Free His Desirable Debutante by Lynne Silver Page B

straight ahead on the wide chest of her dance partner. If she didn’t engage him in conversation and showed no interest in him, surely he would leave her alone after this one dance. One dance never destroyed anyone, right?
     
     
    “I hear we have matching dastardly reputations?” Pierce said just to shake off her ice queen demeanor. He stifled a grin as her head flew up and she met his gaze, shock and rage masking her face.
    “How dare—”
    “As you may have heard, I’m in the market for a bride. It would be nice to have one whose misdeeds match my own. Less need for apologies that way. Shall I speak to your father?” He couldn’t help but goad her. Lucky for him, daggers were not part of a woman’s costume these days, or he’d have one sticking into his black heart. But, she was too much fun to tease and he couldn’t resist. As if he’d propose marriage after a mere three minutes in a woman’s presence. Even if said woman was the most tantalizing creature he’d laid eyes on in years, whores and ladies alike.
    “Sir, I beg you.” She bit off a silent curse and fired every bit of fury her green eyes could muster at him.
    What had started as a jest, now suddenly became possible and even desirable, especially if she kept breathing hard causing her perky breasts to move enticingly within her altogether too modest bodice. Having her in his bed panting, not in anger, but with lust suddenly shot to the top of his list.
    “Lord Brandford, please have a care. You may not give a whit about your reputation, but I do. I can’t afford not to.” She muttered the last bit under her breath.
    She was truly a fascinating creature, and one he wished to explore further. All virginal and starchy appearance, contradicted by the sensual longing in her eyes as they danced, along with fire in her voice as she’d tried to deny the spark of connection between them. Oh, yes, he’d finally met someone intriguing enough to keep him in Ton ballrooms another day.

    Two weeks later

    Helene blinked as her eyes adjusted to the flickering candlelight in the unfamiliar room, groggy from her sleep. When she tried to sit up, something tugged at her arms pulling her back into pillowlike softness. Where was she? Quickly, she reviewed her last moments, trying desperately to remember where she was and how she’d arrived there.
    “Oh good, you’re awake,” a voice said softly from the corner of the room.
    Her head spun rapidly toward the sound of the voice. It was coming back in bits and chunks now. Pierce…the wedding…but why…how?
    “The wine,” her new husband said, rising from his seat and approaching the bed. “You seemed near hysteria over our marriage, so I tried to calm you with a few drops of laudanum in the wine in the carriage. Apparently, I might have overdone it. You passed out at once.”
    Relief flooded her at the logical answer, but then she remembered the ropes around her arms. “Then why am I tied up?” she asked, indignation rising like a sail on a ship. She gave a good tug at the ropes, but they held fast.
    “You threatened to run away the whole carriage ride home from the church. I’ll loosen them so you can sit up?”
    “Loosen them? Why not untie me entirely?” she demanded and rose off the bed as far as her restraints allowed. Oh Lord, every rumor about him was true. He was going to take her in the most degrading of ways then abandon her. The marriage was some sort of sick joke on his part. Anger and helplessness at her situation pounded into her. And to think she’d believed he was changing his ways.
    “If you think to consummate this marriage, think again. I have no intention of letting you have your debauched way with me,” she said, fear adding a shrewish tone to her voice.
    “Relax, darling” Pierce said. “Even in this light, I can see your imagination running wild. Despite the many titles and sins attributed to me, rapist is not one of them.”
    She fell back against the bed relieved but