Frovtunes’ Kiss Read Online Free Page A

Letty, the city had grown up while he was away, burgeoning with new streets and squares, becoming ever more intricate, sophisticated, fussy. And as with Letty, he rather disapproved of the changes that made London a stranger to him.
    An increasingly familiar yearning took hold, an acute craving for baked desert winds, the piercing brightness of sun and sky, the unpredictable adventures of hidden temples, cursed tombs, and Bedouin-guarded treasure.
    How long before he settled his inheritance and returned to Egypt?
    â€œWhere has your brother run off to?” His mother’s question broke his reverie. She craned her neck to scan the gardens. “I do hope he hasn’t…” She trailed off as frown lines arced above her feathered mask.
    She needn’t finish the thought, for Graham to understand her apprehensions concerning her younger son. Freddy, too, had undergone changes since Graham had seen him last, not the least of which was a troubling fondness for brandy. “Would you like me to find him, Mother?”
    â€œWould you, Monteith? Yes, do be a dear.”
    A dear? Not exactly how he felt, especially when he would mostly likely want to box Freddy’s ears when he found him. As he started away, his mother’s eager voice carried above the surrounding din. “See there, Letitia. I do believe that young man is a viscount. Come, let’s wangle an introduction.”
    â€œYes, but is he a
rich
viscount, Mama?”
    Ah, Letty. When Graham left England ten years ago, his little sister had been scrambling to follow her twin brother up into trees and anywhere else their tutors’ lessons might be avoided. She’d thumbed her nose at party dresses and any pastime considered conventionally feminine, much preferring to ride, swim, or shoot a bow and arrow. And her hair had been pleasantly wavy, not this ridiculous mass of corkscrews that jiggled whenever she moved. What in blazing hell had happened?
    His reunion with both siblings had been strained at best. He’d been away so many years…and there had been that letter they sent him not long after his departure from England.
    How could you disgrace us? We’re so terribly ashamed. Don’t ever return…
    He shook the memory away, blinked…and saw her. He had no idea who she was, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Downright stared as she proceeded in his direction. There were at least two-score ladies strolling the gardens tonight, but this one stood out, seized his notice, spiked his curiosity. It was, perhaps, in the way she moved effortlessly through the crush, as if she had nowhere in particular to be—unhurried, serene, her hips swaying with the languid grace of a temple cat.
    Like him, this woman wore simple evening attire: a sleek gown of midnight blue, a velvet mask trimmed to match. A gossamer veil of the same hue draped from a coil of ebony hair at the crown of her head. Unadorned, unaffected…and entirely intriguing.
    Their gazes met, hers a dark mystery behind the mask that covered half her face. A smile eased across her lips. Then, quite abruptly, she changed direction, but with a parting glance that set his feet in motion.
    Suddenly London seemed a good deal less boring.

CHAPTER
       3      
    M oira pivoted and set off at a brisk pace, away from Graham Foster. She had been watching him for the better part of a half hour, after learning his identity from an acquaintance. She had known the Fosters were attending tonight, and so she had managed an invitation through the wife of an old friend of her stepfather’s. But until some thirty minutes ago, she’d had no idea this man was the very same who had witnessed her utter humiliation at Mr. Smythe’s office yesterday.
    Good grief.
    Tonight, as yesterday, he was affecting her in the most alarming manner. As she strode off, her hand flew instinctively to her mask to ensure it was still in place.