The Beauty Bride (The Jewels of Kinfairlie) by Delacroix Claire Read Free Book Online Page B

the others...”
    “I
understand as much as I need to understand,” she said, her words as cold as
ice. “God save my sisters if you think of them as you have thought of me.”
    “Madeline!”
    But
the lady turned her back upon her sibling, her bearing as regal as that of a
queen, her gaze locking with Rhys’ own. He saw the hurt that she fought to hide
and felt a kinship with her, for he too had been betrayed by those he had
believed held him in regard.
    “I
believe there is a meal laid to celebrate our pending nuptials, sir,” she said,
her words carrying clearly over the hall.
    Aye,
this bride would suit him well. Rhys lifted her hand in his grip and bent to
brush his lips across her knuckles in salute. She shivered and he smiled,
knowing their nuptial night would be a lusty one.
    “Well
done, my lady,” he murmured, liking that she was not readily daunted. “Perhaps
our agreement should be sealed in more fitting way.”
    A
beguiling flush launched over the lady’s face and her lips parted as if in
invitation. Rhys gave her hand a minute tug as the company hooted, and she took
a pace closer. He could fairly feel the heat of her breath upon his cheek and
her own cheeks flushed. Still she did not look away, though her breath came
quickly in her uncertainty.
    Rhys
entwined their fingers, then lifted his other hand to her face. He moved
slowly, so as not to alarm her, well aware of her uncertainty. She would be a
maiden, without doubt. It would not do to make her fearful of his touch. Rhys
tipped Madeline’s chin upward with his fingertip. Her flesh was soft beyond
belief, her valor admirable. He smiled slightly, saw a spark in her eyes that
reassured him as little else might have done. This was no fragile maiden who
would fear her own shadow.
    Rhys
bent and captured Madeline’s sweet lips beneath his own. To his satisfaction,
the lady did not flinch, nor did she pull away.
    Aye,
this was a wife who would suit him well.
     
    * * *
     
    Chapter Two
     
    Rhys’
kiss was more gentle than Madeline had anticipated.
    Indeed,
his kiss fairly melted her bones. An intoxicating heat rolled through her, the
pressure of his lips against hers making her yearn for more. He smelled of wind
and rain and leather, altogether masculine and alluring.
    Yet
he was gentle with her. And patient. Madeline knew that he coaxed her caress,
that he believed her to be innocent, and though she guessed it to be his
intent, her fear of him faded like night at the dawn.
    Truly,
the man could addle the wits of any woman with a kiss like this. Madeline had
never guessed that such pleasure could be launched from such a gentle caress,
nor had she imagined that she might become a willing participant in this
embrace.
    But
then, circumstances were most uncommon. She was angry and hurt and knew not
which way to turn. That she should be consoled by a complete stranger, a
stranger she would be compelled to wed against her own volition, was beyond
belief.
    No
less that he would console her with a kiss.
    Her
heart had nigh stopped when she had guessed what he would do, then it had raced
when he touched her chin. A measure of her resistance had melted with the
softening of his expression, and she did not doubt that he knew as much.
    Then
his lips had claimed hers and she found herself beguiled. Her anger with
Alexander was forgotten in a trio of heartbeats, her curiosity about his sudden
need for coin faded to nothing.
    The
sole thing of import was Rhys’ gently persuasive kiss. Madeline would never
have guessed that a man so stern of appearance could grant such a seductive
caress. The very fact of it made her wonder what manner of man he was truly,
whether his garb and manner belied his true nature.
    When
Rhys lifted his head, there was a twinkle in his dark eyes, a twinkle as
alluring as his kiss. His grip was tight upon her fingers and he seemed to be
drawn taut, waiting for her response as the arrow waits to be loosed from the
bow.
    As
if he cared whether