Free The Bargain: A Port Elizabeth Regency Tale: Episode 2 by Vanessa Riley Page A

chance to choose. You use that fast brain of yours to excuse your heavy hand. You didn't want me to have a true choice, just your choices. You greedy man.”
    He propped up on one arm and looked at the dangling braids along her long neck, the frustrated heaving of her chest, and couldn't see or think of a reason to leave the fireball in London. “London without Welling protection would not be enticing for you. And poor Jonas, would you send him here alone? Mrs. Narvel is nice, but trying to get him to calm down after seeing you hurt took a long time. Would he do that for another Mamie?" He thumped his chest. “I doubt he do it for this wayward man who claims him as an heir.”
    Her sweet chestnut eyes narrowed. “You mean his father. Don't think I hear you say those words that often.”
    He pulled his fingers to his lips and wanted to smash them in for his careless phrase. Some secrets should simply die. “Yes, his father.”
      Her gaze sharpened, as if she could see through his shirt, straight into his fortressed heart. “I need to know everything that happened in this room, not just the bits you wish to share.”
    He stuck his finger on her brow and smoothed a crinkle. “Everything, Precious Jewell? I am not sure you can handle that. Besides, I think that the there’s too much slave still up in that head to handle much.”
    “What?”
    “Like clockwork, mouse, each time you do something you think has angered me, you act as if I am going to beat or attack you. That’s not the thinking of a free woman. No, a woman who bears no chains, mentally or physically, will find others to assign blame. I'm surprised Eliza didn't teach you the trick.”
    “Then your men must be trained to enslave, for they surely thought that you should hurt me for nearly dying.”
    He swiped at his hair and lay back upon his pillow. “I can’t excuse their horrible behavior, but, if you had listened, hadn't been so frightened of me, you'd never have been endangered. Eliza once told me of how the masters treated their slaves. She never mentioned how you were specifically treated, but I can imagine.”
    Precious’s pretty eyes went wide as she sat up and struggled to bend her feet to her. Her muscles must be stiff from lying sick so long. “You have no idea. So don't pretend you can.”
    He held up a hand in the air to calm her. “Then tell me.”
    At first, she shrank back, then, as if she’d reached her fill of cowering, she lunged forward and slapped him with her full strength, a paper swat, across his cheekbone.
    The surprise of it made him squint at her. He couldn't decide if he should laugh or curse. “Watch it, mouse.”
      “Auugh.” The girl kicked him in the thigh, a sharp bony thrust with the heel of her foot. She lurched as if to pop him with the arm she’d hurt. Good thing he and Mrs. Narvel had bound it tightly to her side.  
    “I’m no rat!”
    The pacing of her kicks picked up, with the last almost punching his stomach. "And why did you kiss a rat, if that's what you think of me?"
    Why had he? There could've been another way to muffle her screams. His gaze left her fiery eyes, falling upon her lips, her very generous mouth with the plump curve of a cupid's dimple atop, and how inviting it was with her huffing at him. "It seemed a good idea at the time. And you didn't quite object."
    Her cheeks darkened, and her caramel skin reddened as if her fever had blossomed again. "You bounder baron." She started kicking again.  
    To stop her from hurting herself or actually connecting with one of her blows, he slipped off the bed, and rolled to the floor. Laughter poured out him. “You done?”
    Another long puff came out of her. “Yes, unless you come back up here. You should take two years off my sentence, or I… or I'll pester you for the reason you made me stay in here with you. I know it wasn't for my benefit.”
    He cocked his head and almost choked on his chuckles. Only one woman understood, well, tried to