The Forbidden Innocent Read Online Free PDF

path, enjoying the fresh air and space of the countryside and thinking how
quiet
it was when compared to the city.
    And then something intruded into her consciousness—some slight movement which must have registered at the corner of her eye. Looking up towards the manor house, she felt her heart skip a beat because there—framed by a curved gothic window and silhouetted likesome towering statue—stood the dark and brooding figure of Jack Marchant. He was completely still, as motionless as if he were part of the house itself and yet, even from this distance, Ashley could feel the icy burn of his eyes as he watched her.
    She felt her heart miss a beat. Had he gone looking for her—eager to start work—only to find her strolling around the grounds, running her fingertips over frost-glazed branches like a simple fool?
    She hurried back towards the house, hoping to be able to tidy herself and be installed ready to start work before he came downstairs. But she hoped in vain, for she opened the kitchen door to the gentle hiss of a coffee machine and the comforting smell of toast.
    Jack was standing there, his strong hands cupped around a steaming mug as he stared out of the window over the kitchen garden. For a moment, she stood and drank in the view, taken aback by the domesticity of the scene—and by the infinitely more disturbing image of his hard, high buttocks encased in faded denim. His bare feet gripped the cool grey flagstones and his dark hair curled over the edge of his collar.
    She had never seen a man in such an intimate setting before and it made her feel acutely self-conscious. Ashley swallowed, trying to clamp down her rising excitement and the sudden frisson which skittered over her skin. There seemed something almost indecent about the sight of his toes and the unexpected glimpse of bare flesh. The warmth of the kitchen was seductive—but not nearly as seductive as the hard gleam from his eyesas he turned to look at her. Did he notice the sudden tremble of her mouth, and wonder what on earth had caused it?
    ‘Good morning,’ she said, a touch breathlessly.
    ‘Ashley.’ He said her name softly as he saw the high rise of colour to her cheeks and the way her hair spilled down over her shoulders this morning. Her lips gleamed where she must have licked them and he found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss them, even as he acknowledged how impossibly young she looked. ‘Are you always up so early, taking walks?’
    Still feeling a little light-headed, she shook her head. ‘Not really. The last place I was living in wasn’t really the kind of place you’d go out walking—not at any time of the day. But as I was awake.’ She peeled off her frosty coat and thought how tired he looked. His features were strained with fatigue and his black eyes were shadowed by blue smudges beneath.
    ‘Sit down,’ he said.
    ‘Thanks.’ Something about the way he was looking at her was making her feel ridiculously weak and she was grateful to be able to slide into one of the chairs which surrounded the scrubbed oak table.
    ‘Did you sleep well?’ he questioned suddenly.
    She hesitated. She supposed she could lie and tell the polite fib. But what would be the point? Surely he must have realised that she’d heard him as he had paced the corridors? ‘Not terribly well, no.’
    ‘Oh? Did something keep you awake?’
    His voice was studiedly casual but she felt torn asshe met the question in his eyes. If she lied, simply to gloss over things—mightn’t that enrage him and make him think that he couldn’t trust her to tell the truth? And wasn’t honesty important to her—more important to her than pretty much anything else? ‘Actually, I heard footsteps. Pacing the corridor.’
    For a split second his face darkened and Ashley felt a moment of disquiet as she looked at him. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned it after all. But just as quickly the look had gone and was replaced by one of curiosity.
    ‘So