The Earl's Daughter by Cassie Lyons Read Free Book Online

until he knew she was safe. Sylvie could almost forget her pain for Robert as she stared at Peter. And as her eyes continued to drink in the sight of his handsome face, she felt an overwhelming desire to be closer to him. Much closer.
    Sylvie slid from her bed, tiptoed across the room, and knelt on the floor beside him. As her hand reached for his head, her heart hammered beneath her chest. Shiny, deepest black and exceptionally soft, his hair had been crying for her touch from the first moment she saw him. Even though her touch was feather soft, it was enough to rouse him from slumber. When he opened his eyes and saw her hovering over him, Peter just stared at her in silence.
    Her finger traced his eyebrow and slipped down to his cheekbone, tracing its sharp ridge. She lightly tapped the three freckles that formed a triangle below his eye. As her finger tickled his cheek, he closed his eyes again, secretly relishing in her touch.
    “I'm sorry I woke you,” she finally said.
    Peter opened his eyes and smiled at her. “You needn't apologize.”
    “I felt... alone. I needed someone to talk to.” Sylvie resisted the urge to touch his lips, even though the temptation was great. She did, however, lie on the floor beside him and pull his blanket around her body.
    Peter watched her in the corner of his eye and chuckled. “The bed's not comfortable enough for you, my lady?”
    “The bed is... tolerable,” Sylvie said. “But I would rather be close to you.”
    When he rolled on his side, facing her direction, Peter's eyebrow was raised. “Is that so?”
    “Indeed.”
    “Are you yet suffering from some impairment of your senses? From the drink?”
    “My mind is my own again,” Sylvie assured him. “My desire to be near you is an honest and genuine one.”
    “So you say... but you will have to forgive me if I'm more than a bit perplexed.”
    “Peter...” Without warning, Sylvie seized his hand and pulled it to her face. She cupped his hand around her cheek and nestled against the warmth of his palm. “May I ask you something?”
    “Anything, my lady.”
    “Do you think I am pretty?” Her lips puckered involuntarily, lightly kissing his thumb. “Or would you say I am plain?”
    “You are very pretty.”
    “Not as pretty as Clarissa, however...”
    “Prettier than her,” Peter corrected her. “Prettier than anyone.”
    “Do you mean that?”
    “Of course I mean it.” He lightly rapped her nose with his thumb. “I'm a man of few words, Miss Stafford, and I never say anything I don't mean.”
    Her next question was a bit more shocking. “Will you lay with me? Tonight? In this bed? O-or on the floor... I really don't care.”
    “Lay... with... you...” The words were difficult to repeat. “Now I know you cannot be sober.”
    “I am sober. I am. I have more clarity at this very moment than I have had in ages,” Sylvie insisted. “If I'm fated to marry a much older man... a man who I will likely never love... I want to enjoy one night. This may be the last opportunity I have to be with a man I truly admire... a man who, if I am not mistaken, truly admires me.”
    “I do admire you. But you're talking nonsense. You're mad!”
    “I'm not mad!” Sylvie was adamant. “And I have never wanted anything more. You can give me something, on this very night... a chance to feel something I am quite certain I shall never feel again. I want to feel... loved.” When she saw him open his mouth, she covered his lips with her hand. “Please, Peter, do not tell me you don't love me. I could not bear to hear that!”
    He turned his head away from her hand and said, “I wasn't going to say that.”
    “Oh...” His voice was so soft and gentle, it made a tremor erupt on her body. “Wh-what were you going to say?”
    “I was going to say, my lady... Sylvie ...” When he whispered her name, he saw her shudder again. “I never thought I'd get to touch you.”
    And that was all Sylvie needed to hear. She grasped his