Tempt Me at Twilight by Lisa Kleypas

Author:Lisa Kleypas [Kleypas, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical
ISBN: 9781602855984
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2009-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

There was a dry, perfectly timed pause before Harry asked, “What would you suggest?”

Aware of his meaning, Poppy felt a bloom of color emerge from head to toe. Harry seemed to

enjoy

her discomfiture, not in a mocking way, but as if he found her charming.

“Everyone in my family loves novels,” Poppy finally said, pushing the conversation back into

line.

“We gather in the parlor nearly every evening, and one of us reads aloud. Win is the best at it—

she

invents a different voice for each character.”

“I’d like to hear you read,” Harry said.

Poppy shook her head. “I’m not half as entertaining as Win. I put everyone to sleep.”

“Yes,” Harry said. “You have the voice of a scholar’s daughter.” Before she could take offense,

he

added, “Soothing. Never grates. Soft...”

He was extraordinarily tired, she realized. So much that even the effort to string words together

was

defeating him.

“I should go,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“Finish your sandwiches first,” Poppy said authoritatively.

He picked up a sandwich obediently. While he ate, Poppy paged through the book until she

found

what she wanted... a description of walking through the countryside, under skies filled with

fleecy

clouds, past almond trees in blossom and white campion nestled beside quiet brooks. She read in

a

measured tone, occasionally stealing a glance at Harry while he polished off the entire plate of

sandwiches. And then he settled deeper into the corner, more relaxed than she had ever seen him.

She read a few pages more, about walking past hedges and meadows, through a wood dressed

with

a counterpane of fallen leaves, while soft pale sunshine gave way to a quiet rain...

And when she finally reached the end of the chapter, she looked at Harry once more.

He was asleep.

His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, his long lashes fanned against his skin. One hand was

palm down against his chest, while the other lay half open at his side, the strong fingers partially

curled.

“Never fails,” Poppy murmured with a private grin. Her talent at putting people to sleep was too

much even for Harry’s relentless drive. Carefully she set the book aside.

This was the first time she’d ever been able to view Harry at her leisure. It was strange to see

him so

utterly disarmed. In sleep, the lines of his face were relaxed and almost innocent, at odds with his

usual expression of command. His mouth, always so purposeful, looked as soft as velvet. He

looked

like a boy lost in a solitary dream. Poppy felt an urge to safeguard the sleep Harry so badly

needed,

to cover him with a blanket, and stroke the dark hair from his brow.

Several tranquil minutes passed, the silence disturbed only by distant sounds of activity in the

hotel

and from the street. This was something Poppy had not known she needed... time to contemplate

the

stranger who had taken utter possession of her life.

Trying to understand Harry Rutledge was like taking apart one of the intricate clockwork

mechanisms he had constructed. One could examine every gear and ratchet wheel and lever, but

that

didn’t mean one would ever comprehend what made it all work.

It seemed that Harry had spent his life wrestling with the world and trying to bend it to his will.

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