The English Lord's Secret Son Read Online Free PDF

charm. She had the window wound down
so she could feel the breeze against her cheek. This was a muted world of soft
pastel shades, and a totally different quality of light . Even the underlying colour schemes were different. She was used to such a
flamboyant palette.
    Just when she thought it was all plain sailing, the engine of
the little hire car gave a cough, then a splutter. She urged it onto the verge
where it quietly died.
    “Blast!” Cate hit the wheel with both hands. Clever she might
be at maths, but a car mechanic she was not. She looked ahead, then back.
Nothing coming. She could lock the car, then proceed on foot. She couldn’t be
that far off her objective. But what about getting back again? She got out of
the car, setting about lifting the bonnet to have a peer inside. Perhaps the car
had overheated and she could restart it after a while. She heard a vehicle
coming along the country road behind her. She didn’t turn around, trusting
whoever it was would stop. Help out a young lady in distress. The English were
mannerly helpful people. Or so she’d been told.
    The resonant male voice when it came wasn’t in the least
solicitous. It was unmistakably a young man’s voice, but it proclaimed the
legendary public-school accent—Eton? Harrow? Maybe modernised a bit.
    “Think you can handle it?”
    She found herself bridling at the tone. It was shocking in its
languidness. “Clear off,” she muttered, risking she would be overheard.
    He pounced. “I did ask a question.”
    “Really!” She spun around, shocked by the level of aggression
that tone had provoked. “And I’m asking you one.
What’s so funny? Do you want to help or are you just being bloody-minded?” Of
course he was. She could spot it.
    He gave her an extraordinarily beautiful if condescending
smile. Humour the girl. Beautiful white teeth, perfectly even and straight. She
felt all her nerve ends clench. “Exaggerating, aren’t you?” he asked ever so
slowly, at the same time taking her in. “I only enquired if you can handle the
problem.”
    She couldn’t mask the irritation his persona engendered. Such
feelings had never attacked her before. He was as handsome as the devil. Those eyes ! She had never
seen eyes so intensely blue . Sapphires set in
coal-black lashes. A wave of jet-black hair flopped down onto his high forehead.
His skin faintly dewed with perspiration was very fine, lightly tanned. He had a
nose disagreeable to her. An aquiline beak , the bone as straight as a blade. You could get
impaled on it. He was using it to good effect looking down it at her. Some girls
would really fancy him. Most would actually. “I’ve never met with a problem up
until today,” she told him shortly. “A less than efficient hire car, in fact a
bit of a rattle trap. Steering a bit wobbly. But it’s been okay up to date,
which doesn’t explain why the engine suddenly died on me.”
    “Would you allow me to take a look?” he asked, mock super
suave. He wafted an elegant hand in the air. The Scarlet Pimpernel dressed like
a gardener, square shoulders, narrow hips, tight jeans, navy jersey, a red
kerchief tied loosely around his neck for a bit of dash, high muddy boots.
    Cate didn’t rush to answer. “Know about cars, do you? I didn’t
catch your name?”
    “Nosey Parker,” he said, moving to stand beside her. Suddenly
she was dwarfed when she wasn’t all that short: five-four.
    She knew she was being terribly ungracious, but her feelings of
hostility were expanding by the minute. “Suits you,” she commented.
    From peering into the car, he stood to attention running his
vivid blue eyes over her flushed face. Eyes that sparkled and snaffled her up.
She preferred soft eyes. Gentle, humorous eyes. Brown maybe. “Have you been
drinking?” he asked.
    She couldn’t ignore that. “Right! You can smell the fumes, can
you?”
    “You could have stopped off at The Four Swans,” he answered,
continuing to study her keenly.
    She might have