Prince Of Dreams by Lisa Kleypas Read Free Book Online

shoulders hunched defensively. “It wasn't Adam's fault, you know. My father behaved like a modernday Genghis Khan. Adam had no choice but to leave me and go on with his life.”
    “Milbank was too weak for you.”
    “You don't know anything about it.”
    “If he wanted you, he should have fought for you.”
    “Adam is more civilized than that,” she said defensively.
    “Civilized?” Nikolas repeated, holding her gaze. “Is that the kind of man you want?”
    Suddenly there was a twinkle of reluctant amusement in Emma's eyes. She glanced down at her dirt-streaked shirt and trousers. “Well, yes. I'm so terribly un civilized that I need someone to balance me. Don't you agree?”
    “No,” he said softly. “You need someone who will allow you to be as uncivilized as you want.”
    Emma's smile remained as she shook her head. “A pretty sight that would be.” She led him to the next building, where a rust-colored fox darted back and forth inside a large pen. The animal was sleek and healthy, but it moved in uneven hops. Nikolas quirked his brows as he saw that the fox's front left paw was missing.
    “I named him Presto,” Emma said, “because he's so quick and agile.”
    “Evidently not agile enough to keep all his feet.”
    Nimbly the fox hopped to the water dish that Emma had filled to the brim. A few laps, and then the fox turned his full attention to Emma, watching with bright, dark eyes as she drew out an egg from the depths of her pocket.
    “I have a treat for you, Presto,” Emma said in a tantalizing voice. She peeled the boiled egg and held it through the bars of his enclosure. Trembling with eagerness, the fox inched closer.
    “He was caught in a trap.” With practiced skill, Emma let go of the egg just as the fox snatched it. Presto gobbled the delicacy in two saliva-drenched bites. “He was half-dead from exposure and loss of blood. He'd been gnawing his leg off to escape. If I hadn't found Presto when I did, he'd probably be an adornment for some fine lady's mantle or muff—”
    “Please,” Nikolas said politely, “save your speeches for that club you belong to—friends-of-the-animals, or whatever it's called.”
    “The Royal Society for the Humane Treatment of Animals.”
    “Yes, that one.”
    Emma surprised him by looking over her shoulder with a grin. No other woman on earth had such a smile, a sly and irresistible sunburst. “If you want to visit my menagerie, Nikki, you have to listen to my speeches.”
    Nikolas started slightly at the Russian diminutive of his name. Only a few friends from his boyhood had ever called him that. It sounded odd coming from Emma's lips, pronounced in her crisp English accent. Suddenly he felt the need to escape her artless smile, the childlike clarity of her eyes. But he stayed, driven to finish what he had begun, carefully luring her into the snare he had set.
    “I don't see any point in making speeches,” he heard himself say, “until you find replacements for the products they supply—including the meat for your table.”
    “I'm a vegetarian.” Seeing that the word was unfamiliar to him, Emma explained. “That's English for someone who doesn't eat meat.” She laughed at his expression. “You look surprised. Aren't there vegetarians in Russia?”
    “Russians have three requirements for their diet: meat to make the bones strong and the blood red, dark bread to fill the stomach, and vodka to impart joy in life. Give a Russian a plate of green weeds, and he'll feed it to the cow.”
    Emma didn't appear to be impressed. “I'll take weeds any day.”
    “I think you take your opinions to an extreme, dushenka .” Nikolas stared at her with growing amusement. “When did you decide to stop eating meat?”
    “I think I was thirteen, maybe a little older. One night I was in the middle of supper, listening while everyone talked around me, and as I stared down at the roasted game hen in front of me, I felt as if I were picking a little corpse