Chaste Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

giving up when slowly they began to part. If she didn't know better she would swear someone had helped her.
    She swiped the sweat from her upper lip with the back of her hand and crawled back in bed to enjoy the view. Ignoring her aches and pains from the effort, she gazed out the large window and envisioned walking in the garden before finally falling asleep.
    Once again, she dreamed of William and found her heart aching for him more and more as though he were a real man, a real lover. She could almost feel his warm breath brushing her cheek as desire burned brightly in his deep blue eyes. The feel of his hands, the anticipation of him stroking her skin.
    She woke, cursing soundly at the definitive ache between her thighs. How could an imaginary lover seem so real? But she knew he couldn't be. Could he? Yet, she did know a lot about him for a figment of her imagination. Right down to the color of his eyes and the wickedly long dark lashes framing them. How odd.
    She lay awake for some time worrying about her sanity, when Constance whirled into the room to help her with her bath. She felt ten times better afterward. But as she climbed back into bed, questions about William and her none-too-stable mind continued niggling at her thoughts.
    If William were a real man, he wouldn't be parading around in a jerkin and breeches. But he did look awfully good in them. Very rakish and very sexy.
    Her heart skittered across her chest.
    Nuts. I need to stop thinking like that . It only made matters worse. But the more she tried to push away the tantalizing image of a sixteenth century lord dallying in her bedchamber, the clearer he became.
    For a moment, she actually thought she could see him standing in the shadows in the far corner of the room, his strong arms folded across his chest, casually leaning against the wall with a soft smile on his face. Watching her—guarding her.
    Blinking rapidly, she tried to focus on the image, but he disappeared, just like in her dreams.
    "Are you all right, sweetie?” Constance asked, as she adjusted her blankets.
    "Huh? Oh, yes. I'm fine.” She nervously watched the shadows in the corner.
    No more painkillers. It was definitely time to switch to the over-the-counter stuff.
    "You have a visitor,” Jerome said as he entered, his deep voice tinged with disgust. “Chad is downstairs. Are you too tired to see him?” His hopeful tone added to her smile.
    "Now, Uncle, I know you don't like him, but he happens to be my significant other at the moment, and I'd appreciate a little tolerance.” For a few more minutes, anyway .
    "That's all you'll get."
    "Oh, stop being such a stuffed shirt and fetch the girl's boyfriend,” Constance fussed.
    Jerome mumbled something under his breath as he left the room. Isabel noticed he was keeping a tight leash on his biting comments for a change. Maybe he and Constance would see the light sooner than she thought.
    "Thanks for helping me with my bath, Constance,” she said. “You've no idea how much better I feel."
    "You're welcome.” She arranged Isabel's hair neatly across her shoulders and gave the covers one more pat. “There, now. Pretty as a picture."
    "Thanks. Um, Constance, does Uncle Jerome's surliness ever bother you?"
    "Oh, it's just his way. But today he's been the worst. I almost think he's been avoiding me.” She frowned slightly. “You don't suppose he's really angry with me about something?"
    "No, I think he's just trying a little harder to mind his manners. Between you and me, I think he's got a thing for you.” She grinned as she watched the woman's face turn a bright shade of red.
    "Oh, that's ridiculous. He's much too handsome a man to pay any attention to someone like me.” Still blushing, she fidgeted with the bedspread.
    Constance was right about him being handsome. He didn't look his age, and he was still a virile man, but the kindly housekeeper was wrong about herself. She possessed a warm and friendly kind of pretty. The type of beauty