Free The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy) by Diana Douglas Page A

at him. Not just laughing, but rolling on the floor with a sidesplitting bout of uncontrollable laughter. This was his just reward for being such a randy buck who couldn’t keep his hands off women. If he thought she was tempting before, now she was ravishing. Her hair had begun to dry and reddish gold tendrils curled about her face and heavy copper waves streamed down her back. His green velvet dressing gown was much too large for her but she had cinched it tightly at her waist and the length of it swirled and puddled about her bare feet. His throat went dry. She was covered from neck to toe but judging by the various articles of clothing laid out to dry she was naked beneath and that thought was enough to put the starch in his loins that he was trying so hard to avoid.
    “Oh, good. You’ve found a brush.” She crossed the room to take it from him.
    “And a comb,” he added hoarsely.
    She frowned. “Have you come down with something so soon? Your throat sounds terribly scratchy. Maybe I should make you some tea.”
    He cleared his throat and picked up the bottle he had brought down earlier and poured whiskey into his glass. “I’m fine. But I’m afraid that Lady Fitzberry and the rest of your household will be frantic. I wish there was some way to let them know that you’re safe.”
    She sighed heavily. “I know. I’m sorry, I got you into this. It’s a dreadful inconvenience. I shouldn’t have gone riding today.”
     Yes, you should have stayed home, he thought. But he couldn’t make himself say it. “The storm was sudden. There was no way to know it would be so severe.”
    She swept her hair over her shoulder and tugged the brush through the snarls. “I’ve managed to salvage the fruit, some of the cheese and a little of the chicken. But the bread and pastries are a soggy mess. If this goes on too long we may get hungry.”
    He wanted to laugh. With all the difficulties they were in, she was concerned about the state of their stomachs. She had to realize what a fix they were in. But no, he wouldn’t think of what they would have to face when he brought her home. She was right. Their basic needs were most important. They had managed to find warmth and shelter. Supper was next on the list. “I’ll set the food out while you do that,” he offered.
    “Wait a minute.” She reached for the blankets. She quickly spread them out on the floor in front of the fireplace and then went back to brushing her hair. “It should be warmer next to the fire. You don’t mind sitting on the floor do you?”
    “No. Are you hungry?”
    “Ravenous.”
    “Silly question on my part.” He set their meager fare on a low table close to the fireplace and then selected a pear. “I’ll trade you,” he said as he handed her the fruit. “You eat and I’ll see if I can get some of the tangles out of your hair.”
    “Thank you.” She bit into the pear, laughing as the juice dribbled down her chin. “It’s wonderful.” She held it up to him. “Do you want some of it?” Her cheeks were flush from the heat of the fire, her eyes the same emerald as his robe. She licked the juice from her lips. She was beyond tempting. This was a mistake. If he so much as touched her hair he would be lost.
    He threw the brush down and swore softly.
    She looked at him in surprise. “Are you angry with me?”
    Instead of replying he cupped his hands beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. Her eyes were bright; her expression one of anticipation. She was utterly and completely irresistible. He softly kissed the tip of her nose, her mouth, tasted the sweetness of the juice on her lips. “Do you want me to stop?” he murmured.
    She shook her head slightly. “No,” she said softly. “I don’t want you to stop.” The pear dropped to the floor and her arms went around his neck. His mouth covered hers and he kissed