Ruthless - By Anne Stuart Page 0,29

her…

It was appalling, and she didn’t want to think about it. He was a degenerate, a notorious one, and the sooner she escaped from his presence the better she would be.

“That’s all I’m going to get, isn’t it, ma petite?” he said lazily. “I expect you want more, but you’d never admit to it. I shall now endeavor to catch some much-needed sleep and spare your maidenly blushes, unless you’d consider having a second lesson. No? I thought not. I have two more days of carousing left and at my advanced age I need my strength.” He smiled at her with angelic innocence. “Cat got your tongue, my pet?”

With supreme effort she pulled herself together, looking at him with acute dislike. “If you sleep you’ll stop talking, which would be a blessing,” she said. “And at your advanced age I can see that you would most definitely benefit from it.”

There was a sudden, charged silence in the carriage. “My dear Miss Harriman, if you continue to amuse me it will be extremely difficult for me to keep my hands off you. There are very few people who don’t bore me, and I tend to be possessive about those I find entertaining.”

“I shall proceed to snore,” she said, snapping her eye closed.

She heard him laugh. It was a wicked sound, soft and low and for many women, irresistible. But she wasn’t many women. Her body still trembled from the aftermath of what he…what they had done. She folded her bare hands beneath the fur pelisse and stared out the window, ignoring him.

It was the noise that awoke her. The carriage clattered over the rough cobbles of the city streets, and her eyes flew open to meet his.

“Once again, Miss Harriman, you have slept with me,” he said. “Once might be forgiven by a disapproving society. Twice puts you quite beyond the pale. I think you should give up any pretensions to modesty and return to my château with me. Or my town house is quite large—you could wander around there for days and never see anyone. We could spend hours in bed…”

“Don’t be tiresome, Monsieur le Comte,” she said sharply, the last traces of sleep ripped away. How could she have fallen asleep in his presence? Particularly after what he’d done to her? How could she have been so foolish? She straightened her shoulders. “In fact, we’re not far from my house, and I believe this carriage is too wide for the narrow streets. Why don’t you let me down here and I’ll walk the rest of the way. I’m certain Mrs. Clarke will forgive you.”

“Dear child,” he said. “I have no intention of abandoning you in your hour of need. Besides, I have to find out what exactly you’re so desperate to keep hidden. A strapping live-in lover? Perhaps you live in a brothel and your sainted mother is one of your most lucrative whores? No, that does seem unlikely. But there’s most assuredly something at your home that you don’t want me to see and I’m surmising it’s your exquisitely beautiful and most definitely not dead younger sister. You must know my curiosity, like all my appetites, is insatiable.”

“I don’t…” She slapped a hand over her mouth, bending over. “Stop the carriage!” she said in a strangled voice.

Her companion didn’t move. “Are you unwell? You turned quite a shade just then.”

“I’m going to be sick. If you don’t stop and let me out I’m going to cast up my accounts all over your expensive carriage!” she said in a harsh, muffled voice.

“That would be a great deal too bad, but carriages can be cleaned. I have servants for that.”

She looked up at him, her hand still clamped over her mouth. “Do you want to ride back to your château in a closed carriage filled with the results?”

“An excellent point.” He rapped on the carriage wall behind him, and the conveyance came to an abrupt stop, hurtling her forward.

She caught herself in time, just before she ended in his arms. He’d unfastened the pelisse at her neck at some point during the wicked play he’d forced on her, and she thrust it off her shoulders, scrambling for the door just as the footman let down the steps.

With one hand clamped to her mouth and another against her stomach, she let the footman help her out of the carriage as she groaned piteously. A light snow was falling, making the wretched area look almost pretty. She felt the ground beneath her

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