Читать книгу Cinderella And The Duke - Janice Preston, Janice Preston - Страница 3

Hard fingers gripped her upper arm, pulling her around to face him. Rosalind’s breath grew short as Leo gazed down at her, and her cheeks heated.

She swallowed, and tentatively tugged her arm from his grasp. He released her immediately, but she remained pinned in place by the command of those silver-grey eyes. Up close, she could see the shadow of dark whiskers on his jaw and cheek. It gave him a dangerous, almost piratical air, and yet her fingers twitched with the urge to feel their rasp.

‘What is your name?’

His voice was low. Rosalind caught the faint scent of cologne—musky, with a trace of orange and cinnamon—beneath the smell of fresh air, horse and leather. Her insides swooped like a swallow in flight and her breathing hitched.

‘Rosalind.’ It emerged as a croak. She frowned, cleared her throat, and spoke with more force. ‘Rosalind.’

‘Rosalind…’ The mellifluous way he rolled the syllables of her name created shivery waves over her body. ‘It is a beautiful name.’

His eyes darkened and Rosalind felt another quiver run through her.