Free The Devil's Love by Julia London Page B

mistaken, he would be putting the little hellion on a coach first thing in the morning.
    As Michael changed, Abbey stared at the ice-blue gown she had extracted from a
    trunk. It was wrinkled and several of the small pearl beads were missing.
    But it
    was the wedding dress Victoria had made for her, and by God, she was going to
    wear it. That man, that devil did not want to marry her, and at the moment, she
    would bet just about anything she had he would not go through with it. He was
    trying to scare her, and although he was succeeding—admirably—she was going to
    call his rotten bluff.
    But God in heaven, what if she was wrong?
    She was not wrong, she was certain. She quickly disrobed and slipped into the
    dress. It would have been a stunning wedding gown. A low-cut bodice decorated
    with tiny seed pearls was fitted tightly to her, the skirt pleated in the back.
    Abbey struggled with the buttons and realized, too late, that she could not fasten them all herself. She shrugged as she searched for the slippers dyed to
    match her gown. It did not matter. She was not getting married in this or any
    other dress. That horrid man would not marry her. He despised her.
    She had not had time to do anything with her hair when the rapid staccato fell
    on her door again, and it swung open. Not only was he an ogre, but he was
    exceedingly rude, she thought, snapping to attention. She was hardly prepared
    for the sight of him. Dressed in formal attire of midnight black with a snowy
    white satin waistcoat, he looked even more impossibly handsome than before. A
    swath of regret cut across her as she stared at his magnificent features.
    The
    only thing she and her cousins had been right about was his looks. He was, quite
    certainly, the most handsome man she had ever clapped eyes on.
    At the same moment, Michael thought she would have made a stunning bride even as
    he eyed her wrinkled gown. But not his, and not tonight. He leaned negligently
    against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest, and let his gaze wander her svelte figure. She was a gorgeous woman, that much he could not deny.
    It was a pity; in any other time or place, he would have greatly appreciated her
    beauty. But the only thing he would appreciate now was her refusal of the agreement. “Well? The vicar is waiting.”
    “AH right,” she said smoothly, and marched out of the room, passing him in a
    cloud of pale blue and lilac scent. A laugh caught in his throat as she passed
    him and he realized her gown was buttoned only halfway up her back.
    He placed a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, a look of wild panic in
    her eyes. Michael quickly held up his hands.
    “Your gown,” he said quickly.
    Abbey’s brows snapped to a frown. “I am sorry, but I did not come with a lady’s
    maid. Surely if I had, you would have sent her back at once. Not responsible for
    a bevy of relatives or favorites, isn’t that right?”
    Michael chuckled and motioned for her to turn around. Abbey was having none of
    that and violently shook her head. He ignored her, put his hands on her shoulders, and forced her to turn. “Do not worry about your good name, Miss
    Carrington. I intend to button up this gown of yours as opposed to unbutton it.
    I rather doubt your bevy of relatives in America will hear of this little episode,” he said as he quickly fastened her gown.
    The light touch of his fingers on her back sent a queer, tingling shiver down
    her spine, but Abbey bit her lower lip and endured it. He was right; she could
    hardly appear in front of a vicar or anyone else with her gown undone, and as
    she had no cousins to help her, she was going to have to allow him this one
    indiscretion. She was amazed at how deftly he fastened the tiny row of buttons,
    and wondered madly how many times he had sent his fingers flying in the opposite
    direction on a woman’s back. As soon as he finished, she jumped away from him,
    practically to the other side of the corridor. When Michael