Duchess 02 - Surprising Lord Jack Read Online Free Page A

but that didn’t help. The image of his tall, lean, powerfully built body with its broad back and wide shoulders was imprinted on her eyelids like a candle flame she’d stared at too long.
    At least he wasn’t completely naked. A pair of flannel drawers covered his narrow hips.
    “Don’t be afraid, lad. I won’t hurt you.”
    The words were soft, the tone one might use with a skittish horse on the verge of bolting.
    She’d like to bolt, but he was standing between her and the door. At least he had a pleasant, educated voice—and he hadn’t yet discovered she was female.
    He chuckled. “You’re acting a bit like a turtle, don’t you think? You may pull your head into your shell, but I can still see you.”
    He was right, of course. She forced her eyes open.
    Mistake. He was still virtually naked, and now he was facing her. She’d never seen an almost naked man. Muscles shaped his arms; brown hair sprinkled over his chest, narrowing to a line down his flat stomach to—
    She snapped her gaze up to his face. Oh God, if she’d thought Mr. Littleton handsome, she’d much mistaken the matter. Littleton had been merely pretty in a weak, over-cosseted way, like a pampered housecat. This was a tiger.
    Hazel eyes, fringed with ridiculously long lashes, studied her.
    She dropped her gaze to the coverlet. His beautiful eyes were far too direct and uncomfortably probing. If she wasn’t very, very careful, he’d discover her secret.
    “I really won’t hurt you.”
    Ha! That was likely what the tiger said to the . . . what did tigers eat?
    Anything they wanted to.
    Why the hell wouldn’t he put on his clothing? Ah, finally he reached for his breeches.
    If she tilted her head just slightly, she could watch his muscled legs slide into—
    What was the matter with her? He was only a man, a breed she’d never been especially enamored of and now had vowed to avoid entirely.
    An almost naked man . . .
    That must be the problem. There must be some sort of animal magnetism at work. Perhaps that explained why so many supposedly intelligent women were willing to give their lives over into a man’s keeping. With luck, he’d dress and leave quickly.
    She pushed herself to sit, feeling slightly more in control in that position.
    “The Findleys think you’re too young to go up to London by yourself,” he said.
    “I’m not.” Of course, she might not be going anywhere if Daisy was lame. This entire undertaking was one disaster after another.
    He lifted a brow but didn’t argue the point. “They want me to see that you get safely to your brother.”
    “What?!” Blast it, she’d squeaked like a girl.
    He only smiled. “You are young, aren’t you? What are you—thirteen? Twelve?”
    She wasn’t going to discuss that. “I can’t travel with you, sir. I don’t even know your name.”
    “Well, that’s easily remedied.” He stepped closer. His chest was just inches from her now. Was the hair on it soft or wiry? It looked soft—
    Damn it, where was his shirt?
    “I’m Jack Valentine,” he said, and extended his hand.
    Oh God, the rake!
    She shouldn’t be surprised. The man exuded seduction the way most men sweat. He could probably scratch his arse and women would swoon.
    He did have a very nice arse . . .
    She should not be thinking about the villain’s bottom.
    “It’s a hand, boy,” he said, speaking in that soft, almost gentle tone again, a tone that made her insides melt. “Take it. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
    She could well believe whatever seduction he promised wouldn’t hurt. He could probably make even the Almack’s patronesses do whatever he wanted.
    “Frances Haddon,” she said, finally laying her hand in his.
    He shook it firmly, his grip warm, dry, and strong, and then released her. Her palm tingled. She’d never touched a man’s ungloved hand before.
    “How did you get to the Crowing Cock, Master Haddon?”
    Why wouldn’t he put on his shirt? “I rode, sir.”
    “A long