Free The Devil Rogue by Lori Villarreal

one in particular Ian wished her to attend . He ’ d orchestrated a plan that when set into motion would truly mark the end to her position in society . It was cruel, but no less than she deserved.
    “Thank you, my lord!”
    Her face beamed with pleasure over such a trivial matter . Earlier s he ’d clearly been concern ed for the servants, she’d been grateful that he’d sent for her belongings, and now she appeared joyful over the fact that she was to sew her own gowns . This was not in keeping with his image of the pampered daughter of a wealthy b aron . Either he had sorely misjudged her or she was the greatest actress in the land.
    Mentally strengthening his resolve, Ian tempere d his softening feelings toward her . He would use her, ruin her, and then toss her to the wolves for the part she’d played in the death of his friend . He chose to ignore the nudging of his conscience that warned him he could be wrong about her . He was sure of her guilt, along with her father’s , and nothing – not even her innocent act – would sway him.
    The meal progressed as they talked , the servants performing their duties with their usual efficiency, blending into the background . With dinner finished, Ian’s thoughts turned to the evening’s entertainment . He was looking forward to witnessing Miss Hopkins in her role as bath slave . It would definitely knock her down a few levels from her privileged pedestal.
    Angela hadn’t tasted a single thing during dinner . She could have been eating sawdust and not noticed the difference . H er nerves were on edge , as always , whenever Blackridge was near . From be neath her lashes, she ’d watched him sip his wine, analyzed the way his lips met the smooth edge of the fine crystal glass . Her gaze had lingered on his throat as he swallowed, giving her the insane desire to kiss him there .
    The fingers that held the glass by its delicate stem were long and tapered , the nails well-manicured . She could easily imagine those fingers running along her sensitive skin, touching her breasts .
    G oodness ! The room seemed suddenly over-warm . S he raised her eyes to look at him fully, her heart skipp ing a beat when she realized he was looking at her intensely .
    “Did you not enjoy your meal, Miss Hopkins?” he inquired in a husky voice .
    “ I apologize if my appetite hasn’t done justice to the wonderful fare served this evening, my lord,” Angela responded , h er heart still thumping madly . “I only need time to acclimate to my new surroundings.”
    “Ah , not used to sleeping in strange beds, is that it?”
    Angela sat up straighter . “Certainly not, my lord . Contrary to what you might believe, there are those of us who re main in our own beds at night.”
    “Who said anything about the night ? Beds are extremely useful for activities other than sleeping. And might I remind you that you’re about to be sleeping in my bed soon, or have you conveniently forgotten?”
    Her mouth went suddenly dry . “I’ve not forgotten, my lord.” She needed no reminders about what loomed on the near horizon, nor did she need to be reminded of her impending bathing session with the much too handsome viscount . At least s he had successfully gotten his permission to make her own gowns, rather than have them made for her .
    What was she going to do when it came time to become his mistress in reality ? Angela experienced a moment of panic as she logically assumed they would both be unclothed . Of course they would be naked ! How else would the deed get done ? But then, one never knew the habits of men and women doing such things .
    Would she be able to hide her scars from him ?
    There had to be another way. If there was one horror Angela could think of, it would be for someone, a stranger, to get a look at her scarred body . That was why she’d refused to have a modiste fit her for clothes. Rosemary was the only one who knew the extent of her disfigurement.
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