Kissed; Christian Read Online Free PDF Page A

offering his own, thus leading her into refreshingly direct discussions. She found she so enjoyed his company—respected him, too, for he had such noble views.
    She was nearly certain now that he was courting her—nearly because she truly had no idea how one went about a courtship—a true courtship, that was. Not one the likes of which Lord St. John had embarked upon. That, she thought grimly, had been little more than a business proposal, with herself as the article of trade. She was heartily thankful Christian had responded to her brother’s missive, for she could never have borne Lord St. John as a husband.
    Perhaps she wouldn’t have to.
    Hope surged, and she smiled, releasing the drapery. She made her way back to the bed, slipping beneath the cool blankets, and closed her eyes, unable to think of anything other than Christian. He was everything she’d imagined he would be and more: gentle but strong, thoughtful yet amusing. God had surely favored her, she reflected happily, for he was as noble a soul as ever had existed upon the face of the earth. More so than the heroes of legend, for Christian was flesh and blood, and he had come to her rescue even after having been so wronged by her father.
    Yes, indeed, he was her knight in shining armor... and she... she was the damsel in distress for whom he would battle friend and foe in the name of love.
    Love.
    Perhaps it was possible after all.
    Sighing wistfully at the fanciful notion, she sent a hasty thank you heavenward and snuggled deeply within the blankets.
    If this is a dream, don’t let me wake, she prayed.
    Sleep discovered her smiling serenely.
     

     
    “Please! oh, please!”
    A harried sigh was Amos’ response, together with a most disapproving scowl as he rifled through the morning’s correspondence. He chose a particularly large envelope, tossing the rest aside, and sprawled backward within his chair, hiding behind the envelope, as though to escape her.
    Jessie wasn’t about to give up. “Please,” she begged.
    Still he sat, peering over the top of the envelope, his green eyes, so like her own, glittering with annoyance. Jessie suppressed a shudder at the cold feeling that swept over her. “Just this once,” she swore. “I’ll not ask again!”
    He tore open the envelope with a vengeance, sighing a masterful reproduction of their father’s disapproving lament. “Very well, Jessamine. Do as you wish. Extend our invitation to the miscreant.” He didn’t bother glancing up. “Tomorrow eve, if you must.”
    Jessie stepped away from the desk in surprise, eyeing her brother with disbelief. “Yes?” Her voice caught. “You said... yes?”
    Amos gave her his full regard at last, though his expression was liberally laced with discontentment. “Can you not hear, girl? Yes! Do! Invite the cur to dine with us, if ’tis your wish, but leave me be now!” Unfolding the doubled parchment he’d extracted from the envelope, he apprised her, “And I shall, indeed, hold you to your word; do not ask this of me again.”
    Wide-eyed with disbelief and too delirious to stop herself, Jessie hurried around the. desk to give her brother an affectionate hug, the first such embrace between them in years.
    Amos recoiled from her at once. Grasping her upper arms, he peeled her from his person. “Jessamine! Please! Recall yourself at once!”
    Jessie retreated, stung. “Yes, of course. I... thank you, Amos. I-I don’t know what came over me,” she said as stoically as she was able, and then turned to go, her eyes misting.
    She didn’t know why it should surprise her so each time he rebuffed her, but it never failed to do so. And yet, this once, she had a concession from him, at least. She refused to feel dispirited.
    He’d not always been so heartless, and she couldn’t help but ponder what could have changed him so—though she had a very good idea. Their father. Always it came back to their father. His Grace the Duke of Westmoor had lived the most