Twice Fallen by Emma Wildes Read Free Book Online Page A

Elizabeth, the legitimate children of her father, but their relationship seemed to be based very loosely on a familydynamic that did not involve any of the normal protocol of English society.
    “I wasn’t aware you’d finished the painting.” He ran his fingers up her arm, marveling at the smoothness of her skin.
    She was an extraordinary artist but did not discuss her work, much less ever offer to give him a private viewing before now.
    “I haven’t.” Her tone was noncommittal. “It is still an unfinished piece.”
    “I would be honored,” he told her quietly, hoping she saw the sincerity in his eyes, and then with some reluctance, he eased free of her body. “Shall I dress?”
    With a musical laugh, Regina shook her head and slipped off the bed, a naked nymph—no, goddess might be more appropriate—with her tumbled long hair brushing her waist and her voluptuous curves. “There’s no need. My staff is limited to a housekeeper and one maid. They are used to my eclectic habits. I think they are reluctant to venture out of their rooms in the middle of the night lest they see something scandalous.”
    A part of him wondered if that meant she occasionally had male visitors—a jealous part he wasn’t aware he even possessed—and a more reasonable voice reminded him he didn’t own her past. She was not a virginal miss. Far from it. Never had she made apologies or offered explanations, but certainly she was the most arousing lover he’d ever bedded. It wasn’t her beauty alone either, but more the mysterious aura that surrounded her.
    He wondered if he’d ever know her in any way except a carnal one.
    And the challenge intrigued him.

     
    What had possessed her?
    Regina slipped on her dressing gown and turned to glance at the man who still reclined on the tangled sheets of her bed. James was magnetically attractive—that was undeniable—though she usually liked the dark brooding types, not blond males with sky-blue eyes who were undeniably even-tempered and might even be labeled as “conventional.” He was lean, but athletically built, and his refined features had an almost boyish cast. But there was no doubt at all his quiet smile and reserved air of masculine confidence was what had caught her attention in the first place.
    That boring dinner she hadn’t wanted to attend had turned into an interesting evening when she was seated next to him, and an even more delightful night when she’d suggested he might escort her home. Since then he’d regularly shared her bed, but she’d done her best from the beginning to make it clear they were lovers and nothing more. The idea of a permanent relationship didn’t appeal to her. It never had. Her art filled her life.
    Besides, there was the difference in their ages. She was thirty-five and he was a good deal younger.
    Oh, yes, she’d had a younger lover once. It hadn’t been a wonderful experience because he’d been eager and fumbling and she’d decided then and there that older men undoubtedly had a bit more finesse.
    Not that she’d tested that theory very often.
    She was a bit of a sham.
    Regina Daudet, the eccentric half sister of Viscount Altea, not precisely accepted in the most exalted social circles because of her birth, her scandalous hobby as anartist shunned, was actually not as unconventional as everyone assumed, but she didn’t mind the notoriety. Her brother Luke had offered more than once to use his influence to gain her acceptance to even the most exclusive of London society’s various entertainments, but she had always declined.
    Her relationship with her father had been precious to her. Though he’d never married her mother, he had always treated her as his beloved eldest child and Luke’s birth hadn’t altered that between them. She and her father’s wife had a cautious but conciliatory relationship, given that she was the product of an earlier liaison. Regina had decided early on she disdained the snobbish social aspect of