Read Wicked for Free Online Page A

fig. “A handsome man.”
    The knight laughed, a deep rumbling sound.
    If she could have stuffed the whole bag of figs, or better the whole tray of them, the whole booth of them into Edith’s big mouth, she gladly would have. Instead, she looked away for just a moment, only as long as it took to take the first of the ten steps that would get her down off the cursed wall.
    That first step was fine.
    The second step was not.
    The rock cracked and crumbled.
    She wobbled, gave a sharp squeak of surprise, then fell. It all happened too fast She closed her eyes and waited to hit the ground, her mind flashing with the wry thought that she would probably break her neck and die since she had finally found her true heart’s desire.
    But it wasn’t the ground she hit.
    She fell right into a pair of strong arms. His arms. She blinked, looking up into his face, knowing she had no time to hide the surprise on her own.
    He had caught her so easily. ’Twas as if she weighed no more than a feather.
    She took a deep breath, then another, searching for something to say. But her thoughts and words deserted her when his scent filled her nose, her mouth, her head and her heart. He smelled of clean male, rich Spanish leather, and dreams that come true.
    “She is looking for a man, is she?” His voice was so very deep, as if it came from his soul or heaven, or perhaps, she thought, after catching the dark glint in his eyes, perhaps that deep voice came straight from hell.
    She could think of nothing witty or snide to say. No quip flew from her mind to her lips. No wry thought. No jest to be made.
    Sofia Howard was tongue-tied.
    She had not thought it possible, she who prided herself on her ability to have the last word. She was not even certain she would be able to find her voice. It was as if her ability to speak flew out with her startled breath and was flying somewhere above her head and clear out of her reach.
    He never took his eyes from her as he tightened his hold on her, slid one flat palm up the outside of her thigh, pulling her gown up a little in the process. Then he said softly, “I am a man.”
    She could not look away. She could not think. She could do nothing but stare up at him for one of those lost moments when time seems to stand still.
    Speechless, witless, defenseless, she could only look into those blue, blue eyes of his, because to look at them this close made her heart beat a little faster and her breath speed up. His eyes were the color of his tunic, the same blue as the sky on a summer morn. Then she spotted something there in those eyes, a spark of amusement, then a telling look that said the arrogant devil knew exactly who she had been looking for.
    She prayed her face would not give away what she was thinking: how difficult it was for her to face this man, the first one in years whose good opinion meant something to her.
    Sofia did not blush. She never had, and she was grateful for that many times over. ’Twas something that allowed her to act brave even when she didn’t feel brave inside. Or to hide from the world what she truly felt. Like now, when she had nothing but a mask of iciness to hide the truth: she had met the one man in the world she wanted and the knowledge scared her so terribly that she was shaken clear down to her bones.
    “Put me down, sir.” She found her lost voice, and fortunately it sounded much cooler than she felt. She waited for him to obey her.
    He did nothing.
    “Now.” Her tone was sharp and she was glad.
    His expression changed, as if he wanted to say something, but he did not speak. Instead, one of his arms that held her fell away, the one that was under her knees.
    Her legs dropped like rocks. She inhaled sharply, but a moment later his other arm tightened about her back, held her hard against him, breast to chest, while her legs just dangled off the ground.
    She looked up at him, trapped against his body. She felt like a cornered animal, penned more by what those eyes of his