For Love of the Duke (The Heart of a Duke #1)(6)

Jasper edged them over to the hard, solid land, and collapsed with the young woman’s lifeless body draped over his. He dimly registered the steady crack, and then splash as the wide ice surface fell beneath the Thames River. He sucked in great big, heaving gasps for air and registered the lady’s absolute stillness.

His chest tightened as he turned her over; his eyes quickly scanned the pale white of her cheeks, and he searched for breath.

With a curse he thumped her on the back.

By God he’d not been dragged to this infernal affair to pull a woman from the water.

Another thump.

Only to watch her die amidst the mindless amusements.

A harder thump.

Not another woman.

Even harder.

Not again.

Water surged from her lips, gurgling and bubbling and he turned her onto her side as she choked and gasped for the sweet taste of breath.

Jasper collapsed hard against the earth, and lay back, staring up at the fat, white snowflakes as they fell from the sky. He closed his eyes a moment, and then rolled to his side to study the quiet stranger.

She lay with her knees pulled close to her trim waist, her arms folded across her chest. Tremors wracked her lithe body. Jasper cursed.

Christ, at this rate the young lady would have survived her plunge under the water’s surface only to die of a chill.

He searched around for his cloak, and found it on the opposite side of the gaping hole left from the missing slab of ice. Then in a great show of irony, at that very moment, his black cloak slid into the surface of the water. With a sigh, he shrugged out of his somewhat damp coat and tossed it atop the lady. “Here,” he said.

His jacket, too large for her diminutive frame, hung upon her, making her appear even smaller. She burrowed deep into the folds.

“Th-thank y-you,” she said, between teeth that chattered.

He waved his hand.

“I-I c-can’t ever re-pay you.”

He raked a gaze over her. “Madam, you have nothing I want, nor anything I need.”

She appeared to flinch and Jasper wasn’t certain if it was his bluntly spoken words or the cold ravaging her frame.

Something stirred inside him, something he’d thought dead—emotion. Guilt dug at him. Jasper cursed. He didn’t want to feel guilt for his treatment of the lady. He didn’t want to feel anything where she was concerned. Hell, he didn’t want to feel anything where anyone was concerned.

Jasper shoved himself to his feet. “Here, now,” he said gruffly, and held a hand out to her. She eyed it a moment, and then placed her fingers in his.

A charge like the kind one received when walking in stockinged feet across a carpet, surged through him. He dropped her hand as if burned.

“Where is your chaperone?”

She shook her head. “I-I’ve not b-brought one.”

With another curse, he scanned the area.

“D-do y-you a-always c-curse in fr-front of l-ladies?” she shot at him.

Ah, the ice princess was back. He found he preferred the snapping, spitting catlike vixen to the nearly drowned, destitute creature he’d pulled from the river. “Ladies do not run around London without a chaperone.”

Her brown brows knitted into a single line. Her eyes slid away from his.

Jasper followed her glance to a point beyond his shoulder. “Bloody h—“ He snapped his lips closed, remembering her earlier charge. A crowd of observers stood at the central portion of the river eyeing the cracked ice, and Jasper, and…and…

The Ice Princess.

He stood, and staring down at her was struck by how frail and helpless she appeared under that icy veneer. Something shifted inside him again. Jasper shook his head, dispelling all hint of emotion. He was now a man who operated under stiff logic and reason.

Fact. The woman had nearly drowned.

Fact. He might be a heartless bastard but he couldn’t have let her drown.

Fact. She was a shivering mass of slim, graceful limbs.

Fact. He needed to return her home immediately or she’d perish from cold.

His jaw tightened. And he’d not caused a great scene, and risked his own miserable life to save her from the frigid waters only to die of a chill.

Jasper scooped her up.

“Wh-what a-are y-you d-doing?” she squeaked. It didn’t fail to escape his notice the manner in which she buried herself close against him, like a kitten seeking warmth from its master.

He stiffened at the feel of her nubile body pressed to his. In spite of the cold, her skin against his, heated him.

Jasper tamped down the irrational yearnings. He’d been without a woman for more than three years. His body’s reaction was a physical one, nothing more than that.

“I am returning you home,” he forced out between tight lips.

The sooner he could be rid of the creature the better off he’d be.





3



Katherine’s body ached as though jagged icicles had pierced every portion of her skin. A chill filled her inside and out until she wondered if she’d freeze from the cold. Her disjointed thoughts still murky from her near drowning dulled logical thinking.

He’d saved her. This great, hulking, frowning bear of a man. The same stranger who’d nearly bowled her over and raked his gaze condescendingly over her person, had risked his life to pluck her from the frozen river.