Stranger in Camelot by Deborah Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

I’m being reckless, not cautious.”
    “For kissing me? No. Deep down you know I’m wonderfuland we’re going to have a wonderful time together.”
    She laughed to take the edge off her next words. “This isn’t a beach movie and we’re not having a summer romance. So don’t expect any clambakes.”
    “You can’t insult me,” he insisted, his tone droll, “because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Now come on, you can’t tell me you never saw a Frankie and Annette flick. What are you—thirty-something years old, right? And you never saw Beach Blanket Bingo when you were a kid? Even an English kid oughta know about Frankie and Annette.”
    “I had an unusual upbringing.”
    He spoke with a hard edge in his voice. She glanced at him curiously, but couldn’t analyze his shuttered expression. She pondered what she knew about him. He’d attended one of England’s most pretigious colleges, been an alternate on the Olympic equestrian team, and was the heir to a successful family business. That spelled big money and blue blood.
    “You must have gone to private schools,” she prodded. “Pretty strict and traditional, from what I’ve heard. Nobody wasted time watching TV or going to silly movies.”
    He was silent for so long that she wondered if he’d heard her. “Something like that,” he said finally.
    His voice was so subdued, she felt protective of him. Aggie gritted her teeth. He was two hundred-plus pounds of muscular, rugged handsomeness, with a face that looked as if it had been molded by intense passions. He was educated and successful. Protection was the last thing he needed. So she’d treat him like a testy stallion with a sore leg—she’d be sympathetic, but watch out for his kick.
    “Aw, never mind about Frankie and Annette,” she told him. “You didn’t miss anything important. I shouldn’t have teased you.”
    “You can tease me all you want.” He exhaled, as if relieved, and draped his arm along the back of the seat. Then he twirled a finger into a strand of her ponytail. “But I’ll tease back.”
    “So let me tell you more about Ida Roberts,” she said quickly. “She had a feud with my grandpa, and I inherited it.”
    “A feud about what?”
    “Ducks. Really ugly ducks.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Domestic ducks. Mixed breeds. Big ones. With no manners and nonstop appetites. Whenever Grandpa’s horses got out and visited Ida’s place, they became hostages in the duck war. Ida locked mares in her pasture and refused to give them back.”
    “What did he have to do?”
    “Let her call him names.” She turned onto a private drive lined with graceful mimosa trees. Their feathery green fronds reached toward the truck. John held his hand out the window and let them brush his fingertips. But he kept his other hand lightly twined in her hair. She could barely feel it, but every inch of her body knew it was there.
    “Is that all she does? Call people names?” John asked.
    “Usually. Don’t be surprised if she calls you ‘a snake from a scum pond,’ or something even more disgusting.”
    The truck’s wheels made crackling noises on the drive’s crushed-shell surface. John’s deep chuckle added a smooth baritone note, relaxed and confident. “A snake from a scum pond. How rude,” he said lightly. “Tell me what else to expect.”
    “You’ll see. Don’t get mad. She loves a fight. She used to provoke Grandpa until he’d have to come home and take an extra blood-pressure tablet.”
    “You’re certain she has your horses?”
    Aggie nodded. “They cut across the edge of the marshesto her backyard. Ida only has two acres, with half of it fenced in. They head straight for her pasture to see Pogo.”
    “Pogo?”
    “A midget four-footed Romeo. The Napoleon of the pony set. Small, sexy, and overconfident. The gals think he’s fabulous. And he, of course, thinks they’re right.”
    “Is he a threat? Any chance of an illicit love affair between