Royal Seduction by Donna Clayton Read Free Book Online Page A

heaven that she hadn’t really realized he’d been suffering with a helpless fragility due to his oh-too-physical reaction to her, and that he’d merely agreed to treat the outlandish illness she’d labeled as lonesomeness by taking her out on the town.
    But he wasn’t certain the town of Portland was ready for the likes of Catherine Houston. He cut her a quick sidelong glance.
    She was a stunner. The black dress she wore clung to the curves of her luscious body. Her stiletto heels accentuated about a mile’s worth of firm and shapely legs. She was enough to make a man salivate.
    â€œSo what do you have planned?”
    Her voice sounded like a soft caress.
    Normally well grounded in realism, Riley was not a fanciful thinker. Relating her question to a soft touch was out-of-character for him. But even that realization didn’t keep the hair on his arms from standing on end. Riley shook his head and inhaled a lungful of mind-clearing oxygen.
    â€œIt’s a surprise,” he told her, holding open the heavy glass door for her. “We still have some daylight left. I have something I want to show you. One of my favorite places. We won’t get to stay long because they close at six. But you’ll get to experience a little of it, at least.”
    Portland’s Classical Chinese Garden was a walled oasis. Located smack-dab in the center of “old town,” the gardens encompassed a full block of serpentine walkways, open colonnades and Asian architecture. The landscape was meticulously arranged with rare and unusual plants, mosaic stone paths and a small bridged lake.
    Delight shined from Catherine’s eyes when they entered, and Riley told her, “Believe it or not, this used to be a parking lot. Back in the eighties, Portland became a sister city with Suzhou, China. Not long after, this land was donated and construction began on the garden.”
    For several long moments they walked in silence, simply enjoying the sights, sounds and scents of nature.
    Closing her eyes, she tipped up her chin and inhaled.“Mmmm,” she murmured. “I just love jasmine. Always have.”
    Riley let his gaze trail down the long length of her milky throat. He envisioned himself pressing his nose to her heated, silky skin.
    Realization suddenly struck. “That’s what you smell like. Jasmine.”
    Her blue eyes sparked with appreciation, and warmth rushed to his face. He had no idea why he felt embarrassed over his remark. This woman made him react in the most peculiar ways.
    â€œI—I couldn’t place the flowery scent in your perfume before,” he stammered. “But now I know. It’s jasmine.”
    Her wide mouth curled softly. Deliciously. He got the distinct sense that she was grateful he’d noticed. The expression on her lovely face caused a repositioning of the warmth that had been in his face and neck, and the heat raced right to the pit of his gut.
    â€œA French perfumery makes this scent just for me,” she said, and as soon as the words slipped from her lips, she looked annoyed.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    One wavy blond tress fell over her shoulder when she shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she told him.
    â€œOf course it’s something. Your brow is knitted tighter than the wool scarf my mother sent me for my birthday.” He stopped, deciding not to take another step on the stone pathway until she answered his question.
    She halted a couple steps ahead and then had to turn to face him. Evidently realizing she’d have to confess, she shrugged. “It’s just that I’m not a good liar.”
    He chuckled. “And that’s a bad thing because…?”
    â€œWell, I wanted to spend my time in Portland as anyother average, ordinary woman.” Irony tightened one corner of her mouth. “But average, ordinary women don’t have perfume specially blended in France, do they?”
    He wasn’t