Nights in White Satin: A Loveswept Classic Romance Read Online Free Page A

The plant …”
    Forcing himself to attend his grandmother, he said, “It is a violet. Dame’s violet. It’s a crucifer, see how the petals grow crosswise?” He pointed to a near-identical flower. “That’s it again with its white flower.”
    Lettice swept her hand around the raised stone banks. “And all these are wildflowers? They’re so beautiful. Not like the usual fat roses and petunias in a garden, but wispy and ethereal.”
    “They’re harder to cultivate than the roses and petunias,” he said, watching several bees buzz lazily around a blue sow thistle. He was grateful the conversation had turned to gardening. If Jill had affairs, that was her business. He certainly had no claim. And therefore he had no interest. Satisfied his emotions and libido were in check, he added, “Wildflowers will grow anywhere you don’t want them to, and nowhere you do. How long has she been divorced?”
    He clamped his jaw shut, but too late to stop the unexpected and unwanted curiosity. So much for a lack of interest.
    “About a year and a half. No children, thank goodness.” Then she said the words that put him out of his misery. “Jill is a sensible girl. I’m sure men have been few and far between since the divorce. How is the farm doing? Shouldn’t you be working on whatever broke down?”
    “That was fixed. I arranged my schedule to spend a little time with you this morning, Grandmother, and now you’re complaining.”
    “And how much is ‘a little time’? she asked.
    “Breakfast?” he said, thinking of the hapless manager he’d hired. He was beginning to wonder if Grahame was right about the man’s abilities.
    She chuckled. “I’ll take it. I ought to complain about your neglecting me, but I know how important this manor is to you, dear.”
    Rick raised his eyebrows in surprise. His grandmother usually gave him a lecture about his not pursuing a service career like his father. “Hiding away with the sheep,” was her usual comment. He opened his mouth to ask when the miracle had occurred, then immediately shut it. One should never question a miracle, he thought, just bask in it.
    Hearing a noise, he glanced up to see Grahame coming out of the terrace doors, carrying what looked to be the entire family silver. Jill followed with a tray nearly as loaded.
    “What the—” Rick bit off the curse and strode across the lawn to the terrace. Daisy followed.
    “Thought you might like a continental on the back terrace, Yer Lordship,” Grahame said, “nowthat you’re around to appreciate it.” He set the tray down on the white wrought-iron table.
    “I agree, but you shouldn’t have Jill carrying this.” Rick reached for her tray, intending to take it from her. But his fingers met her cool, slender ones as he grasped the handles. A sudden warmth leaped between them. His blood slowed as he gazed into her incredible eyes, wide now with emotions he couldn’t define. He was tempted to stroke her delicate cheek; to cradle her head in his hands, her slender body in his arms.
    Reality intruded instead, and he lifted the heavy tray out of her grip. She smiled her appreciation, and he smiled back.
    “You’re quite right, Grahame,” he said, forcing himself to turn away from her. “It has been a long time since I’ve taken breakfast on the terrace.” He set the tray down on the table with the other one. “I know you have a lot to do, so I’ll play ‘mother’ and pour.”
    Grahame looked nonplussed at the agreement and dismissal. Good, Rick thought. His long-time friend was getting a little too cheeky in his old age.
    “Scoot, dog,” he said to Daisy, as she hovered. He helped his grandmother into a chair, then scowled as Grahame beat him to offering the same assistance to Jill. He settled for taking the seat beside her. Daisy lay down at his feet, like the proverbial rug she was.
    As he turned to ask her if she would like coffee or tea, her air of fragility and sensuality captivated him once more. The