A Breath of Scandal Read Online Free PDF

wenches shared their favors indiscriminately.
    “I’ll go fetch something for you to wear,” Lara said as she turned and fled out the door.
    Julian waited until she was gone, then slid his legs over the side of the bed. A jolt of pain shot through him, but it was bearable. Cautiously he stood, swayed, then steadied himself against the bed. He took a step. And another, until he’d walked the length of the wagon. Satisfied with his progress, he retraced his steps to the bed, sat down, and pulled a blanket over his loins, waiting for Lara to return.
    While Lara was gone, Julian studied the inside of the wagon with interest. Built on a long wagon bed, it had wooden sides and a wooden roof just high enough for him to stand. Snug and compact, the space was crammed with colorful cushions, benches, and baskets. An unlit brazier stood in one corner, and the low ceiling was draped with swaths of cloth, giving the interior a cozy, intimate appeal. A single window admitted a small patch of light.
    Lara interrupted his visual inspection when she arrived with an interesting assortment of men’s garments over her arm. “Some of these belong to Rondo and some are my grandfather’s,” she explained. “You haven’t met Pietro yet, but you will. He’s bringing shaving gear for your use.”
    Julian sorted through the clothing and chose a pair of baggy twill trousers, loose white shirt, and red vest that matched the waist sash.
    “Do you need help?” Lara asked.
    “I think I can manage on my own.”
    He stood. The blanket slid away from his loins but he thought nothing of it. Gypsy women weren’t noted for their shyness. ’Twas a well-known fact that they were more knowledgeable in the ways of men and women than English ladies of good birth, and were no strangers to men’s bodies.
    Lara tried to look away but couldn’t. She’d seen Drago’s body before, but he’d been ill and unable to do for himself. He looked different now. Trying to keep her eyes above his waist, she concentrated on his face. His hair was thick and black. His eyebrows were steeply arched and oddly elegant. His thickly lashed eyes were the color of a midnight sky. Her gaze settled on his unshaven cheeks and chin, and she wondered how he would look without the beard.
    Her gaze strayed downward, over his broad shoulders and wide chest. A mat of dark hair sprouted around his flat nipples and continued in a diminishing line down his corded stomach to his … She sucked in a startled breath. She’d seen his manhood when she’d taken care of his needs, but suddenly it had taken on a life of its own. It wasn’t exactly aroused, just … alive.
    Her gaze flew upward, to those incredible dark eyes, grateful that Drago seemed unaware of her flustered scrutiny and flaming cheeks.
    “Were my boots salvageable?” Julian asked as he pulled on his trousers. “I know they’re not much, but they fit reasonably well.”
    She fetched his footwear. “I cleaned and dried them. They still look serviceable.”
    When she turned around, she was relieved to see that Drago had pulled on a shirt and was winding a sash around his slim waist. She set his boots down and helped him don the vest.
    “Now you look like a Rom. After we darken your skin, no one will suspect you’re not one of us.”
    A knock sounded on the door and Pietro entered.
    “This is Pietro, my grandfather,” Lara said. Pride was apparent in her voice and in the way she looked at the older man. “Grandfather, you haven’t been formally introduced to Drago.”
    Pietro stepped forward. His piercing gaze searched Julian’s face a long moment. “You are a lucky man, Drago. If Lara hadn’t found you, you would have surely perished.”
    “I am eternally in her debt,” Julian vowed.
    “You should be. I am not enthusiastic about Lara’s choice, but if a
gadjo
pleases her, who am I to judge? Lara said you wish to shave off your beard.” He didn’t wait for Julian’s reply. “Sit down, I will do it for