Rules for Reforming a Rake by Meara Platt Read Free Book Online Page B

his exquisite features.
    Oh, she was doomed to an evening of torment! It wasn’t fair that a man as wicked as Gabriel should look so good. The cut of his formal black coat accentuated his broad shoulders, powerful chest, and trim waist. The light shimmering into the carriage from the street seemed to form a halo about his magnificent gold hair.
    “Good evening, Lord Dayne,” she managed with a pronounced squeak to her voice. Be clever. Be clever. Now is your chance to show him you’re not in the least affected by his presence .
    “Please, call me Gabriel.”
    Unfortunately, he did affect her—she couldn’t overlook the rapid beats of her heart or the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She stared at his lips as they moved, unable to respond to his question. Wait, had he even asked a question? His lips were as tempting as hot scones slathered in butter. Made her want to sink her mouth on them and lick— stop thinking of slathering Gabriel with anything! Finally she managed an appallingly dim-witted reply. “What?”
    He leaned close and began to speak to her as slowly as one would to a foreigner who did not understand the English language or to a person of limited understanding. “I... said... you... may... call... me... Gabriel.”
    Ah, this was going to be a very long evening .
    “I... heard... you... the... first... time,” she replied, leaning ever closer so that their noses almost touched as she imitated his manner of speech. “I... just... hadn’t... expected... the... offer.”
    He chuckled lightly.
    Their breaths mingled.
    His was nice, as inviting as a soft May breeze.
    Her skin grew hot and inexplicably began to tingle. Not fair. Not fair!
    He chuckled again and eased his large frame so that his back rested against the polished leather squabs.
    His long legs grazed hers as the carriage jerkily pulled away.
    She let out a slight gasp— more of another eep really. Definitely not fair! She had better sense—or ought to have had better sense—than to respond to that knave’s accidental touch. And why was she still thinking of his lips and wishing to lick them?
    Eloise was now staring at her. “Did you say something, Daisy?”
    How could she when she could hardly string two words together? “No.”
    “I thought you did,” she insisted, casting Daisy an assessing smile. Oh, dear. Was Eloise really thinking of using her to civilize her grandson?
    She had to disabuse her of the notion at once. “But I didn’t say anything just now. Nor did I mean what I said earlier. You remember.” She arched an eyebrow and subtly glanced in Gabriel’s direction.
    “Why not? I thought it was an excellent idea,” Eloise persisted.
    “I know. But it isn’t.”
    “Ah, I see.” Eloise’s smile broadened as she also cast a subtle glance in Gabriel’s direction. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice. “I do see.”
    Daisy stifled a groan. “I don’t think you do, Eloise.”
    “I’m sure I do.”
    “I don’t think so.” Crumpets! She recognized that look of determination. Eloise was going to match make. A terrible idea that would not end well for her or Gabriel.
    “But I do.”
    Daisy heaved a sigh. “And I—”
    “May I interrupt this scintillating conversation?” Gabriel asked dryly.
    “Please do,” Daisy said, certain this evening was headed for disaster. She couldn’t possibly reform this rakehell, for she was an utter nitwit whenever in his presence. She didn’t understand why, but his wretched smirk was making matters worse. How rude of him! Indeed, quite rude. She had forgiven his behavior at their first meeting, but had no intention of doing so now.
    “Your grandmother and I were trying to hold an intelligent conversation... that is to say, we are usually capable of holding intelligent conversations... and often do... at least, your grandmother does... though we aren’t having one just now, are we?”
    Oh, dear . She was rambling and he was grinning.
    A deliciously soft grin.
    And