Free The Ideal Bride by Stephanie Laurens Page B

why, with him, her senses simply seemed to know. More, why they leapt, hungry to experience the solid, powerful strength of him, greedy for his nearness. She’d been sliding her hand onto his arm and stepping close for days—she’d told herself she needed the nearness to capture his attention and direct it, but had that been her only reason?
     
      She’d certainly never craved close contact with any man before.
     
      Looking up, she smiled in easy apology. She would have stepped back, but his arm suddenly tightened about her waist, supporting her, gathering her close as if she’d been in danger of falling.
     

  She gripped his arms. Her heart lurched; her pulse accelerated.
     
      Eyes widening, she looked into the blue of his—and for one minute couldn’t think, wasn’t truly sure what was going on…
     
      They were intent, those sky blue eyes of his; they searched hers— she returned the favor. To her surprise, she couldn’t fathom what was passing through his mind.
     
      Then his lips curved easily; his hold on her slackened and he set her on her feet. “Are you all right?”
     
      “Yes, of course.” She could barely breathe, but smiled her thanks. “I didn’t see you there—the sun was in my eyes.”
     
      “I was just coming to ask how Elizabeth was.‘’ He waved toward the bow. ”Geoffrey’s growing anxious.“
     
      “In that case I’d better go and set his mind at rest.” Resisting the urge to claim Michael’s arm, she turned.
     
      Only to have him offer his arm. Inwardly shrugging, she took it in her usual trusting, close, and confiding way, the way she’d been dealing with him for the past days. Regardless of her susceptibilities, until he definitely lost interest in Elizabeth it would be wise to maintain that level of interaction—the better to steer his perceptions.
     
      “Has she recovered?”
     
      They strolled down the deck. “She’s considerably better, but I suspect it’ll be best if she remains in the cabin until we reach the landing stage.” She met his gaze, could read no overt concern there, nothing more than polite inquiry. “If you could lend her your arm then, I know she’ll be grateful.”
     
      He inclined his head. “Of course.”
     
      Michael steered her to where the others sat grouped in the lee of the forecastle. For most, the day had gone well—even Geoffrey had enjoyed the outing, his only anxiety being Elizabeth ’s well-being. Caro assured everyone Elizabeth was largely recovered, with her usual tact smoothed over the incident, then refocused the conversation away from Elizabeth ’s indisposition.
     
      Leaning against the yacht’s side, he watched her. Wondered. She refused Ferdinand’s offer to stroll about the deck, settling instead between his aunt and the duchess to exchange reminiscences of the Portuguese court.
     
      An hour later, the yacht was tied up at the landing stage. The company disembarked; with expressions of goodwill and thanks all around, they piled into the waiting carriages.
     
      Elizabeth   and Caro were the last of the ladies to attempt the gangplank. Together with Caro and Edward, he went down and helped Elizabeth , still weak but determined to maintain some dignity, up the stairs to the main deck.
     
      At the head of the gangplank, Elizabeth paused and very prettily thanked Ferdinand, apologizing for the inconvenience she’d caused. Caro stood beside her; waiting behind Caro, Michael noted that the appropriate words came readily to Elizabeth ’s tongue. Caro was not tense or expectant; she wasn’t anticipating any need to have to step in and assist.
     
      Ferdinand bowed and made the best of it, smiling and gallantly waving aside Elizabeth ’s apologies, his dark gaze shifting to Caro’s face as he did.
     
      Then Edward took Elizabeth ’s hand and stepped onto the gangplank; Elizabeth followed unsteadily. Caro stepped aside and let Michael move past her; he followed