Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride (Scandalous Seasons #1)(27)

Emmaline’s smile stretched wide, as she displayed a row of pearl-white teeth and one slightly angled, yet highly endearing front left tooth. She accepted the work proffered by the rotund little man as gingerly as if the Archbishop of Canterbury had offered her the Holy Grail. Turning it in her hands, she studied the cover, and said something to Miss Winters, who laughed, and accepted a second copy from the shopkeeper.

The man bowed and continued down the aisle, leaving the ladies alone.

The furtive glances his betrothed continued to steal only heightened Drake’s intrigue. What could she be up to?

Battlefield experience had shown him the importance of having the upper hand.

“Lady Emmaline, Miss Winters, what a pleasure seeing you both!” he called out.

A squeal of surprise rent the quiet hum of the empty bookshop followed by a thump as the book Emmaline had been holding fell to the floor. The novel tumbled open, and landed indignantly upon its spine, the title still concealed.

***

Blast and double blast!

She’d rather have ripped her hair out one strand at a time than have him find her here. After all her chance-meetings with Drake, this would be when he happened upon her.

“Lord Drake, what a pleasure to see you,” she lied.

Emmaline saw his lips moving but didn’t pay attention to his response. All her focus remained on the book at her feet. She peeked out the corner of her eye at Sophie. She dared hope Sophie had formulated a plan to recover the volume without attracting Drake’s notice, for Emmaline was stymied.

In attempt to distract him, Emmaline favored Drake with her most winning smile and stuck the tip of her satin slipper out as she tried to drag the leather volume toward her.

Drake’s jade eyes fell to her extended foot.

So much for her winningest smile.

“Please, allow me,” he insisted.

Like hell, she silently fumed. She made one last valiant attempt to collect the novel but he bent down to rescue the source of her quandary.

“No need. I have it, my lord.” She bent over just as Drake did. Their heads met with a loud crack.

“Oomph,” Emmaline gasped. The world rocked from under her and she would have splayed in an inelegant heap at his feet, but Drake’s arms were already out. He expertly righted her, rescuing her before she crashed to the floor and cradled her slender frame against his sculpted chest.

Emmaline’s breath caught. The press of his body against hers left her incapable of formulating one coherent thought. All she could comprehend was the absolute and total heat of his touch, the scent of sandalwood clinging to his person, tantalizing her senses.

Sophie sighed.

It would appear Drake heard it, too. As though Emmaline had spiked thorns along her forearms, he set her from him with alacrity.

She hated that her whole body should go on alert the moment he entered the same room, when he remained impervious to her. She might as well be a matronly relative. No…he probably would treat matronly relatives with far more regard than he showed her.

Sophie stammered her pardon and scurried down another aisle. Emmaline wasn’t certain if her friend was either: one, allowing her time alone with her betrothed or whether two, she sought escape before he discovered their scandalous reading habits. Which reminded her…

Emmaline made one more attempt to retrieve the work, but alas her betrothed had the reflexes of a lightning strike. He intercepted her efforts, and rescued the volume, holding it aloft, well beyond her reach.

A single, strand had escaped Emmaline’s neat chignon during her exertions and hung over her brow. She blew the lock back and folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll take that, my lord.”

Her eyes were drawn to the slow smile that quirked one corner of his lips. Drat the man. He seemed far too amused by this exchange. She briefly contemplated snatching the volume from his hand and dismissing him without a further word. Based on his earlier speed, any effort she made to retrieve it would prove ineffectual.

“Hmmm, what have we here?” he wondered, and lowered the book to eye level. His smile widened and he revealed a row of perfectly white even teeth.

Of course he would have perfect teeth, she thought, promptly snapping her mouth shut. She’d not allow him to see her own imperfect row, the way her front left tooth angled slightly over its right counterpart. Her brother had forever teased her over it, and it had always been a source of insecurity. She could only imagine what her betrothed would think about it.

Drake glanced at the title.

At any other place, at any other time, Emmaline would relish the levity of their exchange. Not, however, at this particular moment. Her reading preferences were an exceedingly intimate part of herself that she did not want to share. He very well may be her betrothed, but he was still a veritable stranger.

He blinked several times. “This is what you’re reading?”

Emmaline did not like his emphasis on the word, this. “I’ll take it now, my lord,” she said. She held her hand out, and waited for him to turn it over.

Drake ignored her and opened the front flap of the book. His eyes scanned the words, and then snapped in her direction “This is what you are reading?” There was a measure of haughty disdain in his words.

Annoyance blossomed inside her chest at the way Drake kept repeating himself. “You needn’t sound so…so…incredulous.”

Drake closed the book and shook his head. “Gothic novels. This is where your interests lie.”