Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] by Not Quite A Gentleman Read Free Book Online

rumpled, dirty shirt covered, or at least as much as she’d been able to see at a distance. If only that distance hadn’t been so great—
    She chopped off the disturbing thought before it could take root and fill her mind with images she did not wish to…imagine. It seemed that ever since she’d read the Ladies’ Guide —a half-dozen times—her thoughts had increasingly veered toward things of that nature. But of course, that was the point of the book—to encourage women to change the way they viewed themselves and men. To encourage Today’s Modern Woman to take her destiny in her own hands and not allow it to be determined solely on the basis of her gender. She’d taken its teachings to heart. And thus far she was deservedly proud of her performance. She’d managed to not allow her lips to run amok, although it had required some effort, as she tended to babble when unsettled, and damnation, the man unsettled her.
    Victoria raised her chin and straightened her shoulders. She was a Modern Woman. And as such, she would gather her fortitude, recall with whom she was dealing, and put her plan into action. She was not the same naive girl Dr. Oliver had met three years ago. Her inner voice warned her that unfortunately he was the same devastatingly attractive man she’d met. But she could easily resist him. She knew the sort of cad he was. And he would soon know she was not a woman to be trifled with. She took comfort in the fact that she was going into battle well-armed with her Ladies’ Guide and a foolproof plan.
    The gravel drive crunched beneath her shoes, yanking her from her thoughts. She jerked her gaze away from Dr. Oliver’s back to look up at the majesty that was Creston Manor and could not deny her surprised pleasure at the grandness of the house. Two impressive stone stairways curved gracefully downward, appearing like welcoming arms to embrace any and all who approached the massivedouble oak doors. The windows gleamed, reflecting gilded sunshine, and the aged brick and soaring white columns lent the structure an air of old world charm that appealed to Victoria’s sense of proportion.
    Settling her hand on the glossy black, wrought-iron banister, she climbed the stairs behind Dr. Oliver. She looked up and found herself staring at his backside. One would have had to been blind—and her eyesight was exceptionally keen—not to notice how his breeches hugged his muscular legs. How those muscles flexed with each stair tread he climbed. The trimness of his hips. The broadness of his back. The fascinating shape of his…bottom.
    How utterly aggravating that he looked as marvelous from the back as from the front. How incredibly irritating that in spite of being filthy, sweaty, and smelling as if he’d spent the day cavorting in a dirty barn, she still had to grip the banister tighter to quell the overwhelming desire to reach out and touch him.
    And how completely unsettling and frustrating that her heart had stumbled into an erratic beat the instant she’d seen him. Just as it had the first time she laid eyes on him three years ago. Botheration. What on earth was wrong with her? Clearly the long journey had addled her wits, for Dr. Oliver’s unkempt appearance alone proved that he was no more of a gentleman than when they’d last met. Well, once she’d had a bath, changed her clothes, and enjoyed a hot meal and a good night’s rest in a proper bed, she’d be set back to rights.
    But, there was no denying that Dr. Oliver was still devilishly attractive. Perhaps more so. ’Twas fortunate that she knew what sort of ill-mannered man he was, lest her head might have been turned. Yet, during those few seconds when they’d studied each other, she’d noted thatthere was something different about him…something in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before. Shadows…of hurts, perhaps. Or secrets. If it had been anyone else, she would have felt sorry for the person. Indeed, a fissure of sympathy had nearly