Читать книгу A Dangerous Love - Бренда Джойс, Brenda Joyce - Страница 2

Ariella now heard him speaking to the Gypsies in their strange, Slavic-sounding tongue. His tone was one of command. Instantly Ariella knew he was their leader.

And then the Gypsy leader looked at them. Cold grey eyes met hers and her breath caught. He was so beautiful. His piercing eyes were impossibly long lashed, and set over strikingly high, exotic cheekbones. His nose was straight, his jaw hard and strong. She had never seen such masculine perfection in her entire life.

Of course he wasn’t English. He was too dark, too immodestly dressed and his hair was far too long, brushing his shoulders. Tendrils were caught inside his open collar, as if sticking to his wet skin.

She flushed but couldn’t stop staring. Her gaze drifted to a full but tense mouth. She glimpsed a gold cross he wore, against the dark, bronzed skin of his chest. In the fine silk shirt, she could even see his chest rising and falling, slow and rhythmic. Her glance went lower. The doeskin breeches clung to his thick, muscular thighs and narrow hips, delineating far too much male anatomy.

She felt his eyes on her; she looked up and met his gaze a second time.

Ariella flamed. Knowing she had been caught, she looked quickly away. What was wrong with her?

“I am Emilian. You will speak to me,” he said, a slight accent hanging on his every word.