It was one of the finest things about horses—they never expected conversation. He had no idea what he was meant to say to Grace once he saw her again. Lovely kissing you. Wish we’d done more. It was the truth, even if he’d been the one to cut them off. He’d been aching for her all night. He might have to marry this one. Jack stopped cold. Where had that come from? From your conscience, a niggling little voice—probably his conscience—told him. Damn. He really needed to get a better night’s sleep. His conscience was never this loud. But could he? Marry her? It was certainly the only way he’d ever be able to bed her. Grace was not the sort of woman one dallied with. It wasn’t a question of her birth, although that certainly was a factor. It was just…her. The way she was. Her uncommon dignity, her quiet and sly humor. Marriage. What a curious notion. It wasn’t that he’d been avoiding it. It was just that he’d never considered it. He was rarely in one place for long enough to form a lasting attachment.
What do You think about The Lost Duke Of Wyndham (2008)?
