Miss Debenham's Secret: A Husband Hunters Club Book Read Online Free PDF

hands.”
    She relaxed and he arranged for their carriage and horse to be stabled at the inn and then helped her into the boat with the picnic basket. Before long he had cast off and they were tacking out of the little harbour and into the green water of the English Channel.
    It was a beautiful day. Clarissa enjoyed herself, hardly worrying even when the little boat heeledover with the wind gusting in her sail, tearing through the waves with white spray raining down upon them.
    “Is this what it’s like when you’re at sea?” she asked, raising her voice above the flap of the sail as the boom swung around. She’d quickly grown adept at ducking low out of the way.
    “Sort of,” he called back.
    But it wasn’t, or rarely. Life on a naval sailing ship was very different from this and he didn’t want to tell her some of the unpleasant things he’d had to face, with rations low and the men muttering sedition and the captain drunk. Much as he loved the sea he did not look forward to facing the men again this time, with this captain. But he knew he would have to, and if he could do well, if he could make his fortune as some men did, then he would be set for life.
    Whatever life he chose.
    But to leave the sea? That would be a difficult decision, and one that didn’t bear thinking about, although one day he knew he must, but by then he hoped to have enough to retire comfortably in a cottage somewhere by the sea. Somewhere like Lyme perhaps.
    They’d been sailing along the coast and there, almost parallel with them, was a sandy inlet. He turned the boat toward it and soon ran her up onto the shore. The tide was on the turn so they should be all right for a while.
    Once the boat was secured Alistair went to help Clarissa. In the end it seemed easier to swing her into his arms, to save her shoes; her clothing was already quite damp from the journey but she would soon dry.
    Beneath the blue sky they sat among the shelter of some rocks and ate their picnic, while the water washed against the sand and the salty breeze stirred Clarissa’s fair hair. They chatted but there were long silences when it didn’t seem necessary to say anything.
    Being in each other’s company was enough.
    He would miss her, Alistair admitted to himself. She had become an integral part of his life here in Lyme. Perhaps, if he were honest, that was the reason he was still here and not visiting London or his sister in Hampshire.
    “Will you write to me? When you’re gone?”
    She wasn’t looking at him when she spoke, but out to sea. He could see her profile and he thought there was a sobriety to her expression that made him think she would miss him too.
    “Yes, of course I will.”
    A smile curved her lips.
    “And you must write to me,” he added, and saw her eyes widen as she turned to him.
    “Must I? I mean, I would like to, but there is so little that happens here that  . . . I mean, you will find anything I have to say all very tedious, Lieutenant McKay.”
    “But I want tedium.” And when she laughed, he added, “Believe me, Clarissa, some days tedium would save my life.”
    Her smile faded and she reached to touch his cheek with her trembling fingertips.
    And suddenly Alistair was kissing her.
    Just as he’d promised himself he would not.
     

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Alistair’s lips on hers were firm and she found herself returning the caress without a second thought. It seemed so natural he should kiss her and that she should kiss him back. She could taste salt on his skin and the lemonade she had brought for their picnic; her arms went around his neck of their own accord and the kiss deepened.
    She liked the way his tongue moistened her bottom lip and then dipped inside her mouth as if he were enjoying her taste. She allowed herself to copy him and an ache started in her chest, a tingle of warmth that made her suddenly languid and sensuous.
    Was this what it meant to love a man? To give oneself to him?
    He’d lain her down upon