Free Mistress By Mistake by Maggie Robinson Page B

and silver tray, the scalloped edges of which dug into her stomach. “Ouch!”
    “I can see,” said Bay, his face thunderous, “I was mistaken taking you at your word about refraining from stupidity. Let’s see now. Perpetration of fraud and entrapment, two instances of theft, and now attempted murder. I begin to think you have a low opinion of me, Charlie.”
    “I wasn’t going to murder you, just knock you out,” Charlotte said sullenly. “It’s only what you deserve, keeping me a prisoner here and torturing me.”
    “Torture?” His smile was wide and terrifying. “You haven’t begun to see torture yet. Did I tell you I was a guest of some French outlaws for a week? A very long week. It was most instructive.” With a vicious little shove, he pushed the tray against her, then brought it to the table. He popped a petit four into his mouth and chewed.
    Charlotte stayed rooted to the floor, knowing if she tried to run he’d be on her in a minute. She realized she still clutched the candlestick in both hands. Bay was so confident of her clumsiness he hadn’t even bothered to take it away from her. Lifting her chin, she glided across the floor to put it back on the mantel, lessening the effect a bit when she squelched a fig under her left foot.
    “I want to be arrested,” she announced. “Newgate will be a haven of respectability compared to Jane Street. Keeping company with the lowest criminals for a lifetime is preferable to spending one more day with you.”
    “You wound me.” He was eating a slice of almond torte now, licking his fingers. “Care for some dessert? Mrs. Kelly really is a treasure.”
    “I want nothing from you but my freedom!” she cried. “You are inhuman! I assure you I am completely innocent of conspiring with Deborah. And she won’t give tuppence to get me out of here. She’s got what she wants now. I doubt she even remembers she has a sister.”
    “Now, Charlie, you do yourself a disservice. I’ve only known you two days and I could never forget you. Take off that horrible nightgown.”
    “P-pardon?”
    “Don’t play deaf. Although I wouldn’t mind dumb. No man wants a shrew for a mistress. The nightgown, if you please.”
    With great reluctance, Charlotte pulled it over her head and handed it to Bay. He balled it up and threw it out the window into the garden, where it could have a late-night assignation with her boots. At least he hadn’t burned it. The room was only now beginning to smell fresh. She shivered again to be exposed to him so blatantly. She had never been naked with a man before, not even Robert.
    “Lie down on the bed, Charlie. I’m afraid I’m going to have to tie you up again.” The man had the effrontery to look regretful.
    Charlotte bit her lip. “Please don’t. I’ll be good.”
    “I have no doubt of that. You are amongst the best I’ve ever had.” He gave her a smug smile. Beast . Comparing her to other women. Hundreds of them probably, scattered throughout Europe. Everything was about sex to him. Just because he was so freakishly perfect and proficient—well, she would not succumb to his wiles, tonight or any other night. She would lie like a stick or a stone, completely insensate to his touch. She spread herself out on the white sheets like a pagan sacrifice, closing her eyes as he pulled each insidious knot tight.
    She would not look at him. She would not speak to him. She would not—
    “Oh!” Something cool plopped onto her stomach. If her breasts had not been so ridiculously large she could see what he had done.
    “I’m a fool for you, Charlie,” he said, his voice deliciously low. He bent over and began to lick the raspberries and whipped cream from her belly. She tried to lie still—she did, really, but when the tip of his tongue circled her navel, then dipped in, she jumped. Apparently finished with her stomach, he scooped more from the bowl and rubbed a dollop of pink on one nipple, then stood back to admire his