A Dangerous Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

capricious heart
pulled her on toward disaster, as she realized she loved the
sound of her name spoken in his rough, rumbling voice.
    Suddenly, she was afraid. This man was dangerous.
    She had to make him understand as quickly as possible and
return to the safety of her home. "I know my father is forcing
you to marry me, but if we stand together and refuse-"
    "You know nothing of the sort. I am marrying you for your
dowry and for no other reason"
    "-but if we stand together and refuse," she persisted. "We
can make him understand that we cannot possibly suit. Or
perhaps I could simply cry off. Then the blame will be all
mine." The words left her mouth before she thought through
the implications. Her father would be furious.
    Dark brows shot up. "You would jilt me? Becoming a
duchess does not appeal to you? I assure you, it is a most
sought-after prize."
    "It has never been one of my dreams," she said, unable to hide the disgust in her voice. "I want to wed a quiet country
gentleman and live a quiet country life."

    His nostrils flared as he leaned toward her, closing the little
distance remaining between them. "And do you have a beau,
Leah? A tender lover waiting for you at home in the country?"
    "Yes, but I-"
    A ruthless gleam lit in his eyes. "Do you fancy yourself in
love with your swain?"
    Throat constricting, Leah nodded.
    "And have you given yourself to him?"
    "I ... I do not know what you mean-"
    "I mean, have you given him the gift of your virtue?"
    His vulgar words cut through the mists of attraction.
    She longed to send her palm swinging toward his cheek,
but she had degraded herself enough simply by coming here.
She would not degrade herself further.
    His face was scant inches from hers.
    She could clearly detect the scent of strong spirits on his
breath. Why hadn't she noticed this before?
    Because you were too busy gaping at his good looks, she
thought in disgust.
    "Have you?" he snarled.
    Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth. "How dare you
insult me so?"
    "I think, perhaps, you protest too much"
    "I think, perhaps, you cannot think at all. You are disguised, Your Grace. And you are disgusting."
    He lowered his head until his mouth was just a breath away.
"I'm not too deep in my cups ... Leah" Her name escaped
on a whisper as he touched his lips to hers.
    Oh, he was wicked to kiss her like this, his mouth moving
hot and hard over her lips. Sanity warned her to push her
hands against his chest and demand he release her, but she
found herself unwilling, unable, to do so.
    His arms slid around her, his large hands pressing into her spine, drawing her closer until her breasts were crushed to his
chest. Instead of pain, she felt a strange, tingling ache, a physical longing, a yearning unlike anything she had experienced
before. The scorching heat of his kiss was like fire licking
over her skin. This was more than a mere touching of lips.

    This was a claiming. A branding.
    A soft sound escaped from her throat, and he pulled back,
staring into her eyes as if searching for answers to questions
unknown, before possessing her lips once more in a kiss so demanding, the world spun away, and all she could feel were
his lips on her mouth, hard, yet supple, unrelenting. Then,
oh, God, dear God, his tongue was in her mouth and it was
beyond anything she had ever imagined.
    This was passion, this onslaught of sensation. Her hand
rising, stroking his hair, finding it surprisingly soft, sensuously smooth against her fingertips. His scent, jasmine and
amber, filling her senses. His breath, hot and sweet with a
faint taste of honey blending with spice. An ache burning low
in her belly. She clung to his shoulders.
    She did not understand her pull toward this man, but there
was something so right about this moment, something so powerfully moving. Then everything changed, as his kiss grew
more urgent, more reverent, more moving, and his hands
traced her cheeks, feathered over her jaw, until he