Heaven Scent Read Online Free PDF Page A

happiness. He presumed a husband was the
only chance he had of persuading her to give up the dream of
becoming a physician.
    “ I swear child, you get
more beautiful every time I see you.”
    Tarin smiled as she accepted a hug from
Isabel Sutherland. The woman was a gem herself, emanating class
from the crown of her fashionably styled mahogany hair, to the
scalloped hem of her rose, taffeta gown. She was a woman of prim
gentility, one that held the Brahmin within the palm of her
hand.
    “Isabel, you are too kind,” Tarin said,
pulling away to hold Isabel’s hands in hers. “It’s been ages since
I have seen you.”
    “Yes, I have spent the last several
weeks caring for Rafe,” she said, releasing her hands. “I have
missed all of the social events and have yet to attend one of your
seminars. I feel totally detached from the circle.” She leaned
close and whispered, “You will have to fill me in on all of the
latest gossip.”
    Tarin smiled. Isabel always made her
feel so at ease. “Your son, he is doing well?” Henry asked, as he
removed his hat and handed it to the butler.
    “Yes,” she replied, as she led Tarin
and Henry into the parlor amongst the other guests. An intimate
group of Brahmin elite were in attendance. “My son is nothing if
not a survivor.”
    “I would presume that is what has
brought him home after ten years, Isabel,” Henry said, as he shook
Patrick’s hand.
    “That and the luxury of hot baths,”
Patrick said with a grin. “He is enjoying them entirely too much –
we can’t get him out of the tub until the water is bitterly
cold.”
    “Obviously, I've arrived just in time
to defend my masculine pride.”
    Tarin glanced over her shoulder to the
open doorway. She felt her mouth drop open and remain there. While
the rest of the room erupted in quiet applause, Tarin could do
nothing but struggle to breathe.
    Rafe Sutherland was a big man, his well
over six-foot height easily making him the tallest in the room. His
strength announced him without a single word, his obvious arrogance
creating an immediate respect from those in attendance. Incredibly
handsome, his dark eyes competed with the black of his elegant
evening clothes.
    He had a commanding presence, one that
demanded her complete and utter attention. One that prevented Tarin
from taking her gaze from him as he moved to greet his
guests.
    Isabel’s palm under her chin woke Tarin
from her reverie. The woman gracefully closed Tarin’s mouth and
pulled her into a brief embrace.
    “Ladies do not stare, Tarin, and
although he denies it, he is self-conscious of his
scars.”
    Feeling the heat in her cheeks, Tarin
pulled away enough to meet their hostess's gaze. “Isabel, it was
not his scars that captured my attention.”
    Isabel’s own gaping mouth and raised
eyebrows made Tarin laugh aloud.
    She turned towards Rafe Sutherland now
standing no more than two feet away. Tarin suddenly felt
tongue-tied, her lungs heavy and desperate for air. She had not
felt so awkward since she was a child in her first etiquette
class.
    “I apologize for my tardiness,” he
said, as he joined their small circle. “I’m afraid my brother is
right, I can’t seem to get my fill of hot baths.”
    His voice was deep and smooth. It
flowed over her skin like the warm, clear water of a babbling
brook. She shivered.
    “Henry,” Isabel said, as she moved
between the two men, “May I present my son, Rafe. Rafe, Lord Henry
Worthington and his daughter, Tarin.”
    Henry pumped Rafe’s outstretched hand
as though he expected water to spring forth. Her father knew how to
conduct himself with the highest of royalty, and tonight he acted
as though he were meeting Queen Victoria herself.
    The next thing Tarin knew, Rafe’s dark,
mesmerizing eyes bored into hers. His gaze raked over her, ever so
slowly, taking his time as he blatantly perused her from the top of
her free-flowing hair to her green, satin slippers. She held her
breath, utterly helpless but to