’re to spend the next few months incarcerated