Free Forbidden by Jo Beverley

asked Nicholas, addressing an excellent oxtail soup. "You see, I am not to be put off, so you may as well tell me."
    "It's not my story to share," said Francis firmly.
    "Ah. In that case, I'll desist. I thought I'd given up meddling, anyway." He glanced across the table. "It was just that something in your manner when I arrived made me think it was personal."
    Francis winced under this perception. "That's another matter."
    "And also not to be shared? Should I be hurt?"
    "You don't need my problems."
    "You don't need them, either. Share them."
    Francis met his friend's eyes, aware of a need and a disinclination to tell all. The disinclination had nothing to do with the momentary resentment he'd felt when Nicholas had appeared, for now, as usual, he felt close to him as to no one else. It was a matter of not knowing what to say.
    Nicholas had been out of England a great deal in recent years and didn't know about Francis's sexual inexperience. Francis had no desire to enlighten him. Francis didn't know, however, how his adventure would appear to a man like Nicholas, who had a reputation as an experienced lover.
    Perhaps being seduced in the night by a stranger was quite common in some circles.
    He put down his spoon. "I picked up a woman on the road yesterday in the middle of the storm and spent last night with her at a farmhouse. I've left her at an inn with a promise to return and help her, but I don't know what to do for the best."
    "You intend to abandon her?" asked Nicholas with a faint but forceful hint of disapproval.
    "Of course not. But what do I actually do with her?"
    Nicholas's lips twitched. "What are the options?"
    "Anything, I suppose, from marriage to murder." No, not marriage, he reminded himself.
    "Really? Is she ripe for either?"
    "How the hell do I know? I'm not even sure I have her real name."
    Nicholas raised his brows. "A truly Roguish adventure. Tell me."
    So Francis did, even including the strange dreamlike seduction. Nicholas whistled. "Many men would envy you that."
    "Would you?" And Therese Bellaire hovered in the room between them. That notorious and beautiful French whore had set out to ruin Nicholas, forcing him to serve her sexually in any way she pleased.
    "Probably not," said Nicholas soberly, but then a smile glinted. "However, I shall drop pointed hints to Eleanor when I return home."
    "That's the point, isn't it?" said Francis. "What kind of woman would do that to a stranger, uninvited?"
    "A well-trained whore, I'd say, who wanted to make you her debtor."
    "Quite."
    "I have nothing against well-trained whores in their place. Do you?"
    Francis didn't answer. He was strongly tempted to tell Nicholas that he knew nothing of whores, well-trained or otherwise.
    "You're not a married man," Nicholas pointed out. "My guess is that you find this woman damned attractive. Why not take her up?"
    "You forget. I'm about to be married."
    "Ah. All settled, is it?"
    Francis found he was fiddling with a fork and stopped himself. "No. But I intend to speak to the duke at the first opportunity."
    "Opportunities been scarce, have they?"
    Francis gave his friend a look, and Nicholas laughed with a touch of embarrassment. "Sorry. Bad habit. Fm resolved to give up probing without permission."
    "Good." But Francis had to admit that he could have settled his betrothal any time these past few months.
    So why hadn't he?
    Nicholas interrupted his thoughts. "Which still leaves you with an unwanted seductress to dispose of gracefully. Tell me what you know of her."
    "Nothing." But under Nicholas's gaze, Francis said, "She's frightened, though I don't know why. She's beautiful in a way that frightensme . I never would have thought that a woman's beauty could be a barrier, but the power of hers is almost off-putting. It's elemental—like the force of that storm last night; it could carry a man away against his will...." He stopped, realizing where his words were leading.
    "You don't actually sound as if you want to get rid