Gallant Waif by Anne Gracie (best ereader manga .TXT) 📕

little imp. Then his anger had started to change. It had become a hunt. And when he’d caught her, felt her small, panting body against his, all his frustrations had come to the fore…

Hell, she needed a lesson, but he’d never intended to hurt her like that. He couldn’t get the memory of her eyes out of his mind. For a moment, before she had taken in what he had said, he had glimpsed the shyest, sweetest glow in her eyes as they had blinked up at him, her senses still reeling from the impact of his embrace. Jack would never forget the way that tender glow had died, replaced by anguish and deepest hurt…

She hadn’t deserved that. He clenched his fist and slammed it down on the arm of the chair. Hell and damnation, she should have known better than to accost him when he was drunk. But she had felt so sweet in his arms, so sweet and warm and trusting. And he hadn’t been able to bear it, knowing that it was impossible. So he had turned nasty to drive her away before it was too late. He groaned again.

He punched the arm of the chair once more, then punched his leg, taking bitter satisfaction in the pain it caused him.

In the sanctuary of her bedchamber, Kate lay across the counterpane, a damp and crumpled handkerchief bearing testimony to bitter tears. She lay, staring at the faded wallpaper, her breath racked by an occasional shudder—all that remained of her terrible weeping bout. She felt oddly calm now, the calm after the storm.

For the best part of the year now she had done her utmost to remain quite aloof from other people, cutting herself off from feeling more than the most superficial day-to-day emotions. The decision, she now realised, had been rooted in fear, fear of being hurt again, fear of being rejected.

And she had been right to fear.

What did you mean about my eyes?

Only that every time I look into them I want to do this—

And his kisses were everything she’d ever dreamed of— and more. For better or worse she was irrevocably in love with Jack Carstairs.

All her resolutions, all her biblical recitations, all her frantic planning to the contrary had been nothing but desperate attempts to deny the truth to herself. She recognised it now. The damage had been done well before she was truly aware of it.

At first, she hadn’t seen the danger in him, despite his attractiveness. She’d just felt happy that her skills were needed at Sevenoakes. But his interfering ways had unsettled her—their quarrels had left her exhilarated, infuriated and gloriously alive. But it was more than just physical attraction, she knew. The quarrels were due to his protectiveness. She’d tried to reject it but, for a girl who’d rarely experienced it, protectiveness was a very endearing quality in a man. And when she’d recognised his pain she couldn’t help but respond to it despite her resolutions to stay aloof. And by the time she’d realised how deeply entangled with him her emotions had become it was far, far too late.

She had tried. . .but then he’d kissed her. And with the inevitability of a flower responding to the warmth of the sun she’d opened her heart and let herself feel things for him that she had never felt for another person.

She loved him.

. . .every time I look into them I want to do this— Jack could not know how much those words had meant to her. When anyone else looked into her eyes, they saw her dead mother—her father, her brothers, Martha. Even Lady Cahill looked at Kate and saw her mother.

But Jack only saw her, living, breathing Kate. And with Jack, only with Jack, her eyes brought her kisses. And in his arms, being kissed, she had offered all that she was and all that she could be…

And he had thrown it back in her face.

It hurt, unbearably badly. She felt utterly crushed.

Chapter Ten

Next morning Kate rose early and went down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast as usual. She had come to several firm decisions in the night. She had allowed herself too much freedom with Jack—she was only his housekeeper. She should not have tried to interfere with his life, no matter how good her intentions. She should never have allowed herself to feel any emotion for him—it was inevitable that she would get hurt. She’d been living in a dream world and it had to stop.

She was never going to let anyone—not Jack Carstairs, not anyone—affect her emotions like that again. She would control it all much better in future, rebuild the walls of ice she had made around her heart in Lisbon. She had allowed Jack Carstairs to melt them. This time, she would build them stronger. She had already started the process during the long, sleepless night which had just passed. She could feel the chill of it surrounding her already. Inches thick. It might be cold, but it was also painless.

Kate put the coffee on, then stiffened as she heard unmistakable uneven footsteps coming towards the kitchen door. The door opened. There was a long silence. She could feel his eyes boring into her. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him.

“I owe you an apology, Miss Farleigh,” said Jack. “I had no business saying those things to you. I did not mean them and I regret them very deeply. I also forced myself upon you in the most disgraceful manner. It was unforgivable.” Kate blinked. Damn him, damn him, damn him! He was utterly sincere. She felt a distant sensation of ice melting all around her. Oh, damn him!

He continued, “I do not ask you to forgive me, but I do hope you will at least accept my humble apologies. I assure you, nothing of that kind will happen again.”

Kate had a lump in her throat. “Mr Carstairs, it was not entirely your fault. It. . .it is no