His For The Taking by Harris Channing Read Free Book Online

how she
and her new turban are faring."
    "Indeed," Bennett
replied. "But meet me in the garden first. I shall bring you refreshment
there and we can enjoy a bit of the cool night air." He tugged on his
collar, his forehead shiny with perspiration. "I am in agony, my
dear."
    "Well, no one is forcing you
to dance every dance with me. A few other gentlemen have tried to ask."
    "I know," he said, the
smile slipping from his lips, his green eyes taking on a seriousness she had
never seen him display. "But I don't wish to share."
    "People will talk."
    "Let them."
    Her hand remained on her heart, the
fierceness of its beat no longer caused by physical exertion. "Sir…"
    He bowed, his dark hair shimmering
in the low candlelight. "Meet me in the garden?"
    "All right," she agreed
hesitantly, for the massive ballroom had grown warm from the throngs of guests
that flooded the Manchester's
beautiful mansion. But that warmth was nothing in comparison to the heat that
now seemed to encompass her entire body.
    What
does he truly want? She wondered. Was he going to attempt to kiss her
again? This time would she push him away? She gnawed on her lower lip. Her
reputation would be ruined if they were seen. Dear Lord she needed some advice.
    He nodded as he departed. She
watched him go, yet doubted the wisdom of her decision to be alone with him.
    She determined to see Grandmother
before she left. She’d know exactly how to handle the situation. She always
knew best.
    On tiptoes, her gaze flitted across
the pastel sea of beautiful ladies dressed in silks and satins and equally
beautiful gentlemen in fine black suits.
    Spying her beloved grandmother in
the corner, a glass of champagne dangled from her black gloved fingertips and a
wide smile creased her face. She spoke with the Duke and Duchess of Manchester.
Grandmother was in her element. Did she truly want to interrupt and chase the
Duke and Duchess away with her silly questions? After all, she was a grown
woman. She could go out into the garden and drink champagne if she wanted to.
What harm was there in that?
    ***
    There she was, sitting on an ornate
bench, the moonlight playing in the small pearls that adorned her rich, russet
hair. Her skin, porcelain, her beautiful rounded breasts pressing against the
bodice of a lacy, pale gown. His Julianna, but ten feet away.
    Still, how did he approach her? Did
he march up to her and tell her of his love? Or did he simply pretend their
meeting was an accident and ask her to dance? Better still, grab her and make a
run for Gretna Green.
    Jonathan slipped into the shadow of
a massive boxwood, he took a deep breath, readying himself for whatever route
he chose to take. All he knew for certain was that he had to see her. To be
near her. To know if she still shared any bit of his feelings.
    At the sound of her sweet laughter,
he craned his neck and to his dismay, found that she was no longer alone.
Jealousy pinched his gut into a painful knot.
    A tall, slender, dandy looking
fellow stood at her side, handing her a glass of champagne. "Damn you
Bennett Nesbitt."
    From his vantage point, Jonathan
could see and hear all the couple said to one another. And he felt suddenly
uncomfortable. He should take his leave. Give them their privacy. Walk away…but
how could he? For Nesbitt was obviously in love. The look in his eyes mirrored
the feeling that now slammed against his abdomen, making him feel nauseated.
    "Julianna, I realize we have
known one another a short time, but you can't have been blind to my intentions."
    Her eyes grew wide as they often
did when caught off guard. "Bennett, I know you are fond of me. That is
obvious by the attention you've offered me since my arrival in London…"
    "Please, let me finish."
Bennett lifted his glass to his lips and emptied the contents. "I am more
than fond of you, Julianna. You make me feel happy and alive. You have entered
my life and made me want things I've never considered important before."
    "I don't