Forbidden Read Online Free PDF

say good night, or good-bye. But she didn’t want him thinking she was the sort of girl who slept with someone she just met. He seemed to sense her indecision.
    “Just for cake,” he said. “You have my gentleman’s promise.” He used his index finger to draw a cross over his heart.
    A gentleman’s promise? She remembered the things those girls had said back in the pub. Was he the sort of man to break a promise? Or just a girl’s heart?
    Take a chance , a little voice whispered inside her head. He’s a risk worth taking, at least tonight. If she did let him inside, she’d get to spend more time with him. She didn’t want to let him out of her sight, not until she’d figured him out. She’d always loved puzzles, and this strange, sexy man was more of a puzzle than anything she’d ever seen.
    “Okay. But just for a few minutes.” She let him follow her inside. It was large for a dormitory room, with a tiny kitchen counter against one wall and a small bathroom. Flicking on the one overhead light, she took the bakery box from Tristan and set it on her desk before turning around to face him. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d think of the world she’d built in the few short months she’d lived here.
    The walls were a pale, eggshell white, and she’d covered most of them with posters of famous British people. Tristan eyed one above her bed.
    “Lord Nelson? Good God, that sure explains your drink tonight at the Pickerel.” He burst out laughing. “What is it like to wake up to that each morning?” The rich sound of his amusement warmed her insides all over again, and she started laughing, too.
    “My father got it for me as a joke, and I loved it. I thought he deserved a place of honor.”
    The throaty laugh that escaped his lips was husky this time. “Above a woman’s bed is certainly a place of honor.” His gaze roved over her full-sized bed, with its dark royal blue and white fleur-de-lis pattern.
    Simple and elegant. Just like him. He’d look so good on my bed. The thought made her blush.
    It was the first time she’d really let herself go there. When she’d dated in high school, she’d never let herself think about sex. It was pointless to build that connection with someone when her father might be transferred to a new location at any time, and they’d have to pack up their lives again. But she wasn’t going to be moving for the next three years. Maybe now was the time to give it a chance.
    Tristan stripped off his coat and laid it over the back of her desk chair. She had a brief moment to admire his body from behind, the lean lines of his legs, the broad, muscular shoulders outlined by his sweater, before he would notice her staring. The man was gorgeous. Too gorgeous. It was intimidating, yet she didn’t want to look away.
    She was still staring when he straightened and faced her. Oh, what he could do to her with that body…Tristan was making her feel a little crazy. Okay, really crazy. She wanted to touch him, to put her hands on his chest, feel that heat she remembered from the pub, and kiss him again. God, she wanted to kiss him, and it almost made her hurt with hunger.
    “How about we taste that cake?” He grinned almost lazily, as if he’d known she’d been thinking sinful thoughts.
    “Uh…right.” She dug through her cabinet and found a pair of blue plates, a knife, and two forks. She cut two slices and held one out to him.
    He didn’t take his plate right away, instead reaching into the bag from the bakery and retrieving the little packet of candles. He nestled one on the top of her slice.
    “You don’t need to—”
    “Of course I do.” He produced a small lighter with a silver crest embossed on it and flicked it on, the flame sparking as he put it to the wick of the candle. The crest matched the one engraved on the gold signet ring on his left hand.
    Another part of the mystery. What sort of man wore a signet ring? Given what she knew about history, especially