Enchantment & Bridge of Dreams Read Online Free PDF

cupping the lush curves beneath.
    Draycott felt beads of sweat break out on his brow. “Perhaps we should discuss terms now, after all,” he muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from that erotic shadow.
    From the dusky, upthrust nipples tormentingly outlined against the thin lawn.
    â€œOh, not yet, surely. I’ve so much more to show you, my lord. And you will show me that pretty painting of yours in return, won’t you? I’ve heard so much about it.” Kacey managed a husky giggle. “I just can’t wait to tell all my friends I’ve seen it!” Her fingers slipped lower, tugging the white shirt free of the waist-band of her jeans.
    Draycott had to struggle to hear anything she was saying. Painting? Good sweet Jesus, she was the painting! A perfect Botticelli masterpiece. He could look at her forever, he thought dimly.
    â€œYou do remember the painting,” Kacey prompted, her voice a sultry caress. “In the long gallery, isn’t it?”
    â€œThe painting,” he repeated mechanically. “On the fourth floor.” He had to tell her to stop, Nicholas thought.
    He had to tell her not to stop.
    Her full mouth curved in a blinding smile, and the sight was like a shaft of sunlight plunged right into his heart.
    He wanted to see her smile like that always, the Englishman thought. When she awoke, her hair tousled on his pillow. When he slipped off her clothes and plunged deep inside her.
    When he felt her convulse in wild, breathless passion beneath him, whispering his name.
    Dear God, what was wrong with him? Had he lost the last ragged shreds of his sanity?
    â€œNow you listen to me, young lady,” Draycott began, feeling priggish and a complete fool.
    She didn’t listen.
    Instead, her slim hands drifted down to the last, tantalizing button of her shirt. A secret smile on her face, she began to inch toward him. “Oh, I’m listening, my lord. You have my total attention, I assure you.”
    Draycott couldn’t have moved even if the stables were on fire and the roof falling on his head.
    Which in a way, they were, at least as far as his screaming senses were concerned.
    Her eyes challenging, the beautiful intruder slipped past him. One hand trailing across his tensed shoulders, she teased the bunched muscles at his neck. The faint scent of gardenias rose from her warm skin, inundating his senses. Tightening muscles already taut past enduring.
    She was all woman—all soft, yielding desire. She was the fire that lit his restless nights, the dream that tormented his lonely days.
    His breath hissed out with the nearness of her. He felt her slip around him, then draw close to his back. He was on fire with wanting her; he was driven by an infinite need to touch her.
    In every way that a man had ever touched a woman—and then some.
    He was—
    Falling?
    With his next heartbeat, Draycott was spinning down, his legs kicked straight out from under him. Gasping, he hit the cold cobblestone floor, breaking his fall with knees and wrists. What in the name of bloody everlasting hell?
    He cursed harshly, struggling to stand, fighting the raw agony radiating from his kneecaps. He was still cursing when he heard the doors to the stall slam shut behind him. With a sharp thump, a piece of wood was wedged between the handles on the outside of the door.
    â€œEnjoy your evening, Lord Draycott,” the woman outside said sweetly. “I’m afraid it will be rather colder than the night you had planned, but maybe you’ll learn something in there—not that I count on it overly much. Oh, and don’t hold your breath waiting for Cassandra to send down another restorer. You’ve had your chance, and frankly, you’ve just blown it.”
    Fury swept through Nicholas—fury at his own stupidity. Fury at her cunning.
    Fury at how much he wanted her still, in spite of everything.
    What would the little bitch do now?
    Exactly what she’d