Free The Devil Who Tamed Her by Johanna Lindsey Page B

quite hearing her. “I’ll just go hurry them along then and wait in the dining room. Join me?”
    “In a moment,” Ophelia said a bit louder, trying not to shout. “I’m just going to have a few words with your nephew first.”
    “Why did that sound ominous?” Raphael asked as soon as his aunt left the room.
    “You jest, Lord Locke, when nothing about this situation is remotely humorous.”
    “No jest a’tall, since you’ve done nothing but shout, rant, and complain since we got here.”
    “All with good reason, or did you really think I’d say thank you for holding me prisoner?”
    He let out a long-suffering sigh, which she was sure was quite contrived. “Come and sit down. And do call me Rafe. All my friends do.” She stared at him pointedly, causing him to chuckle and add, “Even my enemies do. No, really they do. And I’ll call you Pheli if you don’t mind. Less formality between us will—”
    “I do mind.”
    “Too bad. But as I was saying before you rudely interrupted, less—”
    “I really do mind,” she cut in again. While she could care less that it appeared she was annoying him, this was something she wasn’t going to give ground on, so she decided to explain. “It was a childhood name my friends gave me. When I thought they were my friends, it didn’t bother me in the least, but I found out they weren’t. So it’s a name I associate with lies and deceit, and every time I hear it, it reminds me of that betrayal.”
    She didn’t expect to shock him into silence, but he had nothing to say to that, and the look he was giving her was a mixture of confusion and—pity? He better not pity her. She wouldn’t tolerate it.
    He recovered enough to ask, “Was your childhood really so—unusual?”
    “Don’t go there,” she warned. “I mean it.”
    He shrugged. “Well, this won’t do a’tall. The name Ophelia is much too standoffish, and as I was saying, twice as you’ll recall, we’ll get a lot more accomplished, and much quicker, with less formality. How about Phelia then? No, I have it! Phil. A bit mannish, but—”
    “Fine!” she snapped. “Phelia will do.”
    “Thought so.” He grinned.
    She narrowed her eyes on him. He looked back at her innocently. His tactics were deplorable, but at least they were obvious. He wasn’t really trying to trick her into compliance, just putting his jaunty affectation to good use.
    He stood up, since she hadn’t taken the seat he’d offered, and asked, “Was there something specific you wanted to discuss, as you implied to my aunt?”
    “Yes, but—can we step into the foyer? I don’t know how you tolerate this heat.”
    “Because I enjoy my aunt’s company. She needs a little more warmth than we do.”
    “I know. It’s why I turned the brazier up in the coach. But, well, never mind. I suppose I’ll get used to it.”
    “So you can make concessions?” he said with exaggerated surprise. “I’m impressed.”
    “Don’t be. I told you, I like older people. But listen here, Rafe . If you are sincere, which I still doubt, mind you, but if you are sincere in wanting to deal with me for a specific goal, you’d do well to stop making me furious with your insults every time we converse.”
    He put a finger to his lip in brief speculation. “You don’t look furious,” he concluded.
    “Give me a moment.”
    He laughed. “You’re going to have to stop being so witty, Phelia. It’s not one of the things you’re known for.”
    “Of course it isn’t. But then I’m not presently among friends where I need to guard every word I say.”
    “I agree we aren’t friends, but I think you have that backwards. When you’re among friends you don’t need to be guarded.”
    “No, I stated it correctly.”
    “Ahh, I see,” he guessed. “ ‘Friends’ as in not really friends?”
    “How astute of you. Now I’m impressed.”
    He laughed again, even harder. Well, devil it, she wasn’t trying to amuse him. She turned about to stare out