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the thread of conversation.  What gave you the impression that I had any interest in Miss Peyton? he
asked in a noncommittal tone.
 The fact that you nearly fell off your horse when you saw her in her drawers.
That elicited a reluctant smile from Simon.  With a facade like that, I may not give a damn about what s
beneath.
 You should, the earl said emphatically.  Miss Peyton is a selfish jade if I ve ever seen one.
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 Westcliff, Simon asked conversationally,  does it ever occur to you that you might occasionally be
wrong? About anything?
The earl looked perplexed by the question.  Actually, no.
Shaking his head with a rueful grin, Simon spurred his horse to a faster gait.
Chapter 11
As the girls walked back to Stony Cross Manor, Annabelle became uncomfortably aware of a twinge in
her ankle. She must have turned it during the Rounders game, though she could not recall the precise
moment when it had happened. Sighing heavily, she hefted the basket in her hand and lengthened her
stride to keep pace with Lillian, who looked pensive. Daisy and Evie walked a few yards behind them,
both of them involved in an earnest conversation.
 What are you worrying about? Annabelle asked Lillian in a low voice.
 The earl and Mr. Hunt& do you think they will tell anyone about having seen us this afternoon? It would
put a nasty dent in our reputations.
 I don t think Westcliff would, Annabelle said after a moment s thought.  I was inclined to believe him
when he made that remark about amnesia. And he doesn t seem to be a man who is given to gossip.
 What about Mr. Hunt?
Annabelle frowned.  I don t know. It didn t escape me that he made no promise to remain silent. I
suppose he ll keep his mouth closed if he thinks he has something to gain from it.
 You should be the one to ask him, then. As soon as you see Mr. Hunt at the ball tonight, you must go
to him and make him promise not to tell anyone about our Rounders game.
Recalling the dance that would take place at the manor that evening, Annabelle groaned. She was
relatively no, positively certain that she could not bear to face Hunt after what had happened that
afternoon. On the other hand, Lillian was right one couldn t assume that Hunt would be silent.
Annabelle would have to deal with him, much as she dreaded the prospect.  Why me? she asked,
although she already knew the answer.
 Because Hunt likes you. Everyone knows that. He ll be much more inclined to do something you ask.
 He won t give something for nothing, Annabelle muttered, while the throbbing in her ankle worsened.
 What if he makes some vulgar proposition to me?
A long, apologetic pause ensued, until Lillian offered,  You may have to throw him a bone of some
sort.
 What kind of a bone? Annabelle asked suspiciously.
 Oh, just let him kiss you, if that s what it takes to keep him quiet.
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Astonished that Lillian could make such a statement in so nonchalant a manner, Annabelle inhaled
sharply.  Good God, Lillian! I can t do that!
 Why not? You ve kissed men before, haven t you?
 Yes, but 
 One pair of lips is like any other. Just make certain no one sees you and get it over with quickly. Then
Mr. Hunt will be placated, and our secret will be safe.
Annabelle shook her head with a strangled laugh, while her heart began to pound painfully hard at the
idea. She couldn t help but remember that long-ago secret kiss in the panorama theater, the seconds of
devastating sensual upheaval that had left her shaken and speechless.
 You ll just have to make it clear that one kiss is all he may expect from you, Lillian continued,  and
that it will certainly never happen again.
 Pardon me for casting aspersions on your plan& but it stinks like six o clock fish. One pair of lips isnot
like any other, if they happen to be attached to Simon Hunt! And he ll never be satisfied with something
as trivial as a kiss, and I couldn t offer him anything more than that.
 Do you really find Mr. Hunt so repulsive? Lillian asked idly.  He s not bad, actually. I d even go so far
as to call him handsome.
 He s so insufferable that I ve never really taken notice of his looks. But I will admit that he s& 
Annabelle fell into a confused silence, considering the question with a new and unsettling thoroughness.
Objectively speaking in the unlikely circumstance that one could ever be objective about Simon
Hunt he was indeed a good-looking man. The word  handsome was usually applied to people with
highly chiseled features and slender, elegant proportions. But Simon Hunt redefined the word with his
bold, cleanedged countenance, his audacious black eyes, with the strong blade of a nose that could only
belong to a man, and the wide mouth that was forever edged with irreverent humor. Even his unusual
height and brawn seemed to suit him perfectly, as if nature had recognized that he was not a creature to
be formed by half measures.
Simon Hunt had made her uneasy from the first moment they met. Although Annabelle had never seen
him any way other than perfectly dressed and thoroughly self-controlled, she had always sensed that
Hunt was, at best, half-tamed. Her deepest instincts had warned her that beneath his mocking facade,
there was a man who was capable of an alarming depth of passion, perhaps even brutality. He was not a
man who could ever be mastered.
She tried to imagine Simon Hunt s dark face over hers, the hot brand of his mouth, his arms closing
around her& just like before, except that she would be a willing participant. He was only a man, she
reminded herself nervously. And a kiss was indeed a fleeting thing. But for the moment that it lasted, she
would be bound in intimacy with him. And from then on, whenever they met, Simon Hunt would gloat
silently. That would be difficult to endure. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]