Read Whitney, My Love for Free Online

rereading
all of Emily's letters which were hidden inside a book of etiquette. So
absorbed was she with them, that Whitney was unaware that someone was
watching her.
    Nicolas DuVille stood in the doorway with the note his
sister, Therese, had insisted he deliver personally to Miss Stone. Since
Therese had tried a dozen other ploys in the last month to put Miss Stone in
his way, Nicki had no doubt that delivering this note was a fool's errand
devised between the two girls. It was not the first time his sister had
tried to interest him in one of her giddy young friends, and from
experience, Nicki knew the best way to nip Miss Stone's romantic plans for
him in the proverbial bud was simply to fluster and intimidate the chit
until she was relieved to see him leave.
    His cool gaze took in the fetching scene which Miss
Stone had obviously planned in advance so that she would appear to best
advantage. Sunlight streamed in the window beside her, highlighting her
gleaming cascade of dark hair, a long strand of which she was idly curling
around her forefinger as she feigned absorption in her book; her yellow
morning dress was arranged in graceful folds, and her feet were coyly tucked
beneath her. Her profile was serene, with long lashes slightly lowered, and
a faint suggestion of a smile played about her generous lips. Impatient with
her little charade, Nicolas stepped into the room. "A very charming picture,
Mademoiselle. My compliments," he drawled insolently.
    Snapping her head up, Whitney closed the book of
etiquette containing Emily's letters and laid it aside as she arose.
Uncertainly, she gazed at a man in his late twenties who was coldly
regarding her down the length of his aristocratic nose. He was undeniably
handsome, with black hair and piercing, gold-flecked brown eyes.
    "Have you had an edifying look, Mademoiselle?" he asked
bluntly.
    Realizing that she had been staring at him, Whitney
caught herself abruptly and nodded toward the note in his band. "Have you
come to see my aunt?"
    To Whitney's stunned amazement, the man strolled into
the room and thrust the note at her. "I am Nicolas DuVille, and your butler
has already informed me that you have been expecting me. Therefore, I
believe we can dispense with your pretense of coy surprise, can we not?"
    Whitney stood in shock as the man subjected her to a
leisurely appraisal that began at her face and wandered boldly down the full
length of her rigid body. Did his gaze actually linger on her breasts, or
was it only her confused imagination that made it seem that way? When he was
finished inspecting her from the front, he strolled around her, considering
her from all angles as if she were a horse he was thinking of purchasing.
"Don't bother," he said, when Whitney nervously opened the note. "It says
that Therese left her bracelet here, but you and I know that is only an
excuse for us to meet."
    Whitney was bewildered, embarrassed, amused, and
insulted, all at the same time. Therese had said her brother was arrogant,
but somehow Whitney had never imagined he'd be this horrid.
    "Actually," he said, as he came around to stand in front
of her, "you are not at an what I expected." His voice held a note of
reluctant approbation.
    "Nicolas!" Aunt Anne's gracious greeting relieved
Whitney of the necessity of replying. "How lovely to see you. I've been
expecting you-one of the maids discovered Therese's bracelet beneath a
cushion of a sofa. The clasp was broken. I'll get it for you," she said,
hurrying from the room.
    Nicki's startled gaze shot to Miss Stone. A smile
trembled on her lips as she lifted her delicate brows at him, visibly
enjoying his chagrin. In view of his earlier rudeness, Nicki felt that some
form of polite conversation was now required of him. He leaned down and
picked up the etiquette book containing Emily's letters, glanced at the
title, and then at Whitney. "Are you teaming good manners, Mademoiselle?" he