Beauty's Beast by Amanda Ashley Read Free Book Online Page A

as the sound of Dominique’s last anguished cry rang down the corridors of his mind.
    Shaking the memory away, he wheeled the stallion around and rode back the way he had come. Rounding a stand of timber, he saw Misty trotting toward him, head lifted high to avoid stepping on the dangling reins.
    Catching up the mare, Trevayne urged his horse into a gallop, a sudden sense of unease knifing through him.
    He reined the stallion to a halt, his heart pounding with trepidation when he saw Kristine sprawled facedown on the dew-damp grass. Vaulting from the saddle, Trevayne knelt beside her, his gloved hands skimming over her arms and legs, along her back and neck. Satisfied that there were no broken bones, he removed her bonnet and examined the back of her head. Anger flared within him as he ran his fingertips over the short frizziness of her hair. Then, as carefully as he could, he turned her over, cradling her in his lap.
    â€œKristine?”
    Her eyelids fluttered open at the sound of his voice.
    â€œKristine?”
    She blinked at him. “My lord.”
    â€œAre you hurt?”
    â€œI don’t think so. What happened?”
    â€œIt seems you took a fall. What are you doing out here? Who gave you permission to ride?”
    â€œNo one gave me permission,” she admitted, not quite meeting his eyes.
    â€œWhat are you doing out here?” he asked again.
    Should she tell him the truth? Would he be angry? What was he thinking? The mask hid most of his features. Leather riding gloves covered his hands. He wore a shirt of finely woven gray wool beneath a black broadcloth coat; black riding breeches were tucked into expensive black boots.
    â€œAnswer me.”
    Something warned her not to lie to him. “I was following you.”
    â€œFollowing me?” Surprise flickered in his eyes. “Why?”
    â€œBecause I . . . that is . . .” Her gaze slid away from his. “I was curious, my lord.”
    â€œCurious?”
    â€œAbout where you go. I never see you except . . .” She took a deep breath, disconcerted by his unwavering gaze. “I never see you during the day.” Or in the night . The unspoken accusation hovered between them.
    He muttered something under his breath, then eased her from his lap. Rising, he stared down at her for a long moment; then, reaching for her hand, he helped her to her feet. He released her as soon as she was steady.
    â€œCome,” he said gruffly. “I’ll take you back.”
    Kristine bit down on her lower lip; then, summoning her courage, she asked, “Do we have to? Go back, I mean.” She spread her hands in a gesture that encompassed the surrounding countryside. “It’s so pretty out here. And I do like riding. It’s quite . . . exciting.”
    â€œYou want to ride with me?” he exclaimed, disbelief evident in his voice, in the taut lines of his body.
    â€œYes, my lord, very much.”
    â€œHave you ever ridden before today?”
    She shook her head, wondering if such an admission was wise. Would he make her go back, now that he knew she was a novice?
    â€œI shall have Brandt give you lessons.”
    Taking up Misty’s reins, he led the mare to Kristine. “Are you certain you wish to ride with me?”
    She nodded, feeling a rush of excitement as Erik’s hands closed around her waist. He lifted her effortlessly into the saddle, handed her the reins, then swung onto the stallion’s back and clucked to the horse.
    Kristine urged Misty up beside him. They rode side by side, not speaking.
    In spite of her earlier remark about the beauty of her surroundings, Kristine paid little heed to the passing countryside. The trees might have been blue, the sky green, for all the notice she took. All her senses were riveted on the man riding beside her. The tall, dark mysterious man who was her husband. Erik . . .
    She watched him furtively. He rode easily in the saddle, the reins loosely held in