Free The Reckless Bride by Stephanie Laurens Page B

softens and screens like a veil, all mystery and illusion.” She raised her gaze. “I didn’t notice earlier that we can see all the way to the mountains.” The moonlight glimmered on the distant peaks, turning the snowcaps pearlescent. “They look so fantastical in this light, as if they guard some magical faraway place that only intrepid travelers will ever see.”
    He’d turned his head to look at the mountains. From the corner of her eye, she saw his lips quirk.
    Eventually, he spoke. “Those are among the highest mountains in Europe, but after seeing the Himalayas, these look like mere hills.”
    “You visited the Himalayas?” She didn’t have to fabricate her interest. “What were they like? Are they as majestic as people say?”
    Rafe smiled. “More. They’re … intensely impressive. The sort of sight that literally leaves you breathless.”
    “Did you see them in winter or summer? Are they ever without snow?”
    Shifting to face her, he answered her questions—letting his eyes drink in her face, her expressive features just visible in the moonlight. He kept his tone even, his answers factual, and resisted the building, welling urge to reach out and draw her near. Nearer. Much closer. Until he could feel her warmth, her curves, against him.
    But as that couldn’t be, he could at least distract her. He knew all about not being able to sleep.
    So he talked and she listened. She was good at that, at giving her complete attention to something—in this case, him. Or at least his memories. Her fixed attention was some consolation.
    Eventually, she sighed. She glanced around. Contrary to how he was feeling, she seemed more at peace.
    After a moment, she looked at him and smiled. “Thank you for talking with me. I believe I can sleep now.” Her smile deepened a fraction as she turned away. “Good night.”
    “Good night.” If she noticed his farewell was a trifle gravelly, she gave no sign. He watched until she disappeared down the stairs, then, regretfully accepting that he couldn’t follow her, turned back to stare at the river.
    Regaining her cabin without incident, Loretta stripped off her pelisse, then sat on her berth and unbuttoned her boots. Falling into her bed, she dragged the covers over her shoulders.She lay on her back staring at the ceiling, wondering why she felt so … light.
    So at ease.
    All they’d done was talk about scenery.
    Closing her eyes, she saw him in her mind’s eye, standing against the rail in the moonlight. She felt her lips curve….
    And fell asleep.
    The next afternoon, Loretta was sitting in a deck chair on the observation deck embroidering in the weak sunshine when Rafe drew another chair up alongside and dropped into it.
    After a moment, she glanced at him. He’d stretched out his long legs, leaned back, and closed his eyes. But she caught a glimmer of blue beneath his lashes.
    “Strange,” he murmured, “but I hadn’t taken you for the embroidering type.”
    She smiled and looked back at her work. “I don’t embroider much usually, but during this trip I’ve frequently given thanks I remembered to pack my embroidery bag. When she’s not actively doing, Esme is relatively quiet—she’s not a big talker.”
    “How do you come to be traveling with her? Is she your only relative?”
    “Oh, no. In fact, until she came and whisked me away on this adventure, I hadn’t seen Esme in years.”
    “But she’s your great-aunt.”
    “Yes, but she’s led a very active life. Her husband was a high-ranking diplomat and he was sent all over Europe to represent our government at this court or that, and of course Esme went with him. He passed away last year, and Esme was stuck in Scotland sorting out his estate until recently. To celebrate the end of that, she decided to visit many of the cities where she and Richard had spent time—hence this trip.”
    “And she chose you to accompany her? You must be her favorite great-niece.”
    “No—just the one who could