Pretty Persuasion Read Online Free PDF Page B

exasperated laugh. "I don't want you to, Phillip."
    Impulsively, she leapt from her seat. The coach took a sharp turn, and the sudden lurch sent her flying. Phillip caught her, and she landed in his lap, erupting into laughter again. Her breath hitched as his arms tightened around her, and she reached to draw his head down, but he was already dipping toward her. His hat collided with her deep-brimmed bonnet, and another giggle tore from Georgie's throat.
    "Infernal thing," Phillip muttered as she tugged at the ribbons under her chin. She removed the bonnet and flung her arms about his neck. But instead of finding her mouth, his lips brushed her ear, his breath hot and shallow. "You seemed so distressed this afternoon; I could not bear to make you wait any longer."
    She closed her eyes, inhaling his familiar scent—cologne, tobacco, and leather. It smelled of stolen moments, of guilty pleasures.
    And better yet: in a few days, there would be no more guilt.
    "I'm glad you could not wait," she whispered. "Thank you."
    He responded by crushing her to his chest and lips with renewed vigor. Shifting, Georgie pressed closer, and he groaned deep in his chest. Breaking off the kiss, he shoved her gently onto the seat beside him.
    He released a ragged breath. "You make me forget myself."
    Georgie sighed—part disappointment, part relief—and then she smiled. Knowing he would stop gave her courage; their passionate embraces were a safe adventure.
    She did not deny that his appearance was what had first brought Phillip to her notice. If she had not found him attractive in body as well as in mind, she would not be eloping with him now. She had every intention of enjoying all aspects of their marriage. Though she was in no hurry to increase their intimacy, she was curious and excited enough to look forward to sharing his bed.
    And it was only to her liking that these feelings toward him could hardly be described as a grand passion. She had no use whatsoever for such sentiments.
    She rested her cheek on his shoulder and shut her eyes. His arm came around her, and she let the warmth and comfort of his body lull her to sleep as the carriage raced through the streets of Mayfair, heading toward the Great North Road and Scotland.
    THE WALLS WERE tall around her, much taller than she, and the path narrow. She could not see where she was going, but the directions were a map of words imprinted on her mind:
left, left, right, left, right…
    Right. It was right that Robert had taught her the secret of the maze. Right that she should now follow him into its heart. Right that he would someday be her husband.
    Not quite so right that there were nine years between them, and that thirteen was too young to marry. But she was not too young to love, and for two years she had loved Robert Balfour. For two years he had consumed her. She heard his voice in her dreams—the gentle but firm tones, the low, rumbling laughter. She saw his green eyes, alight and inquisitive, then dancing with amusement. She felt his presence, ever constant: his patient and agreeable manner; his singular treatment of her, as if she were special; his obvious affection.
    Her heart and soul were his, and today, her body would be likewise. This day had been a lifetime and a half coming. They'd share their very first kiss, sealing their bond and acknowledging their love. Anticipation of it put springs under her feet.
    The bright, green grass, vitalized by the mild mid-summer weather, rustled beneath each hurried step of her leather half-boots. Sunlight sifted through the thick hedges, streaking the path before her. She was not cold, and yet goose pimples pricked the back of her neck. She was not running, and yet she was breathless. She was not hungry, and yet her stomach clenched tighter with each passing second.
    A strange sound reached her ears. It resembled the mewling of a kitten and then plummeted to something deeper, a guttural moan that might belong to a creature, not quite