The Naked Prince Read Online Free

gurgling sound. “Trust me, Papa doesn’t spare my sensibilities.”
    â€œI think you do him an injustice. I’ve found him to be far more perceptive than I would have guessed, especially from hearing my father’s stories.”
    Miss Atworthy stopped dead and stared at him. “Are you sure you’re talking about my papa?”
    He laughed. “Well, it did take me a little while to puzzle out who J.A. was.”
    Her face lost all its color, and she seemed to be having difficulty breathing. “J.A.?”
    â€œJosiah Atworthy.” Was she a complete widgeon?
    â€œAh.” She was still staring at him with her mouth slightly ajar, an almost panicky look in her eyes.
    â€œYour father wrote to me last year to comment on one of my articles in The Classical Gazette , and we started a correspondence.” He frowned. She definitely looked as if she was about to swoon. He shifted his hold to support her elbow. “I say, are you feeling quite the thing?”
    â€œI’m f-fine.” She cleared her throat. “Can you tell me—I know it’s a silly question, but I’m curious—how did you sign your letters to Papa?”
    â€œWith my initial.” Her color did not look good at all, though his answer seemed to reassure her.
    â€œOh. ‘W,’ for Weston, then?”
    â€œNo, ‘K,’ for Kenderly.”
    â€œAh.” Her lips wavered into a smile, and then her eyes rolled up and she collapsed into his arms.

Chapter 3
    If it were truly possible to die of embarrassment, Jo would have expired on Lord Greyham’s front drive.
    She stared up at the bed canopy in one of Lord Greyham’s guest bedchambers. She’d not been able to escape her humiliation; she hadn’t even been able to maintain a nice, insensate swoon. Oh, no. She’d come to her senses— all her senses—almost immediately and had been completely aware of the servants and guests staring at her and whispering about her as the Earl of Kenderly carried her up the stairs and into this pleasant bedroom.
    Jo covered her face with her hands. Yes, she’d been aware of the onlookers, but she’d been even more aware of Lord Kenderly—the strength of his arms; the broad, hard plane of his chest; the solidity of his shoulder where she rested her head; the firm line of his jaw with the faintest shadow of stubble against his snow-white cravat; the deep blue of his eyes. When she’d buried her face in his coat to hide from all the people staring at her, she’d breathed in his scent, a mix of clean linen, eau de cologne, soap, and man.
    And when he’d laid her on the bed . . .
    She bit her lip to stop a moan from escaping.
    Dear God, she’d wanted to pull him down on the bed with her. She’d locked her hands behind his neck and held on a moment too long; he’d had to reach back and disengage her fingers to free himself.
    The next moan would not be muffled. She flipped over and buried her face in the pillow.
    The prince she’d fashioned out of air had stepped into her life, and he was far more perfect than she could ever have imagined. Her dreams tonight would be much more detailed than ever before.
    And he’d kissed her. Heavens! Her very first kiss. She’d been almost too shocked and disoriented to appreciate it at first. Had he actually put his tongue in her mouth? It should have been disgusting, but it hadn’t been—not at all.
    And then she’d tried to kiss him back. He must think her a complete hoyden or worse. What if he—
    â€œMiss Jo.”
    â€œEek!” She turned over and sat up so quickly her head spun. She pressed her fingers to her temples and blinked at the short, round girl who’d come into the room. “Oh, Becky, you gave me such a turn. What are you doing here?”
    Becky stared at her as if she’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “I work here; ye know that.”
    She did know