Our Wicked Mistake by Emma Wildes Read Free Book Online Page A

the same dancing master and essentially learned together. It was instinct to move in perfect accord to the lilting music, the patterns predictable, her body swaying against his in provocative motion.
    Unconscious provocative motion, he knew, as her full skirts brushed his legs. He found it provocative, though it was perfectly proper. Those dancing lessons had been heaven mixed with a liberal dose of hell.
    Damn all.
    When, precisely, had he fallen in love with her? He couldn’t recall. There hadn’t been a brilliant flash of rec ognition of the moment, no trumpets had sounded, nor had he caught sight of Cupid poised anywhere with a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. As they matured he’d just become aware of it, like noticing the sky is blue, or the verdant color of a country pasture coming into focus. It was just there .
    She’d still been so innocent, so unconsciously lovely as she’d begun the transition from a girl to a woman. It was only a few years ago—she was just nineteen now—but he’d done his best to keep his distance, and it hadn’t been too difficult during the years he was at Eton and then Cambridge. He’d finished university early and gone home to Berkshire, his natural aptitude for academics putting him back in her sphere right about the time she was preparing for her bow. It was upon his return that he was forced to acknowledge the reality of his position.
    She didn’t look at him the same way.
    It wasn’t the only obstacle in courting her either. He was merely the stepson of a baronet, with nothing but a modest portion from his inheritance. No title, no for tune, no aristocratic lineage, except that his grandfather had been an earl, but his father had been the youngest son out of four before his death when Miles was two years old.
    In contrast, Elizabeth’s brother was a wealthy vis count, her dowry generous, and she was both lovely and intelligent. In short, she could, and no doubt would, do much better than him.
    It was just the cold, unpalatable truth. He’d kept his role as brotherly childhood friend because it was something , and no matter his thwarted passion, she was still, and forever would be, his best friend. So they bickered as always, and his secret was safe.
    “Uncle Chas said you persuaded him to invest in your shipping company.” As they danced, Elizabeth gazed up at him from under the veil of her lush lashes. “Luke is considering it also, I understand.”
    The company was his idea, but though Miles was sure enough of the venture, he wasn’t quite willing to claim it as his very own. “There are multiple investors,” he said evasively, swinging her into a turn, one hand at her slim waist. “It isn’t mine alone.”
    “Hmm.”
    “What does that mean?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “It means when you get that particular shuttered look, you have something to hide. I know you.”
    He wished she knew him. In the biblical sense. He’d taught her to swim, to ride her pony, to climb a tree . . . how he’d love to enlighten her on how to make slow, long, lingering love, initiating her into the joys of the flesh with a thoroughness that would leave them both gasping and sated afterward . . .
    He wasn’t at liberty to tell her that the royal family had also decided to invest. If this endeavor was success ful, and he was as certain as he could be that it had po tential, he might someday be a rich man.
    Someday would be too late. Elizabeth would marry this season.
    To change the subject and needle her, instead he said with a wicked smile, “Lord Porter is hovering, waiting for this dance to be over. I don’t think you’re going to escape so easily, El.”
    She muttered an unladylike word that he’d taught her long ago, and he stifled a laugh.
    And got to waltz with her for the next dance.

Chapter Five

     
     
     
    H e woke—it happened all too often—sweating, disoriented, trapped in the misty moonlight that spilled across the bed. Luke sat up, shivering as the sheets fell