Free Wicked Nights With a Lover by Sophie Jordan Page B

pooling over his thighs. He could not help himself. He took measure of the female in his arms.
    She was small. Standing, she wouldn’t reach his shoulder, and yet she was pleasantly formed, soft and well-rounded in all the right places. She still struggled—for the little good it did her—affording him the sensation of her soft body against his own, her breasts brushing him again and again. Until he had to bite back a groan.
    “You’ll only tire yourself,” he murmured thickly.
    “Let me go,” she pleaded, her voice choked in a way that made him fear tears were close.
    “Do you intend to vault from a moving carriage? Do you want to injure yourself? You’re not going anywhere with a broken neck, I can assure you of that.” He gave her a small shake, letting the words sink in. He had no wish to bind her hands and wrists. That wouldn’t be comfortable, to say nothing of barbaric, but he’d do what he must to keep her from doing damage to herself.
    She stilled then, her warm breath a pleasant fan on his face. “Very well,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m calm. I won’t jump.”
    His chest tightened uncomfortably at the sound of her aggrieved voice. He’d given her very little thought when conceiving this scheme. She’d simply been one of Jack’s bastard daughters. Now she was here, and he was faced with the reality of her.
    Sighing, he gentled his voice and said, “Just hear my proposition—”
    “I have a lover,” she blurted. “I’m another man’s mistress. Tomorrow I leave for Spain with m-my protector.”
    His chest lifted with a sharp breath at the unexpected words. Disappointment rooted deeply in his chest, settling there like a heavy rock. “You’re a … kept woman?”
    An emotion he could not identify followed close on the heels of the realization that he knew nothing of this woman. Not her name. Not her face. Not even a hint of who she was. It had not occurred to him that she might possess entanglements. His hands loosened from her wrists and he pulled back. Her arms fell away from him, and she quickly scrambled back across the carriage.
    The fleeting thought passed through his mind that he should return her and forget her sultry-soft voice. Then he heard Jack’s voice, hard and matter-of-fact, whipping through his head, explaining that Ash was not good enough to be his heir. Not good enough …
    Now, more than ever, he was convinced their marriage would be good for her. For the both of them. It would save her from her situation as some man’s tart and grant her a life of legitimacy. He offered her freedom. He just had to make her see that.
    “You were leaving for Spain,” he began, his voice quiet but firm. “No longer. Now you are journeying to Scotland with me. On the way there, you’ll realize that I’m offering you something this protector of yours never could.” He would convince her of that.
    “And what would that be?”
    “Freedom. The means to be an independent woman. To go anywhere and do anything you want.”
    She held silent for a moment, and he knew he’d baited the hook. She was listening, perhaps for the first time. “You don’t plan to force me to wed you …”
    “I won’t have to,” he replied. “You’ll see the wisdom in this. We’ll use the journey to better acquaint ourselves.” He heard her sigh, felt it ripple through him. A good sign. She was relenting. One more inducement and the deal was done. He was certain of it. “We need not even consummate the marriage. It will be assumed. After a few months, you can go anywhere you wish … fully funded.”
    “A few months,” she echoed. He did not mistake the longing in her voice.
    “Do yourself a favor and take the time to consider what I’m offering at the very least.” His voice fell with a quiet hush, calm for all the tension riddling him as he awaited her response.
    “Very well,” she whispered at last. “I’ll consider it.”
    His head dropped back on the seat. “You should rest until we