Monsoon Mists by Christina Courtenay Read Free Book Online Page A

again.’
    He stood up as well. ‘I beg your pardon? I wasn’t aware I’d asked a question.’ He tilted his head slightly to one side and gave her his best smile, the one he’d been told could melt a woman’s heart at fifty paces. Not this one, apparently. The thought almost made him laugh out loud, but then he wondered what it was about him that she found so offensive. They’d hardly exchanged two sentences.
    ‘I can see that you’re the kind of man who usually has all the ladies in a flutter, and no doubt you thought I’d be another easy conquest,’ she said, rushing the words out as if she’d recited them many times before.
    Perhaps she had, Jamie thought.
    ‘But I’m not looking for a husband so you’d be wasting your breath,’ she finished, drawing in a deep gulp of air at last. ‘You’ll have to make your fortune some other way, as will the gentleman who asked me earlier.’
    Anger rushed to the surface, making Jamie forget everything except wanting to punish this woman for her presumption that all men wanted to marry an heiress. Just like Elisabet. He deliberately stared at her bosom as it heaved enticingly. This made her blush, so he allowed his gaze to travel up to her face and back down along her body. ‘As I said, I wasn’t asking,’ he drawled. ‘And believe me, marriage wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when I saw you.’
    He had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen and her nostrils flare with outrage, but thought to himself that she’d deserved it. Why should he concern himself with her sensibilities when she was so set against every male she encountered without bothering to make their acquaintance properly? The nerve of the woman, to assume he’d want to marry her when they had only just met.
    ‘Well, really! I’m—’
    ‘—not used to men who aren’t interested in you? No, I can see that. But rest assured, Mrs Miller, you’d be the last woman on earth I’d want to marry. If you’re ever looking for a mere dalliance, however, just let me know. I’d be more than happy to oblige.’ He let the words hang in the air for a moment, then gave her a mocking bow. ‘And now, since we’ve established that neither of us is interested in wedded bliss, I’ll bid you goodnight. There seems no point in prolonging the conversation or becoming acquainted further. Enjoy your solitary life.’
    He turned on his heel and stalked off, more shaken by the encounter than he’d care to admit. Mrs Miller had reminded him of everything he’d been trying to forget and all the reasons why he’d come to India in the first place. Her assumptions about him were as rude as they were unfounded. What was it about spoiled beautiful women that they thought every man within ten miles would want to marry them? They could at least wait to be asked. He gave vent to his anger by downing several glasses of pale punch.
    ‘Bitch,’ he muttered, thinking of Mrs Miller but instead startling a matron nearby. He gave her his most charming smile to placate her, but inside he was still seething because in his mind’s eye the beautiful Mrs Miller had merged with Elisabet, who’d made the same assumption.
    He felt the old resentment well up and threaten to choke him, but he forced it down. He was probably over-reacting and, in any case, what did it matter? Mrs Miller wasn’t his concern and he need never talk to her again.
    To hell with all women.
    Zarmina stood frozen to the spot for several long moments, staring at the back of Mr Kinross as he strode off. She brought one trembling hand up to her mouth and tried to calm herself by taking a deep breath. The encounter had been worse than most, despite the fact that Kinross hadn’t even tried to touch her. But he’d virtually devoured her with his eyes. She’d felt naked and vulnerable and yet … excited?
    ‘Curse him!’
    She didn’t know why she was so upset. She ought to be used to this by now, but although she’d received more marriage proposals