Knight of My Dreams by Lynsay Sands Read Free Book Online

up,” Lord Jonathan said.
    Alice glanced at the back of his head, then pressed close and held on tightly as he spurred his mount into a trot. She didn’t hold her breath this time. Instead she sat, her breasts pressed against his back, her hands clutched at his front, breathing in deeply of his scent.
    She was enjoying it so much, it took her most of the ride to realize that despite his words, Jonathan wasn’t trying very hard to catch up to her uncle and his mother. He had the horse going at a trot, but a rather slow one, really. They had ridden here faster. She was so startled by the realization that she loosened her hold and started to pull away, but he stopped her by catching her hands with one of his own.
    â€œYou had best hold on,” he said. “I would not wish to see you fall.”
    Alice wondered at the husky note to his voice, but decided to merely enjoy the ride. She relaxed against him.

Chapter Three
    J onathan managed to keep his smile in place as his toes were trampled by yet another dance partner, but only just. He could honestly say that even the siege of Calais, where he had suffered a wound to the stomach that had caused him immeasurable pain and nearly killed him, was preferable to this hell his mother had arranged.
    His bridal feast. That was what she called it. She had arranged for the celebration with the king, and now Jonathan was suffering through it. His first complaint was with the name. Shouldn’t it be called the groom’s feast? It was his feast, and he was the proposed groom, after all. Yet nay; his mother claimed it was to find him a bride; therefore it was his bridal feast.
    Jonathan’s face twisted with disgust. As silly as the name was, the actual event itself was worse. His mother had managed to finagle the use of the great hall in the palace. The king and queen were in attendance.
    Jonathan’s eyes slid unhappily to the glowering monarch and his wife. Edward had been sternly glaring, mostly at Jonathan, since arriving. He supposed it was to show how seriously His Majesty meant his orders to be taken. Jonathan was getting the message.
    Another stomp on his toe drew his attention back to his dance partner. He sighed inwardly. The woman was myopic and a venerable four-and-thirty. Jonathan was thirty, himself, and so he supposed she was not that old—but she was well past the age considered prime for childbearing. She should have been crossed off the list at the picnic, but, in the end, no one had been crossed off that list. His mother had left the whole thing intact. Every woman at court was in attendance here tonight.
    Looking around, Jonathan found his thoughts wandering to Alice and their ride back to the castle two days earlier. He instinctively sought the Houghton girl out where she stood with her mother, her uncle, and his own mother near the king and queen.
    Much to Jonathan’s surprise, he had found himself preoccupied with thoughts of the lass ever since that day. And not just any thoughts. He kept recalling her husky voice as she’d pressed that cool, sweet strawberry to his lips, could still smell the scent that had drifted off of her, ensnaring him in its erotic spell. And the vision he’d glimpsed of her delectable breasts, too, they kept rising before his eyes, blinding him to all else around him. Then, there were his sensual memories from their return trip that haunted him. If he concentrated, Jonathan would swear he could still feel her arms around his body and her breasts pressed against his back.
    Yes, he had found himself undoubtedly aroused by that ride. His body had reacted to this girl as it had to no other, and that very fact had left him somewhat embarrassed and discomfited once they reached the stables. Jonathan had found himself avoiding Alice’s gaze, as if she might read the less-than-sterling thoughts that had been tumbling through his mind. So he had done a fine job of avoiding her ever since.
    It hadn’t