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Authors: Emily Bryan
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lawn. Could she ever be that wild and free?
The amused grin faded from his lips. “But I’d bet my favorite chisel every one of them bears a secret that, if you only knew it, would break your heart.”
They sat in silence for a few moments and Grace wondered what heartbreaking secret Crispin bore. He made her feel terribly…young. She’d experienced no real heartache, known no grand passion or loss.
She’d never even remotely considered leaping from a second-story window.
Her run-in with those scallywags on the Dark Walk was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. The trembles in her belly still hadn’t subsided. Now that she realized how much danger she’d actually been in, she was beginning to think adventures were not nearly so fine to have as to read about.
“About my leg,” he said softly. “The truth is, I had an argument with a large block of marble. The stone teamed up with gravity and won in a rather unfair fight.”
“Oh, my.” Her imagination painted a lurid picture of Crispin pinned beneath one of the monoliths she’d seen at his studio. If that’s what happened, it was a wonder he wasn’t killed outright. She glanced at his thigh and was glad to see that the tremors in his muscle had stopped. Then she pulled her gaze back to his face before he could notice she was taking an inordinate interest in the state of his trousers. “I’m sure it was horrible.”
“And stupid. Not at all the thing one expects from an acknowledged genius.” He shrugged. “You see why I had to invent something more in keeping with my public image.”
“You think leaping from an upper window to avoid your lover’s angry husband sounds less stupid?”
“Less stupid? I assure you it’s nothing short of brilliant. The tale secures my reputation as an incorrigible rake. It’s more than enough to earn the respect of my fellows and the fear of virgins and their mamas.” He chuckled. “How little you know of people.”
“That’s what you think,” she said. “I happen to know a great deal.”
He cupped her cheek suddenly and tipped her face up to his. “Do you know when a man is about to kiss you?”
A soft gasp escaped her mouth.
Instead of their usual burnished pewter gray, his eyes had gone dark as he looked down at her. Black as the most wicked sin. Memories of his kiss flooded through her body and a delicious shiver tickled her spine.
Actually, if she were being fair, Crispin had rescued her on the Dark Walk and even if he wasn’t the right sort to be named a hero, he still deserved a small reward. She hadn’t actually thanked him properly yet. A chaste kiss should do the trick.
The principle was clearly stated in all the best sorts of books.
Her eyelids fluttered closed and she waited for his mouth to descend on hers, warm and demanding. Her belly turned a slow flip.
Would it be as shockingly delicious as that first kiss?
She waited.
Would his tongue slide between her lips this time to search out her secrets? That’s what happened in the more wicked books.
She still waited.
What the devil was keeping the man?
She slitted one eyelid to find him smirking down at her.
“No, Grace,” he said softly. “You don’t know when a man is about to kiss you.”
Embarrassment and fury vied for first place in her heart. Fury won. Grace hadn’t wrestled and roughhoused with her older brothers as she was growing up for nothing. She pulled her arm back, ready to slap him into next week.
He caught her wrist without effort.
“So predictable.”
Grace wrenched herself away from him and stood.
“Good-bye, Mr. Hawke,” she said through clenched teeth, meaning every word. She never wanted to lay eyes on Crispin Hawke again. Somehow, she’d convince her mother that she didn’t need a sculpture of her hands to be accepted by the ton. No title, no adoring husband, not even satisfying her mother was worth putting up with this insufferable man.
She stomped away in the direction of the
The amused grin faded from his lips. “But I’d bet my favorite chisel every one of them bears a secret that, if you only knew it, would break your heart.”
They sat in silence for a few moments and Grace wondered what heartbreaking secret Crispin bore. He made her feel terribly…young. She’d experienced no real heartache, known no grand passion or loss.
She’d never even remotely considered leaping from a second-story window.
Her run-in with those scallywags on the Dark Walk was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. The trembles in her belly still hadn’t subsided. Now that she realized how much danger she’d actually been in, she was beginning to think adventures were not nearly so fine to have as to read about.
“About my leg,” he said softly. “The truth is, I had an argument with a large block of marble. The stone teamed up with gravity and won in a rather unfair fight.”
“Oh, my.” Her imagination painted a lurid picture of Crispin pinned beneath one of the monoliths she’d seen at his studio. If that’s what happened, it was a wonder he wasn’t killed outright. She glanced at his thigh and was glad to see that the tremors in his muscle had stopped. Then she pulled her gaze back to his face before he could notice she was taking an inordinate interest in the state of his trousers. “I’m sure it was horrible.”
“And stupid. Not at all the thing one expects from an acknowledged genius.” He shrugged. “You see why I had to invent something more in keeping with my public image.”
“You think leaping from an upper window to avoid your lover’s angry husband sounds less stupid?”
“Less stupid? I assure you it’s nothing short of brilliant. The tale secures my reputation as an incorrigible rake. It’s more than enough to earn the respect of my fellows and the fear of virgins and their mamas.” He chuckled. “How little you know of people.”
“That’s what you think,” she said. “I happen to know a great deal.”
He cupped her cheek suddenly and tipped her face up to his. “Do you know when a man is about to kiss you?”
A soft gasp escaped her mouth.
Instead of their usual burnished pewter gray, his eyes had gone dark as he looked down at her. Black as the most wicked sin. Memories of his kiss flooded through her body and a delicious shiver tickled her spine.
Actually, if she were being fair, Crispin had rescued her on the Dark Walk and even if he wasn’t the right sort to be named a hero, he still deserved a small reward. She hadn’t actually thanked him properly yet. A chaste kiss should do the trick.
The principle was clearly stated in all the best sorts of books.
Her eyelids fluttered closed and she waited for his mouth to descend on hers, warm and demanding. Her belly turned a slow flip.
Would it be as shockingly delicious as that first kiss?
She waited.
Would his tongue slide between her lips this time to search out her secrets? That’s what happened in the more wicked books.
She still waited.
What the devil was keeping the man?
She slitted one eyelid to find him smirking down at her.
“No, Grace,” he said softly. “You don’t know when a man is about to kiss you.”
Embarrassment and fury vied for first place in her heart. Fury won. Grace hadn’t wrestled and roughhoused with her older brothers as she was growing up for nothing. She pulled her arm back, ready to slap him into next week.
He caught her wrist without effort.
“So predictable.”
Grace wrenched herself away from him and stood.
“Good-bye, Mr. Hawke,” she said through clenched teeth, meaning every word. She never wanted to lay eyes on Crispin Hawke again. Somehow, she’d convince her mother that she didn’t need a sculpture of her hands to be accepted by the ton. No title, no adoring husband, not even satisfying her mother was worth putting up with this insufferable man.
She stomped away in the direction of the
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