Love is a Battlefield: Games of Love, Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

her back to ensure she was steady on her feet.
    But she didn’t feel steady. Not on her feet. Not anywhere. This man was strong. He was strong and hard all over—marble, chiseled to perfection and placed on an altar right there for her to worship.
    It would be easy to do, to worship this man, placing herself at his feet and waiting for a benevolent smile. She shook herself. What was she thinking? A little dangerously dark stubble and a crooked smile, and she started weaving dreams out of thin air. But she was Kate Simmons. She did what she was told. She fell in love with fictional characters. She lived in a world of her own making because the real one simply couldn’t compare. Tearing her gaze away, she busied herself in looking around the other half of the park.
    It was just as worthy of her adoration—possibly even more so. In front of them spread a huge open space in the shape of an oval, large enough to hold two or three football fields end to end. No one had made an attempt to fill the space with anything other than grass and the natural wildflowers—this time of year mostly lacy white yarrow and bright yellow blanket flowers—so the result was both simple and breathtaking. The bluff’s edge was fenced off by an expanse of rough wooden beams, and on the opposite side of the field sat a second parking lot bordered by a series of large boulders.
    Julian was right. The real draw was the ruined mansion located on the far end of the field. She turned to him. “That’s where you played?”
    He nodded.
    Kate couldn’t imagine anything better. The foundation, once the base for a large castle-like building with twin spires on either end, was still fully intact. The top floors had long since crumbled, leaving jagged piles of heavy gray stones everywhere, some still a story high. She could see precipices and little caves, hiding spots for treasures or even a game of hide-and-seek.
    Her own childhood hadn’t held any of this magic. Here, disarray reigned with a heavy hand, and Mother Nature obliged. Kate’s house, in comparison, had been an ordered box of beige carpets and soft pink walls. Throw pillows covered every horizontal surface, but they were not to be touched by little girl hands. Nothing in that house was to be touched by little girl hands, but playing outdoors had been equally out of the question, unless it was on the tree swing in the backyard and her father was on hand for the photo opportunity.
    “It’s perfect,” Kate said, clasping her hands together. And it was. There was space enough for all the tents and walkways she envisioned. The JARRS ladies already had a string quartet booked for Friday and Saturday nights, and caterers had been instructed as to the exact menu planned: thinly sliced ham and plenty of sherry. During the day, they were going to have a few lectures from local history professors, a Jane Austen book reading and booths set up selling many of the gowns and accoutrements that made the Regency era so much fun. And it was all set for the weekend of August sixteenth—Georgette Heyer’s birthday. The grandmother of the Regency novel, and one of Kate’s favorite authors of all time.
    “It is perfect,” Julian agreed softly.
    Kate turned to find his eyes trained right on her backside. For a brief moment, she thought he was talking about her, and a warmth flooded her breasts and belly at the thought of being so objectified and appreciated by a man of his caliber.
    But she was mistaken, as always. As soon as she turned around, Julian began walking toward the parking lot without a second glance.
    “We should go back this way,” was all he said.
    Kate nodded and caught up with him. Julian walked beside her, but there was a large gulf between them. Something had shifted, and he no longer felt compelled to offer her his arm or jump forward to save her from stumbling over a stone. Which she did. Twice.
    “Well, hey there, you two,” Jada called as soon as they moved into view. She and