Free Devil's Embrace by Catherine Coulter

face.
    Scargill could not help but admire her, for although her face was perfectly white, her chin was thrust forward and her shoulders were squared.
    The earl lowered the handkerchief and said quietly, “You may leave now. Cassandra and I wish to dine.”
    “Aye, my lord,” Scargill said slowly, his eyes searching his master’s face.
    The earl shut and locked the cabin door after his valet and walked to the filled basin atop the commode to dash water over his face and neck. He toweled himself dry and said calmly, “Sit down, Cassandra. Arturo went to great pains to prepare an English meal to your liking.”
    Cassie looked at him uncertainly, for after her unthinking act, she had expected him to retaliate. She sat down at the table, unwilling for the moment at least to provoke him further.
    She soon found that she was as hungry as she had been thirsty, for she had not eaten since breakfast.
    He watched her wolf down a rare slice of roast beef, and a goodly portion of the boiled potatoes and parsley. Her hunger eased, she slowed and sat back in her chair.
    “I am delighted that you approve of at least one thing I’ve done for you.”
    She looked at him and he saw her fingers tighten about the stem of her newly filled wine glass.
    “Do not do what you are thinking, Cassandra,” he said. “I allowed you one childish act, but no more.”
    She gritted her teeth and raised the glass, but her hand shook.
    “If you do what you are thinking, rest assured that I shall reciprocate.” He saw the unspoken question in her eyes. “If you hurl the wine at me, I shall throw you over my knee, bare your bottom, and thrash you.”
    “You would not.”
    “Try me, Cassandra.”
    She slowly lowered the glass to the table and let her fingers fall away from it.
    “Now, my dear, would you care to try some of my Italian coffee?”
    “I am not your dear.”
    “Coffee?”
    She nodded, hopeful that the coffee would counteract the dizzying effects of the wine.
    She walked to the settee and sat down, silently sipping the thick black liquid. When Scargill returned to clear the table, she saw the earl speak quietly to him, but she could not make out his words.
    When they were once again alone, she stared at the huge dark man and felt a knife of fear twist in her stomach. “I want more coffee.”
    The earl hesitated but an instant, then poured her half a cup.
    To Cassie’s consummate embarrassment, she discovered that all the wine and coffee she had consumed had created a distressing problem. She shifted uncomfortably on the settee for some moments, and finally she said, “I have to—that is, I must— please leave me alone.”
    The earl cocked his head to one side, then grinned. He rose and walked to the door. “The chamber pot is by the bed. You have five minutes, Cassandra, no more.”
    After seeing to her most immediate need, Cassie looked frantically at the clock and saw that she had only two minutes before he would return. Though she knew she would not be able to keep him away from her, she pulled the heavy settee over and braced it against the locked door. She grew red in the face trying to push the table before she saw that it was fastened securely to the floor. She gave a cry of frustration and dashed to the far corner of the cabin when she heard the key turn in the lock.
    She heard a low, deep chuckle and saw the settee move easily aside as he pushed open the door. The smile was still wide on his face when he came through the door.
    “It appears that I gave you too much time. Perhaps next time I will not leave you.” His tone turned suddenly serious. “Come here, Cassandra, I would speak to you.”
    She shook her head, fear clogging her throat.
    “If you do not do as I tell you,” he continued patiently, “I shall simply carry you over here and sit you down.”
    Her feet dragged forward, but she refused to sit in the chair, and stood facing him from across the small expanse of table.
    He straddled a chair and regarded her