Read Moonglow for Free Online Page B

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    His nostrils flared as if scenting her, and he suddenly grinned outright, a wolfish grin that set off tremors of alarm in her belly. “Liar,” he said. “I can almost taste your wanting, it’s so thick in the air.”
    And then she knew; he’d been toying with her as well. Her pulse jumped, but she merely returned his look with one of bland disinterest, refusing to lose this game. “You, sir, are a bore.”
    Something near a growl rumbled deep in Northrup’s chest. “If this is you bored, I cannot wait to see you excited.”
    Slowly, oh so slowly, the blunt tip of his finger lifted to trail under her sleeve and along the bare crook of her arm with infinite care. Goose bumps rose in its wake, a pleasurable chill that had her yearning to lean into the warmth of his lean, strong body. Why did it have to be this man who made her breath quicken?
    She smacked the finger away and stared into his too-blue eyes. “Do not mistake me for some witless hen who follows whatever cock is thrown into the roost.”
    His chiseled features froze for a moment and then a smile slowly spread over his mouth, lighting him up from within. Dimples pulled at his cheeks, and Daisy caught her breath.
No, she would not be moved.
    “Cock?” he intoned, a hairbreadth from laughing. Blue eyes twinkled. “My dear, I’m the wolf.” He leaned in, bringing all his tempting warmth and masculine strength closer. His voice rumbled over her skin. “I eat the hen,” he murmured, “before I carry off what’s left of her.”
    She laughed. She hadn’t meant to, but she could not stop it from rolling out, full and thoroughly unladylike. Lord Northrup scowled down at her, his expression so put out that she laughed again.
    Daisy fought for a breath. “I’m sorry. It’s only… You are so… practiced.”
    “Practiced,” Northrup repeated faintly, his fine features twisting into a male glower. He wiped a tired hand over his face. “Well,” he muttered as he slumped back against the settee, “if that doesn’t drive the final nail in the proverbial coffin.”
    Her laughter died as abruptly as it had started, and sheturned away from him. Daisy blinked up at the ceiling and suddenly a tear leaked from her eye. She whisked it away but he had seen. Something shifted in his eyes. “Ah, now, lass,” he whispered.
    “You must think me a lunatic,” she said.
    His voice stayed soft and soothing. “You have no idea what I’m thinking.”
    She continued to gaze up at the coffered ceiling. “I always do that. Laugh when I ought to cry, cry when I ought to laugh.” She shook her head and a curl fell over her eye. She was too weary to bat it away. “My father died last year. When I heard the news, I just laughed and laughed.” A sigh left her. “I loved him, despite his faults, but I…” Daisy turned and gave Northrup a watery smile. “It wasn’t until a week later that I cried. Ridiculous, isn’t it?”
    How she wished she could truly cry now, the messy bawling sort of cry. She felt it bottled up within her throat, but it wouldn’t break free. The dead deserved tears. She was making hash of everything this night.
    Northrup settled down in a comfortable sprawl of long limbs and then looked up at the ceiling as she had done. “Oh, I don’t know. My father was murdered. When I heard the news, I did not cry, didn’t say a word actually.”
    Northrup’s words tugged at her memory. Archer had known his father. The mad woman who chased after Archer had killed old Lord Rossberry, Daisy realized with a jolt. She cleared her throat and tried to sound calm. “What did you do?”
    Northrup turned his head to peer at her. “I shagged a dozen whores.”
    “All at once?” she muttered, which made him laugh. Flushing, Daisy looked away, but she could feel hisknowing smile. Unfortunately, his nearness and the heat of his body made him impossible to ignore, or to stop from picturing him engaging in the act. She flushed again.
    “No, luv.” His