A Baron in Her Bed Read Online Free PDF

lies, she struggled to come up with an answer but failed to think of good one. “I live over the stables, so I doubt that’s likely,” she said finally.
    He chuckled. “You don’t wish to tell me the truth of it?”
    “There’s nothing to tell, my lord. I was exercising the horse. With the colonel’s permission, of course.”
    “Of course,” he echoed with amusement in his voice. “As long as no one awaits your return.”
    Did he think she’d ridden the horse without permission? Might he suspect she went to meet a lover? Horatia was quite comfortable with that; it was a virile thing for a groom to do after all. She settled on the rug by the fire again, and they finished the sandwiches in silence.
    The pleasure and ease she had begun to feel in his company was broken when he stood up. He looked very big and strong as he eased out of his greatcoat. She held her breath when he joined her on the rug. He drew up his long legs and clasped his knees with his hands. The wind howled around the creaking hut, and the flames popped and spluttered in the fireplace as they ate into the wood.
    When his arm brushed Horatia’s, nervous prickles traveled up her spine. Alert to every movement, she resisted moving away. He made it worse when he patted her on the shoulder. “I am most apprécient , Simon.” He smiled. “ I would be dead but for you.”
    “’Twas merely luck, my lord.” She was glad that dusk had fallen because his features had begun to blur in the glow of the fire. “You should treat that wound.”
    “Would you do it for me?” He took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “You can use my cravat to tie up my head, if you will be so good.”
    On her knees, Horatia’s pulse leapt at the prospect of touching him. Firming her lips, she edged closer and dabbed at the wound with the corner of the handkerchief dampened with whiskey, wiping away where the blood had run down into an eyebrow. The cut had ceased bleeding. His soft breath tinged with whiskey touched her cheek. She swallowed. “I don’t believe it needs stitching.” Her gruff voice sounded unsympathetic to her ears.
    “Then it will not leave a scar and spoil my good looks.”
    “I doubt it.” Indeed, it might serve to make him more attractive. As she moved, so did her unfettered breasts beneath her coat. Her sensitive nipples rubbed against the material, and she leaned backwards in fear he might discover them at any moment. Luckily his eyes were closed.
    “You have a gentle touch for a man, Simon.”
    “My work with sick horses and foaling taught me to be gentle.”
    “Such good work you do. I would like to work with animals.”
    “You would?”
    “ Oui. Animals are noble. I cannot say as much of some people. I have had dogs and horses I could rely on for my life.” He frowned. “I hope my poor horse has found shelter.”
    She drew away and bit down a sigh. “You are very lucky, my lord. You could have been killed.” She wound the cravat around his head.
    “Well, there is no wife or children to mourn me,” he said cheerfully. “Do you have family?”
    “Yes, my father,” Horatia said, unable to lie about such a thing.
    “No siblings?”
    “No, but I wish I did.” A sister or brother would be a great distraction for her father.
    “And your father. He works with horses too? On the same estate?”
    “Yes, the same place.”
    “And you work well together?”
    “Most times; one doesn’t always agree with a parent, does one?”
    He chuckled. “ Non . But most times?”
    “Yes. My father is a fair man. He’s kind and wishes the best for me.” Horatia realized this was true. She had not behaved well, and a sense of shame washed over her. She could ruin his life if she was found out. If she escaped censure this time, she would not risk it again.
    “There, all done.” She tied the cravat ends and moved away.
    He climbed to his feet, looking rakish and handsome in his white turban, rather like a fine sketch