The Reckless Bride by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online Page B

age, the rough-hewn walls, the eerie stillness of the air. The almost palpable temptation to walk forward and enter one of the tunnels—just a little way, just to see …
    “I think we’ve seen enough.”
    The low words brushed her ear. Startled, she glanced around—and found Carstairs close.
    So close, she stopped breathing. In the dimness, she couldn’t read his eyes, but she could feel the heat of him down her back, feel prickling sensation wash beneath her skin, leaving warmth in its wake.
    Beyond her control, her gaze locked on his lips. For an instant all she heard was her heart thudding as a wave of giddiness washed over her….
    Dragging in a breath, she raised her gaze to his eyes, then stiffened and stepped away.
    Recalling his words, she nodded curtly. “Indeed.” Strengthening her voice, she spoke to the guide. “Thank you. I’ve seen all I need.”
    The guide returned and led the way up the stairs. Loretta followed; Rafe brought up the rear. He was grateful that with the guide carrying the only lamp, he couldn’t truly see Loretta Michelmarsh’s hips shifting this way and that before his face.
    It was a long stairway. Going up took longer than coming down; he had plenty of time to think about his current obsession.
    Last night, having accepted that he would have to play the part of courier-guide to Loretta as well as Esme all the way to England, he’d lain in bed and lectured himself on the folly of being distracted by a pretty face, a pair of fine eyes, and a lushly tempting body. He’d reaffirmed the importance of his mission, then had closed his eyes and slept—and dreamed of making very slow love to a goddess with lustrous dark hair and periwinkle eyes.
    This morning he’d assured himself, dreams notwithstanding, that he was strong enough to deal with Miss Michelmarsh in the flesh; she was just another young lady after all. The strength of his attraction to her was merely a reflection of how long it had been since he’d seen any young lady worth lusting after; it would fade with time.
    It hadn’t faded yet.
    If anything, it had grown. And not because of anything physical—like glimpsing her bare ankle or more of her breasts. No. It was a combination of her reaction to him—that subtle leap of her senses, of her pulse and her awareness, that occurred every time he, however innocently, touched her.
    He knew it, felt it, every time, and the knowledge pricked his awareness of her—the intensity of his senses’ focus on her—to new heights.
    And as if that weren’t enough, she was proving something of a puzzle. A mystery. There was something behind herchoice of sights, something that drove her strangely intent interests.
    Some mystery cause that lit a fire of enthusiasm inside her.
    That fire drew him.
    It transformed her from a merely interesting young woman to a vibrant young woman of mysterious allure.
    Back in the antechamber, they collected Rose and Hassan, and strolled back to the castle gates. Rafe paid off the guide, tipping him generously. Falling in behind Loretta as they walked to their carriage, he heard her tell Rose of the labyrinth. Even though he’d seen it himself, Loretta’s words brought it alive, casting it in a gothicly fanciful light that wasn’t entirely fictitious.
    Once back in the carriage, they rolled on up Castle Hill to Loretta’s next halt—the fisherman’s town. Or, more precisely, the spot that gave an extraordinary view of Buda, Pest, and the Danube between. Descending from the carriage, they strolled the path that curved along the ridge high on the hill, watching various folk from the fishing community pointing to this boat or that, bandying views on the likely catch.
    The views both up and down the river were spectacular. Although chilly, the day was clear, with only a few slate gray clouds hovering on the horizon. River breezes kept the air fresh, sweeping away the sulfurous taint of coal smoke from the town below. Rafe noticed the latter only because