Captive Hearts Read Online Free Page B

into a social quagmire before the ink is dry on the marriage contract, Katherine. How do you feel about that?” She fought to keep the surprise from her expression.
    Her feelings had never been taken into account before. “I do not suppose it matters how I feel about it, Captain. It seems to be an unavoidable situation. But they cannot make you part of the entertainment, if you refuse to allow them to.”
    One well-arched black brow rose and a speculative light leaped into his eyes. Katherine looked away. For all the confidence she tried to portray, fear ran in ever tightening circles in the pit of her stomach. She folded her arms against her waist as nerves danced along her skin intensifying the chill inside the coach.
    Matthew frowned. “Where is your cloak?”
    “I left it behind in Edward’s coach. Hannah, my maid, will bring it along.”
    “It’s cold, come share mine.”
    She turned to look at him. He held the folds of the heavy wool garment open. His long coat edged in black satin piping hung open. His dark blue satin waistcoat clung to his lean torso, accentuating the breadth of his chest and flatness of his abdomen. With something akin to awe, she took in the long line of his body slouched against the seat, his legs spread before him, his feet planted firmly upon the floor. A melting heat spread low in her belly. Her heart fluttered like a bird attempting to take flight. The foot wide span between them seemed too short a distance—and too long. She became aware of Talbot and Clarisse watching the exchange, and her cheeks grew hot.
    Matthew slid over closing the distance between them.
    His arm went around her waist drawing her firmly against him. He draped the fabric of his cloak around her.
    The heat of his body clung to the garment, enveloping her in warmth. The defined musculature of his chest lay beneath the hand she placed against his waistcoat. Her breast pressed into the curvature of his ribs and the rest of her body from waist to knee aligned with the length of his. His musky manly fragrance overrode the heady scents of soap, leather and wood smoke. He smelled of vanilla and spice and heat. She swallowed against a tide of emotion she had never experienced before. She felt safe yet threatened. She wanted to burrow against him, yet wanted to break free and run. When he grasped her hand and held it against his chest, she felt too addled to protest. The gentle sway of the coach rocked them against one another. She pressed her thighs together mortified by the empty ache that twisted between them. Dear God, was everything she felt written on her face for Lord and Lady Willingham to read?
    “As angry as you are with him, I would urge you to be careful when dealing with Lord Rudman, Matthew.” Clarisse’s brows puckered with worry. “Until you are aboard your ship and on your way home he will be waiting for any excuse to imprison you again. To have his
    wife prefer another man must surely be a blow to his pride, if not his heart. He has a reputation for holding a grudge to the death.”
    The soft womanly feel of Katherine’s breast against Matthew’s ribs distracted him. She smelled of sun warmed violets and woman. Her narrow waist exaggerated the full thrust of her breasts, or from the feel of her against him, perhaps not. He rubbed his thumb against the calluses on the pad of her palm. It surprised him that her hands were marred. Only physical labor of some kind could have created the thickened areas. And he had never seen any lady do more than raise a teacup.
    “Being able to hold a grudge is something Lord Rudman and I have in common.”
    He felt Katherine’s stillness. He looked down at her, but couldn’t see her expression.
    “Revenge is a double-edged sword, Matthew.” Talbot shifted, his white brows drawn together in a fierce frown.
    “The possibility of losing as much as you gain is too great.”
    “I don’t have any plans to do anything rash, Talbot.” He struggled to relax the taut