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education because he had a hard time learning his shapes.
Rectangle, square, what s the difference? he muttered. Slow, my ass.
I d like to see Mrs. Nielson land here and deal.
Arleigh cleared her throat. Cease talking to yourself. Tis not
confidence I be having in you. Why do you think I need help?
I saw you crying. I wanted to
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Sure, Ryder, tell her you want to fuck her. Get it out in the open so there
won t be any surprises later. She ll probably throw herself into your arms
and beg for it.
to help you. It sounded lame, and he knew it, but there wasn t much
he could do about that now.
She frowned. Has Stephen spoken of me?
No, not exactly, Ryder said. Her foot tapped that haphazard rhythm
again. She glanced toward the frying pan. He reached into the pocket of his
jeans, sliding the parchment from the book. I have this.
She reached out for it, but he pulled it away.
The woman I met in this piece of paper had passed crying and moved
to decision. It should have been intimidating, but you re a tiny thing. A little
scary, but
Tis my letter! Twas not meant to be read by anyone. How did you get
it?
I found it in a book.
You have books?
Lots of books. I have one here. He dug back into his pocket and
pulled out the Keats, holding it toward her. My favorite.
She held it in her hand like a treasure, running her fingers across the
leather. She flipped to a page that had been turned down at its corner.
La Belle Dame Sans Merci, she read.
That means The Beautiful Woman Without Mercy.
I know what it means, she snapped.
You speak French?
I speak many languages, she murmured.
She held up her hand and began to read. He recited the words in his
head, standing silently and patiently, he might add, while she read. She took
a long time, but perhaps she read it twice or translated it directly to French.
How many surprises would this woman have in store for him? When she
looked up, her eyes were wide.
Tis about me, she whispered. I ve not heard of this Master Keats.
When were these words written?
He reached out and retrieved the book, stuffing it back into his pocket.
Don t change the subject. If you didn t intend the letter to be read, why did
you write it?
70 Amber Carlton
She looked down at her hand, fingers clenched as though holding a
quill. He studied her face, and that look he had seen in the vision
overshadowed her face. Heartbreaking, hopeless, melancholy, fragile. She
stood in her bare feet, in a threadbare nightgown any of his sisters would
have thrown in the trash, and yet she seemed almost regal, like a fairy
princess.
Arleigh was the most petite woman he had ever seen. His eyes dipped
toward the neckline of her sleeping gown. Quickly, he glanced back at her
face, guilty for inspecting her so thoroughly, but she had no idea he studied
her. In his world, she would have been in shampoo commercials. Her hair
hadn t been brushed yet but it was hair women would kill for. He wanted to
put his hands in it.
She raised her eyes to his, and no anger lingered there, though tears had
begun to sparkle.
Tis hard to hold secrets, Arleigh said. Writing them down is pretext
I m an honest person instead of the liar I am.
We all have secrets, he said.
Not like mine.
She lowered her lashes, and they cast soft shadows on her cheeks. He
wanted to reach across the space that divided them and take her in his arms.
He thought she would fit perfectly and tuck right into the space
Why are you looking at me like that? Tis not secrets on your mind.
Tis a look like you mean to kiss me. She reached out blindly toward the
table and her fingers skimmed along the edge of the skillet.
He held up his hands. We have a no-hitting rule, remember? I m sorry.
I don t mean to be rude or anything, but you re adorable.
She clenched her hands. Adorable? Hell, yes, but he thought she might
also be schizophrenic. He had never known anyone who could switch gears
as fast as she could. She took a very deep breath. Her breasts rose and fell,
and Ryder wondered what they would feel like under his hands.
Tis clarification we need here, Master Kendall.
Ryder, he said, peeling his gaze away from the soft skin. Call me
Ryder.
Impossible. We re not going to be that personal with one another.
He couldn t stop the grin. I m planning to get very personal with you,
Arleigh. It s one of the reasons I m here. He took a step toward her, and
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she backed up. And we re already beyond that awkward getting-to-know-
you phase. You re standing here in a nightgown that leaves very little to the
imagination, and I m eager to see more. We can do the flowers and
candlelight if you want, but I m thinking all that crap might not be necessary
between us. I m pretty much fixating on what happens later.
Arleigh clenched her tiny fists and stomped her foot. Stop looking at
me like that!
He took a step toward her, and she scurried backwards. I keep
forgetting all this is just happening for you and very painful. You were
probably in love with& my brother, and you re in mourning. My comments
are inappropriate, and I apologize.
Arleigh blinked. I wasn t in love with Stephen.
The grin seemed to have control of his facial muscles. Good to know.
And I m not going to be in love with you, either. But tis more
important to know you aren t going to be in love with me.
You re a cocky little thing. Does insanity run in your family, too?
Look, I read the letter. All about curses and love and some man coming to
claim you. That, by the way, is going to happen over my dead body.
A real possibility, Arleigh said.
Ryder shook his head. The letter read like something out of a fairy tale,
and I found it downright enchanting, but we re in the real world here, at
least I think we are. I m still debating that. You re cute as hell, but you have
issues.
What exactly are issues?
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