A warmth settled into her cheek, and it took her a long moment to realize that he had moved forward and cupped her jaw.
“Are you all right?” he asked. His eyes glittered with concern. “Breathe, my lady.”
Her breath shuddered awkwardly in her chest, and she had the wild thought that she would do anything this man asked of her. A giddiness filled her whole being as she stared at her rescuer.
Had it finally happened? Had her dream at last come true? Had she fallen in love with this gallant stranger all at once?
CHAPTER 2
Her heart hammered against her ribs, and an unfamiliar heat stirred to life between her thighs. Bridget swallowed hard. Her clothing stuck uncomfortably to her, especially her chest. Bridget’s breasts seemed suddenly too tight in the confines of her stays, but she could not precisely say why she felt that they were.
The man’s eyes lingered over her, darting downward. He could gaze right down the bodice of her dress, something that sent a tremor of delight burning through Bridget’s core. She bit her lip, stifling a moan.
He scowled. “Well, what a fine twist this is! My clothing is ruined!”
He dropped his hand from her cheek, leaving a profound coldness behind. Bridget stared at him in disbelief, as he climbed to his feet. Her romantic illusions were promptly shattered.
She had never before wished so fervently for a man to have said nothing at all.
“Apologies for nearly drowning,” Bridget said dryly. “If I had realized it would be such an unfathomable inconvenience for you, I would have refrained.”
He scoffed. “An expression of gratitude would not be amiss, my lady.”
“I do not see the need,” Bridget retorted. “Gratitude is for saviors who deserve it.”
Admittedly, that comment sounded a little nonsensical even to her own ears, but Bridget knew what she meant. Men who were chivalrous and well-mannered deserved gratitude—not vain men who showed more concern for their clothing than for imperiled young ladies.
“Well, maybe you should not have dived in after me.” She kept her gaze fixed on the infuriatingly handsome man, even as she stumbled to her feet. “Then, you would have spared your clothing.”
“That was not an option either,” the man said, his jaw tight. “I was the closest to you, and if I had let you drown, it would have reflected poorly on me.”
Bridget’s face grew hot. Had he really just said what she thought he had? Was this man claiming that he had rescued her only out of fear for keeping his good reputation?
“Oh, poor you!” Bridget exclaimed. “With an attitude like that, I am surprised you even have a reputation to diminish.”
He scowled. “With a mouth like yours, I imagine your reputation is also in tatters.”
It was, but hearing him say it made her blood boil.
“Are you always this lacking in charms?” Bridget asked. “Or is today a special occasion?”
“Strange. I was going to ask you a similar question.”
“Your rebuttals are lacking in ambition,” Bridget shot back. “Thus far, you have only volleyed my own words at me. Perhaps you ought to find your own.”
“You presume you are worth the effort,” the man said.
It took all Bridget’s strength of will not to let her jaw drop. “It is quite remarkable how you made this rescue entirely devoid of romance!” she snapped.
“Oh! Bridget!” Dorothy exclaimed, joining them. Her husband Gerard followed, lingering back a little.
“I see you have met His Grace,” Dorothy said.
His Grace. This man was a duke, then.
And rather lacking in any sort of grace!Bridget thought.
It was a little ridiculous of her, but she could not decide if her dislike stemmed more from his dismissive attitude or from his ruining her fantasy. A man rescuing a lady from drowning certainly ought to be the beginning of a beautiful romance, rather than this frustrating encounter!
