Emily French Read Online Free PDF

a second, he’d stepped into an illusion, allowing it to enclose him so completely that he’d felt her delight as if it were his own. And, in reality, the kind of marriage she was offering was precisely the type to which he was most suited.
    They each had something the other wanted, or needed.
    Sophy moved restlessly in her seat, hurt at his abrupt withdrawal. She wanted to leave her hand in his, warm and safe. The pain seemed to grow round her heart, but there was self-deprecation too. She should not have dared to show such foolish emotion before him. She glared at Seth as he poured fresh coffee from the porcelain pot on the cherrywood table.
    An odd smile edged Seth’s mouth as he looked into those well-spaced gray eyes. He raised an eyebrow at her and held up the pot in salute.
    “Well, Miss van Houten, it would seem that you and I have ourselves a marriage contract. I hope you consider the bargain worthwhile.” He shut his eyes in brief irritation when his leg protested angrily at the movement. He shifted position gingerly. “Would Sunday week suit you?”
    “Whenever you wish. I won’t change my mind,” she said gravely, accepting the cup he passed to her.
    Seth gave her a sharp look as though to detect levity, a slight frown hardening the lines around his mouth. When Sophy’s eyes solemnly met his fierce blue ones, her whole body went tense.
    There was something about the way he looked at her that confused her. Something shrewd. Something dangerous. The taut strain in him was etched around his eyes, making her want to lift her fingers to soothe away the lines. A nervous tremor skittered along her nerves, and she tore her eyes from his, breaking the spell.
    “I’ll wait on your uncles tomorrow to make the necessary arrangements.”
    Relieved, Seth realized his voice was even, as though he were in full command. For a moment those soft gray eyes had stirred feelings that were strange and unwelcome, yet pleasurably compelling. It was a long time since a woman had so disturbed his equilibrium.
    Sophy lowered her eyes demurely to the contents of her coffee cup. Thinking she shouldn’t even be considering the suggestion and knowing it was already starting to tantalize her, she glanced up at him through lowered lashes.
    Setting down her cup with great care, she put her small hand to her mouth, shocked by the heady notion. It would be a bold move to try to squeeze further concessions from him, but why not enter into marriage on terms favorable to the wife?
    Her mouth tilted slightly at the corners. Fortune sides with him who dares. She tried to make her voice bland. “I would like to continue with some projects I’ve been working on, maybe even undertake some new ones.”
    Seth’s eyes met hers over the rim of his cup. Sensing his annoyance, Sophy sat up a little straighter, and blinked owlishly. Her voice was a shadowy breathless sound. “No questions, no reproaches, no comments even from a husband.”
    Seth set down his cup, the firm line of his mouth hardening slightly. From the displeased expression on his face, Sophy could tell he found her demands excessive.
    Sophy blinked, uncertain of his sudden change of mood. Maybe she should compromise, just a little? She wet her suddenly parched lips with the tip of her tongue and hurried on before she lost her courage. “And I promise no tears. I’ve heard wives cry a lot to gain their points.”
    Seth’s features were forbidding as he studied her. Sophy’s jaw muscles went tight. His gaze seemed to penetrate into the very heart of her, as if he were trying to discover her deepest secrets.
    He stared at her for a moment, then he laughed. A short, sharp expulsion of air. But definitely a laugh. To his ears the tone sounded surprisingly rusty, but then it had been literally years since he had laughed out loud so spontaneously.
    “I couldn’t stand that! Anything more?” His question was more curious than anything.
    Sophy shook her head slowly. “No.”
    He