Behind a Lady's Smile Read Online Free PDF Page B

looking at the soft downy hair on her cheek glowing in the early morning light, seeing beauty in every angle. Her eyelashes seemed uncommonly long, brown but tipped with a lighter color that fanned out beneath her eyes. Her brows, so expressive when she was awake, were soft crescents. Her lips. Hell, he shouldn’t be looking at her lips, not first thing in the morning when his johnson was saying a hearty hello, but he just couldn’t help himself. Her skin was sun kissed, even though she’d worn her father’s oversized hat, and her lips were soft and pink. He liked their shape, a little bow on top, fuller on the bottom, with a slight indent in the middle. He had the urge to lay a finger on that little indent but resisted.
    She had a square chin with the faintest cleft that didn’t seem to go with the rest of her delicate features, but somehow did. He wondered if that was the one thing she’d inherited from her father. She had a nice face, he decided, wishing he could capture this kind of light and beauty in a photograph.
    Millie let out a bray, as if protesting his perusal, and her eyes opened. Damn, he couldn’t breathe for about two seconds, his breath literally caught in his throat. The color of her eyes—green with shards of gold—was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen in his life. The kind of beauty you want to hold in your hand and never let go.
    It wasn’t until she smiled, open and completely innocent, that he started and pulled back, horrified by what he’d been thinking.
    “’Bout time you woke up,” he said gruffly, sitting up, achingly aware that he was a man who’d just gone a little loopy over a pretty face.
    “What time is it?”
    “Past time to get on the trail. I’d like to be going in thirty minutes. Think you can do that?”
     
    Genny sat up, every muscle in her body aching as if she’d been pummeled by some invisible giant. Her traveling companion was scowling at her, at Millie, at the sun, but for some reason it didn’t bother her. He was like one of those dogs that growled fiercely at you, then flopped down on its back and let you rub its tummy. Not that Genny would be rubbing Mitch’s tummy. Just the thought made her laugh out loud, which only made Mitch’s scowl deepen.
    “I see you are not a morning person,” she said cheerfully. “My father wasn’t either. He would be a bear, stalking around the cabin, until he had his first cup of coffee. And he’d wait for me to make it because he said I always made it better than he did. It’s true. I did.” Genny felt a stab of sadness thinking about her father and how he would compliment her every morning on his cup of coffee. “Best cup of coffee this side of the Mississippi,” he’d say. And she never got tired of hearing it. It was just one of their little rituals that she missed so much. They’d had to leave the coffee grinder behind, of course, but she’d taken the time to grind some beans for their trip.
    “I thought you English liked tea,” Mitch had said, a bemused look on his face as she’d ground the last of her beans.
    Genny wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps I’ve never had a good cup of tea, but I much prefer coffee. I do hope they have coffee in England or I shall be quite vexed.”
    Mitch had seemed amused by her taking the time to bring along coffee, but was apparently glad she had.
    “I suppose I could wait for a cup of coffee,” he said, rubbing his beard. Genny wondered what he would look like without that full and rather luxurious beard. It was a slightly lighter color than his chocolate brown hair, the kind of beard you could imagine digging your fingers into, soft and a little wavy. He stood, unfolding his long body, and looked around their camp.
    “I’ll be right back with some water and then I’ll take care of Millie. If you could make that coffee.”
    “Of course.”
    Genny hobbled about the camp on one crutch, so used to it now it was almost like an extension of her body. In the two weeks