Delight by Jillian Hunter Read Free Book Online Page A

sent this bolt of curious longing to lodge so deeply inside her. They had not touched her on such an elemental level.
    He was unabashedly male. She could sense the dark passions and power that simmered beneath his off-handed charm. She could sense something very animal and untamed in him that he kept under control.
    And she responded to it.
    She sighed, chastising herself.
    She needed this man for his fighting skills, not for his masculine prowess, as impressive as she suspected he would prove in that arena. Was she going to lose her head just because she was alone with a sinfully attractive man for the first time in her life?
    He took the final step to guide her up into another passageway where low-burning torches threw shadows on the wall. His size enhanced that foolish illusion of fragility she had felt a few moments ago.
    She was a little unbalanced by the rush of blood through her veins, which made her feel reckless and lightheaded.
    " Follow me, " he said, his voice polite yet imperious as if he knew exactly what effect he had on her and was waiting for her to compose herself.
    And Rowena did as he asked, suddenly afraid she had answered her own question.
    She followed him with the eagerness of a woman compelled by her own curiosity to explore and experience life to the fullest.
    She was definitely going to lose her head.
     
     
    D ouglas swore to himself in three different languages. Here he was alone with one of the world's most eligible heiresses. His bedchamber was only a stone ' s throw away. She followed him with virginal innocence, unaware of her precarious situation.
    Was he nuzzling her neck and whispering love words in her ear? Was he peeling off her gloves, blowing kisses on her wrist, as he learned what pleased the lady? No. He was serving her hot chocolate in the solar and fussing over her like a great-aunt. This princess wielded a strange power indeed.
    Douglas didn ' t think he would enjoy behaving himself. Such self-denial went against his true nature. It caused him physical discomfort to pretend he hadn ' t noticed the tempting curves beneath her gown, to pretend he was unaware of her feminine appeal. He had to restrain himself from backing her into the wall and kissing her until she dissolved into a puddle of helpless passion at his feet.
    He had to be satisfied with holding her hand.
    Hell, he couldn ' t even impress her with a Shakespearean sonnet because he had to run back downstairs and help tidy the hall before the princess realized she had stumbled into a den of salty old sea dogs.
    His princess.
    A smile twisted his mouth.
    He could smell her light floral scent, some delicious type of French-milled soap like lilies or violets. He wondered how she'd react if he treated her as he had his other women. Would she like gentle wooing? It seemed unlikely that a princess would enjoy being tossed over his shoulder like a barmaid. He ' d bet his jack-boots that sensuous flames smoldered beneath her self-possession, waiting for the man with the magic spark.
    Well, if everything went as planned, if he actually managed to convince her he wasn ' t the Devil incarnate, he might just be the one to light her candle.
    He steered her toward an arched doorway. " The solar, Your Highness. While you make yourself comfortable, I'll go downstairs and see what ' s taking those oafs so long."
    Rowena glanced up at him in amusement. " Did you just refer to your servants as oafs, my lord? "
    " What? " He looked down at her in astonishment. "I believe I said loafs. As in loafs of bread. "
    " Loaves. " She bit the edge of her lip. " Loaves of bread. "
    " Quite so. "
    She stared past him with a puzzled smile. " Oh, dear, if I ' m not mistaken, this isn't the solar at all. It appears to be the chapel. "
    Douglas swung around. Altar, candles, holy water-stoop, moonlight piercing the lancet windows. What the hell had he done now? Turned right instead of left? He felt like a complete moron.
    " I ' ve prayed so often of late that I