Free The Devil at Archangel by Sara Craven Page A

trying to dismiss the image of that tanned,
    utterly cynical face from her mind. She would indeed beware of him,
    she told herself, and with the thought came once more that soft,
    troublous shiver as she seemed to experience again the hard grip of
    his hands on her skin and that fleeting contact with his warm body.
    She sat up suddenly, pushing her hair back from her face, a feeling
    akin to panic seizing her. Where was her imagination leading her?
    She was thinking like a hysteric. She had been touched by men
    before—she'd even been kissed with varying degrees of enthusiasm
    and had responded, or'not, as the mood took her. Why then was she
    reacting like this? Almost dazedly she recalled that she had told
    Devlin Brandon on Martinique that she did not like to be touched.
    What had possessed her to say such a thing? Yes, she'd been
    frightened, but not witless. Had she, then, been granted some curious
    foreknowledge of what this man could make her feel if he chose?

    With a little cry she turned and flung herself down on her stomach,
    burying her face in the pillow and pressing her hands over her ears as
    if by this means she could shut out the clamour of her thoughts.
    If she had to indulge in erotic daydreams, she thought fiercely, then
    why couldn't she focus them on Theo, blessed with far more than his
    fair share of devastating good looks and charm? But she knew the
    answer to that question almost before it was formulated in her mind.
    Theo, for all his veneer of sophistication, was still a boy. Devlin
    Brandon, on the other hand, was all man and had probably been so
    since his cradle.
    Stop it—stop it! she raged at herself. It was useless to think in that
    way, and what was more, it was dangerous too. He was her enemy,
    and he despised her. She must never lose sight of those facts.
    There was a tap at the door, and Eulalie appeared.
    'Madame is awake and asking for you,' she announced without
    preamble.
    'I see.' Christina scrambled off the bed and reached for her dress. 'Can
    you show me where her room is?'
    The other girl shrugged. 'I cannot be too long. I have work to do,' she
    said abruptly.
    'I won't be a minute.' Christina stepped into her dress and closed the
    zip, aware as she did so that her slender figure was being rather
    contemptuously assessed by Eulalie, whose own body was built on
    gracefully voluptuous lines. Christina tried to appear unconscious of
    her regard as she donned her sandals and ran a comb through her
    tangled hair. 'I'm ready,' she said, turning away from the mirror.
    Eulalie did not reply, but led the way out of the room and along the
    corridor to the main gallery.

    Mrs Brandon's suite led directly off the gallery, Christina discovered.
    It consisted of a large bedroom, charmingly furnished ill the Empire
    style in shades of blue and white, with an adjoining bathroom and
    small sitting room,, in which the main item of furniture seemed to be
    a baby grand piano. A small brocaded sofa with gilded legs had been
    drawn up to the window, and here sat Mrs Brandon, already dressed
    for dinner in royal blue chiffon, occupied with some embroidery. An
    inlaid table had been placed at her side and on this reposed a small
    silver bell, and a crystal decanter of pale sherry with two glasses.
    Mrs Brandon looked round and smiled as Christina knocked and
    entered.
    'Sit down, mon enfant. You are rested now?'
    Christina smiled and agreed. It seemed the easiest thing to do.
    'I should have changed for dinner—I'm sorry,' she apologised,
    looking down rather ruefully at the chocolate- coloured dress.
    'It is of no moment. It is hardly likely that you would be au fait with
    our ways on your first evening.' Mrs Brandon inclined her head
    graciously in acknowledgment of the apology. 'Besides, the little
    frock is quite charming.'
    Christina was slightly embarrassed by the compliment. Why were all
    the Brandons quite so overwhelming, she wondered, and would she
    ever get over this feeling of inadequacy?