Touch Me Read Free Page A

discovered she’d retired from the life of being a mistress a year ago when Ridgemoor had ended their arrangement. That news had led Simon to assume she’d aged and lost her beauty. Between that and the fact that the earl was over fifty and she’d been his mistress for a decade, he’d envisioned a woman in her forties, at the least. But this woman didn’t appear much older than thirty, if she was that.
    And she certainly hadn’t lost her looks. The woman standing before him in the halo of golden lamplight was nothing short of stunning. The combination of high cheekbones and full lips lent her an exotic yet delicate beauty. He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were, but given her porcelain skin and upswept honey-blond hair, he’d wager blue. He found himself wondering if they’d more resemble a cloudless summer sky or a stormy sea. Or perhaps a shard of ice.
    All thoughts of ice vanished in the next instant when she unfastened her cloak. The garment slid from her shoulders to reveal that she wore only a chemise. A wet chemise. A wet chemise that clung to her body as if it had been painted on her skin—with transparent paint.
    Simon’s breath halted, and for several seconds he completely forget where he was. Who she was. And how much was at stake. His conscience—an inner voice he’d bludgeoned into silence long ago—unexpectedly coughed to life and informed him that honor and decency demanded he avert his gaze. He immediatelyconsigned his conscience back to the depths from where it had crawled and kept his eyeballs steadfastly trained on the vision before him. After all, she was a person of suspicion. For reasons he’d yet to discover, she’d taken what he’d come to steal before he could rob her of it—the letter that would save his life. It was imperative he learn all he could about her.
    And God knows he was learning plenty, given the way that wet material clung to her. His gaze roamed slowly downward, lingering over her firm, full breasts topped with erect nipples. The curve of her waist flared to generous hips then tapered to shapely thighs. The curls between her legs were the same golden honey shade as her hair.
    Clearly Mrs. Ralston had indulged in a dip in the hot springs. It was well documented that taking the waters was good for the body, and she absolutely was testament to that.
    She moistened her lips and his gaze was drawn to her mouth. He squinted through the shadows. Were her lips naturally so plush or were they kiss-swollen? Had someone joined her at the hot springs? Did Mrs. Ralston have a lover? Perhaps the artist from the neighboring cottage? Or an accomplice who’d helped her murder Ridgemoor? Surely a woman who looked like her wouldn’t lack for male companionship. An unexpected mental image flickered through his mind…Mrs. Ralston, standing in the gently bubbling water…and himself, joining her—
    “Meow.”
    The sound cut off Simon’s unsettling fantasy and his gaze jerked downward. Sophia slid into the shadows and once again twined herself around his boots. Bloody hell. Clearly the cat possessed the same unfortunatehabit as her owner—turning up in places she wasn’t wanted. And wasn’t that just like a female? Give one the smallest amount of attention then they kept pestering you for more.
    He looked up and stifled a groan. With her cloak folded over her arm, Mrs. Ralston moved toward him. His breath halted—partly due to the great risk of discovery and partly because the sight of her rendered his lungs incapable of functioning. He’d seen many alluring sights in his life, but he’d be hard-pressed to name any that could compare to the sight of a wet, nearly naked Genevieve Ralston.
    And speaking of hard…his gaze flicked down to the erection straining against his snug breeches. How bloody delightful. It was humiliating enough that he might very well be discovered. To be found in such a condition was completely unacceptable. He tried to will away his arousal, but with