“Oh, of course you’d want to know about her.The horses, right?”Soren could feel Rafe’s eyes on him but didn’t return the look despite Prudence unlocking her gaze from him.
“The horses?What horses?”
But then Prudence made a hurried exit from the room.And he had to accept, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, that he had an answer to Rafe’s question.What did he want to know about her?
Everything.
Chapter 3
Prudence
Itshouldjustbethat a girl and her book were enough to take on the world,Pru couldn’t help thinking as she dashed out of the ballroom and hurried herself into the library.A safe space.A quiet place.A place free of mortifying experiences.A place full of books.Adventures.Other lives to live.Other places to visit.Other times in history to study.Her favorite place.And thankfully, every house had one.
Not only was Corisande upset with her and her sister laughing at her, but that man—oh that devilishly handsome man—had witnessed it all.If he hadn’t been studying her and smirking—that was really what put her over the edge—she would have dusted herself off and followed Tempy to where she would have inevitably recounted the story to their sister Verity who had been off making a list in her head of invitees to her upcoming house party.Verity would have waived off the story while Tempy teased Pru, and she wouldn’t have thought anything of it.
But that man.
And that look.
At risk of drowning in stimulation, her heart was paddling inside of her little chest doing anything to stay above the surface of welling emotions.To stow away in the library for a short period was her best bet at calming the vibrating nerves within her.Pru wiped her sweaty palms down her skirts as she stalked over to the bookshelves.There had to be something good here.
Drumming her fingers against the spines helped to slow her pace.
After a fraction of a second a pink spine caught her eye, and she couldn’t help recalling her cousin Phyllis mentioning a pink leatherbound book.A salacious book.
Although she knew the room to be empty, she took a glance around before removing the book from the shelf.It took only a few steps for her to find herself in a soft-cushioned armchair in one of the corners near the fireplace.
A gasp quickly followed the first flip of the page.Her cheeks burned at the same time her nipples tightened.Thank God no one was around as she continued to peruse the pages.Some more than others.Like page thirty-six.She was shocked.
Even as she sat alone in the room, she squeezed her legs together at the pooling ache that grew with each new image.Women wrapped around men.Men wrapped around women.Mouths.Everywhere.And tongues.
God, she was actually grateful that the fire wasn’t blaring because her body was inflamed.Her fingers dropped to the page where an image, like a beacon, called to her.
An embrace.The look on the woman’s face…eyes half closed.Mouth parted.Head dropped back.The man in the illustration had dark hair, just like…
Pru closed her eyes recalling his face.Imagining what it would be like to have him atop her like that.Holding her.Her nipples caught friction on the inner bodice of her dress, and she sighed.Almost as if she was yearning for something.
Was this really what women did in the bedroom?Pru had no idea.She had been too young for her mother to transfer any wisdom before her passing.And it wasn't like her father had shared anything on that front.Fidelia, her eldest sister, had been married for a few years, but everything had changed between them after the wedding.Pru blamed Bart, the husband and therefore brother-in-law, for all the transformations.Fortunately, he ensured the two younger unmarried sisters were taken care of, but unfortunately there was something amiss with him.They hadn’t been able to put their finger on it, only that both Pru and Verity agreed to never marry a man like him.
Namely, according to Pru, never marry a man you’re in love with because after marriage you’ll be the only one in love.Like Tempy, some women held out as hopeless romantics.Not Pru.
A strong stable match would do.To verify the match, she had a list of requirements for any man she would consider.
One.He had to love books.
Two.He had to actually read those books that he claimed to love.
Three.He had to be honest in all things.
Four.He had to be rational.Logical.Practical.
Five.He had to consider her opinion.
A deceptively short list it was, when put into practice.One would think that it wouldn’t be hard to find a man who fit the bill.But one would be wrong.
Oh, she had met many a man who claimed to love books.But many had fallen off the eligible list by point number two, which often meant they wouldn’t have qualified for point number three anyway.They didn’t read for pleasure or out of curiosity, rather only to check off that they’d read the book or because they needed to read it for one reason or another.School.Business.Conversation.
A true reader may love to share what they’ve read, but not because it would bring them any clout.They read for the sheer pleasure of the words.The story.The feeling.The escape.
