The Perfect Kiss Read Online Free PDF

real?” he asked softly. His voice resonated through her. To her surprise he didn’t smell dirty at all, just a bit horsey, which wasn’t surprising. And very masculine.
    She pushed back at him. “Stop that at once! There’s been a coach accident! ” she reminded him in as stern a voice as she could manage.
    “But nobody is hurt,” he said and kissed her. It was swift and hard but Grace felt it right through to her very bones.
    He released her and stood staring down at her, a blank look on his face. “Now that I didn’t expect,” he murmured. “Or was it perhaps, a fluke?”
    Grace tried to step away from him, reeled and staggered. There was something wrong with her legs. She clutched his arms to steady herself. He was hard and warm and very strong.
    Thunder rumbled across the skies.
    It jolted her back to reality. She rallied, pulled back, wiped her mouth, and glared at him. Realizing she still held on to his arm, she used it to tug him toward the door. “There has been a coach accident .”
    “Yes, you said. Nobody is hurt and they are stuck in the coach, out of the rain. And in the meantime, I just need to check something.” And he kissed her again, a brief, hard kiss that—again—sucked every coherent thought from her brain. And—again—when he released her she was dazed and dizzy.
    “So,” he said on a long note of discovery. “Not a fluke at all. Well, who’d have expected that?” He steadied her, smiling.
    The smile was the essence of male satisfaction.
    She kicked him hard on the shin.
    The smile widened. “Ouch,” he said softly, conversationally.
    She kicked him again, harder.
    “It would have more effect if I weren’t wearing boots,” he said in an apologetic tone.
    She thumped him on the arm. “Listen, you impossible gypsy! There has been a coach accident and—”
    He gave a start of theatrical surprise. “ A coach accident? Well, why didn’t you say so?” And before Grace could say another word he’d seized her hand, whirled her out of the door, and started to run. Grace found herself practically flying over the ground, panting and slipping, taking two paces for every one of his.
    “So, after this is over, will you give me the good scrubbing you promised me?” he said as they ran. The look he gave her scrambled her brains for a moment.
    “No!” she gasped as she flew down the driveway. Her feet barely touched the ground.
    “No? Oh well.” A slow grin cracked across his dark, unshaven face. “Let me know when it suits you, then.”
    As they rounded the bend he said, “I can see the freckles are waterproof, so I suppose they must be real.” He did not slacken the pace. He was not even breathing heavily.
    She was flabbergasted by the irrelevance of it. “Yes. Of. Course. They. Are. Real,” she lied. The freckles were an essential part of her disguise.
    “Fascinating. I’ve never seen freckles like that before—all exactly the same shape and color. I’m looking forward to discovering whether they are all over your body or only in . . . selected places.”
    He was outrageous. He had no sense of proper behavior. How dare he comment on her freckles—real or not—when they were in the middle of a crisis!
    Grace only had enough breath to glare and run. A few minutes before she had been soaked, frightened, and tired. Her whole body ached from being thrown around the rolling carriage.
    Now she was furious!
    And feeling more alive than she’d ever felt before.
    Danger did that.
    They sped down the driveway, fast enough so her feet barely touched the gravel. She was in no danger of falling; he was very strong and his big, warm hand held her upright. But he kept on looking at her. In a very insolent fashion.
    And it made her utterly furious that when she was beside herself with anxiety for her friend and her father that this—this devil should cause her to be distracted for a single second!
    As the carriage came into view he slowed in surprise. “Where are the