Free A Dangerous Man by Janmarie Anello Page B

enough for
you? You needed a title I couldn't give you?" He glared at her
in cold, hard contempt. "What? No response?"
    Leah knew his words sprang from his pain, but they cut
like a dagger thrust deep in her heart. "I never kept you dan gling on a string. Until this moment, I did not know you cared
for me as anything more than a sister. You have ever been
my dearest friend, Alex. For you to accuse me thus is cruel."

    "Cruel?" he sneered, rocking back on his heels. "I'll tell
you what is cruel. To discover the woman you've loved your
entire life is nothing more than a lie, that is cruel! To discover
her sweet smile and tender words were a facade to hide a calculating bitch, that is cruel!"
    She did not speak. There were no words to say. She looked
out over the gardens, at the shadowy plants, indistinct in the
darkness. She gripped the balustrade, thankful for the solid
support to steady her knees as she listened to the steady
breeze rustling through the potted plants on the terrace.
    A sudden burst of laughter drew her attention to the house,
to the man standing before her, glaring at her as if she were
Medusa, with serpents slithering out of her hair.
    Her chest ached and her throat burned. She drew a ragged
breath. "As you have ever been my dearest friend, I forgive
you your harsh words. Now, I think you should leave, before
we hurt each other more"
    A long, tense moment passed before he spun on his heels
and disappeared into the night. She closed her eyes, rubbed
her forefingers over her brow. She couldn't remember a time
when they had not been friends, introduced by their mothers
when they were just small through a never-ending round of
social calls. Even after her mother had died, and in the face
of her father's growing animosity, his quiet support had never
wavered.
    Now, he hated her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to drop
to the floor and weep like a babe, but her tears were locked
up inside her, where they would remain.
    The night sky stretched out before her, the stars barely visible in the midnight tapestry. All Leah could see was the fathomless depths of Richard's eyes, their smoky darkness haunting her
now, even as they would haunt her forever.

    Would he agree to her plan? Why would he not? It was not
as if he had wanted to marry her. No, she had her father's
treachery to thank for the agony about to befall her, and for
the lines of misery now etched into Alexander's face.
    "Leah, are you out here?" Lord Geoffrey trotted through
the door, two glasses clutched in his hands. His smile was the
easy, unaffected grin of a perfectly charming man and Leah
couldn't help but like him. "I've brought your lemonade."
    She laced her hands together at her waist before he drew
near enough to notice their trembling. She even managed to
smile, and then to laugh at his playful bantering, as if she were
happy, as if her heart weren't breaking, as if her dearest friend
did not hate her, as if the man she loved were not, at this
moment, in the ballroom conversing with another woman, as
if she were not about to set him free.
    Richard found her on the terrace, her wispy golden hair
shimmering in the torchlight, framed against the midnight
sky, his brother standing at her side.
    She tilted her face into the rose-scented breeze and closed
her eyes. A mysterious smile touched her lips, as if she were
lost in a pleasant dream-or planning her escape.
    Geoffrey murmured something near her ear, and she laughed.
    It was a simple sound that seemed to float above the musical notes sweeping out of the ballroom until it wrapped
around Richard, until he didn't know whether it was guilt or
need clenching his gut. He had made her shiver in fear, and
then in desire, but he had never made her laugh.
    He leaned one shoulder against the wall, the bricks cutting
into his back keeping him sane as he crossed his arms over
his chest and allowed himself to gaze at her-at his wife,
dammit.
    Would he never get