Free Bewitching in Boots by Lila di Pasqua Page A

hugged her. “You’ll help me tomorrow, then?” She purposely changed the subject, not wanting to distress Claire further.
    Claire pulled back, a small smile on her lips. “Yes. Whatever you need, I’ll do.”
    “Good. We’re going to show the King that Tristan is as capable as he always was to command the Guard.”
    Until today, Tristan had been avoiding his former men. Elisabeth could make no sense of it until Gabriel had confided that it was a matter of pride. She couldn’t believe Tristan actually thought he’d been diminished by his injury. That he’d truly believe the King’s foolish physicians and their ridiculous notions about his being unfit.
    Or that Tristan would take to heart the King’s misconceptions.
    It only made Elisabeth want to see Tristan’s reinstatement all the more.
    There was only one man fit to command the King’s elite corps, standing head and shoulders above any other candidate, and that was Tristan de Tiersonnier, Comte de Saint-Marcel.
    The door opened. She pulled away from her sister and turned toward her visitor.
    Tristan had walked into the room, filling it with his commanding presence.
    Her heart swelled with joy.
    Even with his cane, he still moved with a certain masculine grace that made her pulse quicken.
    “Forgive me, I thought you were alone, Elisabeth.” His rich sensual voice was like a warm caress down her spine. She loved how he spoke her name. There was such sinful promise to it. It swamped her senses and made her feel dangerously reckless and out of control. As much as that unnerved her, it also had a certain astonishing allure. At the moment, she could barely keep from throwing herself against his chiseled form and claiming his mouth.
    “I was just leaving,” Claire said after exchanging pleasantries with Tristan, and left the room.
    A half-smile on his lips, he approached. Her insides danced with excitement. He stopped before her and slipped his fingers under her chin. “Have I kissed you good morning?” he asked.
    She couldn’t hold back her smile. “Yes.” He’d done a lot more to her than kiss her that morning.
    “Good. Because it’s afternoon.” Then his lips were against hers, his tongue possessing her mouth, and her arms by their own volition drew around him. She moaned.
    She could make him a good wife. He would make her an excellent husband.
    She’d failed to convince him to keep the workers and gardeners she’d sent, but she couldn’t fail in any part of her plan tomorrow.
    This hunt was too important.
    So much hinged on its success. Briefly, she wondered if she should wear her lucky boots. Then Tristan’s hand caressed the curve of her breast and her thoughts turned as heated as her body.

Chapter Six
    Claire peered into the streaming river at the water’s edge. “Have I told you how much I don’t like this idea?”
    The sun was high in the sky. Standing in the glen, Elisabeth could hear the voices and laughter coming from the King and his party as they drifted down into the narrow valley. The hunt had ended an hour ago. Elisabeth and her entourage had arrived just in time for the feasting and gaiety that were afoot.
    Tristan was up there. It had taken well-placed words and kisses to convince him to join the escort that would take her to the picnic after the hunt—not that she minded the kissing. Or the amorous encounter that ensued. Only when she lay weak from the second intense orgasm in a row did he advise her—with the most devilish smile—that he’d had every intention of seeing her personally delivered to the hunt all along.
    How could any woman be angry at a man who was so wickedly charming and had just melted her with his carnal talents?
    “Yes, Claire, I believe you’ve mentioned it more than a dozen times.”
    Leaving his château that morning had been the most difficult thing she’d ever done. She’d come to adore the crumbling stony structure. It too had charmed her as much as its handsome lord. In short order, it had