Free The Redemption of a Rogue (Dark Regency Book 2) by Chasity Bowlin Page B

dark, she had the overwhelming sense of impending doom. Abbi couldn’t believe she was saying it, but the words spilled out, tumbling over top of one another in her haste. “Let’s just leave. We can go to London and stay far away from Lavinia!”
    He shook his head. “No.” In a more gentle tone, he added, “We can’t. It won’t be long before the gossip rags are publishing wild stories about our engagement and marriage. It will alternately be a love match and a piece of the criminal mastery, depending on which sells more papers. I've been the subject of enough rumors, but for you—You've no idea how vicious society can be, and Lavinia will never forgive you for being the more infamous sister.”
    “She won’t forgive you for rejecting her either,” Abbi replied. It terrified her to think of what her sister might do. Lavinia was ruthless in ways she'd only just begun to realize. There would be no hiding from Lavinia. They would spend their lives looking over their shoulders.
    The question rose, unbidden, to her mind. It pained her to ask it, but the wondering would only be worse. On a deep shuddering, exhale, she asked, “Why did you reject, Lavinia? Whatever else she is, she’s impossibly beautiful.”
    Michael glanced at Abigail then, noting the uncertainty of her expression, the vulnerability in the slight tremor of her voice. Did she not know how beautiful she was? He supposed it was possible. Abigail's brand of loveliness was more quiet than her sister's, less overt, but all the sweeter for it. While Lavinia was a classic beauty, with her blonde hair and blue eyes, her angelic appearance disguised a dark heart. “Lavinia is a beautiful woman on the surface, but she is cold inside—hard and perhaps even vicious. I’ve made it a point in my life to never bed a woman I would be afraid to turn my back on…Of course, there was also you.”
    “Me?”
    He smiled at her, just a slight quirking of his perfectly sculpted lips. “Yes, you. Whether scolding a recalcitrant feline or dodging your overly amorous brother in law, I found you far more entrancing than Lavinia could ever hope to be.”
    A derisive snort had accompanied her eye rolling before she responded. “I'm in no need of your flattery, my lord! When I asked about your rejection of Lavinia, I wasn’t fishing for empty compliments for myself.”
    Michael shrugged, the easy gesture belying the anger that burned in him—anger on her behalf. Had no one ever told her how lovely she was? Finally, he said, “I wasn’t offering them. You asked, and I answered. I only accepted her invitation to dinner because it would offer me a chance to see you. My reasons were two-fold, the first of which was guilt. I worried that I’d sent a seemingly innocent young woman into what I knew would be a den of iniquity.”
    “And your second reason?” she asked, her brows rising in disbelief.
    Michael answered with complete sincerity, his eyes never leaving her. “I couldn’t stop thinking of how lovely you are... Your hair, your skin, your perfectly shaped bottom which had been so prominently displayed when first we met. You have many charming traits to recommend you, Abigail. If you'd but let me, I could demonstrate my devotion to your many lovely attributes.””
    Though his words were perfectly innocent, or at least most of them were, the hidden meaning was more than apparent. That she understood, his meaning was clear from the panic in her gaze. She stuttered a bit, as she said, “I need to help, Mrs. Wolcot.” Immediately, she began to beat a hasty retreat.
    Michael lunged forward, not willing to let her go so easily. She doubted his attraction to her, and in his somewhat self-serving viewpoint, there was only one way to disabuse her of such notions. He caught her around the waist, his arm snaking around her, hauling her back against him. His arms closed around her, pulling her close, feeling the softness and the warmth of her generously curved body