1939912059 (R) by Delilah Marvelle Read Free Book Online

coat.
    That was certainly him asking for an apple. She paused. There were two leather satchels attached to his saddle. One appeared to be stuffed with stacks of parchment that peered out beneath a tightly fastened flap. The other was well-packed with clothing and several frayed wool blankets that had traces of hay as if he had been sleeping in the fields.
    He wasn’t hiding his wealth. He had no wealth.
    Which would explain why he still hadn’t paid her.
    She sighed. Plucking up an apple out of her basket, she held it out. “Here. Go on.”
    His gaze veered to the apple. “Pardon?”
    She closed the distance between them and held it out. “You practically invited yourself into eating it. Take it. They are a bit tart, but still surprisingly good.”
    He widened his stance. “I thank you, dearest, but no. Those are yours.”
    “Oh, cease with your high and mighty business already. I can see the hay clinging to your blanket. You were sleeping in a field just like me. Which means you are not as well-heeled as you tout yourself to be and are probably hungry. Here. The apples were free and came out of the orchard I was passing through earlier. You would hardly be imposing. Go on.”
    He hesitated but still did not take it.
    She sighed. Wedging herself closer, she was about to shove it into his hand, but noted his gloves were crusted with dry mud.
    So she did the one thing she could. The one thing she always did for her brothers. She brought out her paring knife and balancing the basket on the crook of her elbow, sliced off a piece of the fruit. Tucking the small knife away, she leaned in and daintily reaching up, set it against his lips, wiggling it. “Eat, Gérard . Consider it payment for my ride into Paris.”
    He met her gaze for a long moment, his broad chest visibly rising and falling. “Thank you.” Bending his dark head, he opened his full lips and ever so slowly dragged the sliced apple into his mouth. He leaned in more to take the whole thing into his mouth.
    His teeth and hot tongue grazed the tips of her fingers.
    Her pulse roared as her skin tingled from the unexpected contact. She jerked her hand away. Taking several steps back, she swiped her wet fingers against her skirt, trying to rid herself of the tingling she still felt. “You almost ate my finger.”
    The muscles in his jaw showcased each methodical chew as he continued to heatedly hold her gaze. “It was in the way.” His blue eyes now held a spark of some indefinable emotion. One full of so many secrets he wasn’t telling.
    Swallowing, he said in a low, husky tone, “Bring the apple back over. I would like more.”
    He wasn’t looking to eat apples anymore. She tried to remain calm and held out the apple, keeping her distance. “Here. Take the whole thing.”
    “I would but my gloves are a bit dirty.” He held them up.
    It appeared the bite of an apple had turned this one into a full-fledged rake. “Then I suggest you remove your gloves.”
    He lowered his hands and flexed them, flaking mud off the leather. “Do you think it wise to ask me to remove more clothing?”
    She eyed him. Something in his demeanor had changed. And she didn’t understand why. “No more slices for you. You are making a game of this.”
    Brushing off the remaining dirt from his gloves, he slowly closed the distance between them. “Maybe I am.” He edged in until they were almost nose to nose. The scent of amberwood, spice and leather tinged the air. “Are you too scared to play along? I thought you were a butcher’s daughter capable of cleaving your way through anything.”
    He was too close and was beginning to play the sort of games she was used to. The ones where men tried to sidle up close and touch her.
    Scrambling back, her bare ankle rolled against a large branch lying on the path behind her. She winced, stumbled and gasped as the basket tipped and fell to the ground, thudding apples and the items within everywhere.
    He jumped and grabbed her waist hard