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Authors: Sabrina Jeffries

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BOOK: Don't Bargain with the Devil
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She did not look particularly ill. And as she passed the lantern, the light shone through the transparent fabric to silhouette her delectable body.

 

His breath caught at the luscious sight. “Lucy?” he choked out. “Nettie said you had a fever.”

 

She halted beside the bed. “Nettie lied. I merely wanted to be alone with you. To talk. Among…other things.” She sat down on the mattress with a seductive smile that gave no doubt what other things she meant.

 

As the blood rushed to his head—both heads—he struggled to keep control. Damn Nettie for maneuvering this. The last thing he needed was to be alone with Lucy when she was playing the seductress.

 

“I do not know what you think to accomplish with this little game,” he said, “but I want no part of it.”

 

He strode to the door and grabbed the handle, but it was locked. How could that be?

 

“Nettie, you foolish wench, open this door at once!”

 

“That will do you no good,” Lucy said from behind him.

 

Tamping down the urges her silky voice brought roaring to the surface, he pounded on the door. “Damn you, Nettie, I will not pay you a penny of the twenty pounds Gaspar offered unless you open this door right now!”

 

“Funny thing about that,” Lucy said smoothly. “I decided to heed your excellent advice about making good use of my new fortune. My first purchase was Nettie’s services. She works for
me
now, since I have promised her quite a raise in pay once we reach Spain.”

 

As he whirled on Lucy, she added smoothly, “Also, she doesn’t
have
the key.” She dangled it on a string from one slender finger, her eyes gleaming. “. do.” Bending over, she pushed it under the bed, where it slid to the wall. “Or I did.”

 

She straightened, giving him a glimpse of the full breasts loose inside her chemise, and his cock shot instantly to attention.

 

Dios Santo!
This grew worse by the moment. “How did you get the key?”

 

“Nettie procured it from the captain. Not directly, of course. She had to steal it. But apparently he’s not nearly as high and mighty as you when it comes to enjoying life’s pleasures.”

 

“Fortunately, I am not so easy to manipulate,” he ground out.

 

“Who said anything about manipulation? This is blackmail.” Lucy untied her chemise with languid motions that turned his blood to fire. “You know what blackmail is. You used it on
me
to gain my company at the school.” Her voice turned steely. “And I learned the lesson you taught me very, very well.”

 

With a shaky laugh, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Just how do you mean to blackmail me,
carińo?
And what do you plan to gain from it?”

 

“It’s simple, really.” She kicked her legs back and forth, looking for all the world like a little girl.

 

Except for the scant clothing. And the luscious cascade of hair. And the body he fiercely wanted to ravage.

 

He swallowed. Hard.

 

“I don’t want to marry a stranger,” she went on, “and if I arrive in Spain with my virtue intact, that’s almost certain to happen.”

 

“I told you, your grandfather will not force you into anything.”

 

“I don’t think nearly as well of men of rank as you do. They’ve done little to make me trust them.”

 

He cursed under his breath. She was not just speaking of Hunforth, was she?

 

“Grandfather or no,” she continued, “the
marqués
appears to have one aim, and that is to get his heir. I’m not ready to oblige him in that respect. So I plan to get rid of my virtue before we reach Spain. And I plan to do it with you.”

 

That roused images in his fevered brain which would have sent a weaker man crawling over broken glass to bed her. But he was not such a man. “You mean to make sure I lose my chance at regaining my estate. Is that it? You think to revenge yourself against me and your grandfather in
one fell swoop by beguiling me into your bed? Ending my hopes for the future at the same time you end his?”

 

“No,” she said coolly. “This isn’t about revenge. Don’t worry, you’ll get your precious property.
If
you do as I say.”

 

That flummoxed him. “What do you mean?”

 

She rose from the bed to pad toward him, a cat toying with its prey. “If you share my bed, I’ll make sure my grandfather never finds out. I can always blame my loss of innocence on Peter, assuming that my chastity proves as important to my grandfather as I suspect. But if you
don’t
share my bed, I’ll tell him about all the times you kissed me and touched me…all the
places
you touched me. And you will never regain your estate.”

 

He froze as she circled him, her sweet violet scent engulfing his senses. “He will not care about that as long as I have not ruined you,” he lied.

 

“Oh, I will arrive ruined,” she said silkily. Halting behind him, she whispered in his ear, “If not by you, then by the captain or one of his men.”

 

In a fury, he turned to seize her by the shoulders. “The hell you will!” He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. “I will lock you up before I—”

 

Hostias.
She’d made that difficult by stealing the key.

 

She stared at him with a taunting smile, a vixen sure of her power. “If you force me to turn elsewhere, I’ll make sure you get blamed for it. All the punishment and none of the pleasure. As you said when you blackmailed
me,
the choice is yours.”

 

“Not much of a choice,” he ground out.

 

“That’s why it’s called blackmail.” She began to untie his cravat. “Besides, you and my grandfather are giving
me
no choice. I don’t see why I should give you any.”

 

He caught her hands, gripping them to keep from putting his own hands where they did not belong. “You think you have won, don’t you?”

 

She gazed at him, clear-eyed. “Yes.”

 

“You are a scheming little witch,” he hissed.

 

A smile touched her lips. “Yes.”

 

Torn between anger and admiration at her clever plan, he yanked her against him roughly, his arm manacling her waist. Though she gasped, she met his furious stare with eyes that shone luminous and triumphant in the lantern light.

 

Surely she was bluffing about giving herself to another. But did he dare risk it? And why was he fighting, anyway? She offered what he’d been waiting for: the chance to kiss her, caress her, make love to her without repercussions.

 

Yet that terrified him. Once he had her in his bed, he might never want to let her out.

 

“Well?” She managed to imbue that one word with a wealth of meaning. “What’s it to be, Master of Mystery?” She stretched up on tiptoe to nip his ear, sending a jolt of desire flashing down his spine to stiffen his cock.

 

He gripped her head in his hands. “You will regret this later,” he growled.

 

“I doubt that very much,” she whispered with a mesmerizing smile. Then she kissed him, a sweetly innocent kiss that pushed him over the edge into madness.

 

In a frenzy, he took her mouth, devouring it, plundering it, dizzy from the pleasure of it after being deprived of it for days. She was his for tonight,
his,
damn it, and he meant to brand her as his for all eternity.

 

As he reveled in how eagerly she met his kisses, he swept his hands down to fondle her breasts, which might as well
have been naked for all the protection her chemise afforded. Which he wanted naked
now.

 

He tore his lips free. “So you wish to lose your innocence to the devil?”

 

“It’s not a matter of wishing, is it?” she said stiffly. “It’s either that or lose it to a husband who’s been picked for me, and I refuse to do the latter.”

 

Annoyed by her persistence in believing the worst of her grandfather, he left her to go sit on the bed. When she started to follow, he said, “No, stay there.”

 

A perplexed look crossed her face. “I thought—”

 

He tugged off his boots. “You thought you would take charge. You thought you would lead me about by my
cojones.
” Tearing off his cravat, he threw it aside. “We will do this my way or not at all. Which is it to be?”

 

“I don’t see why you care
how
it’s done as long as you get to do it,” she said.

 

That ignited his temper anew. While he sat aching for her, she meant to go about losing her chastity like a general leading a campaign. She probably expected him to play the rutting pig and take her with blithe unconcern, so she could dismiss him once it was over, the way she’d dismissed him that night in the duke’s library.

 

Well, his little seductress was in for a surprise. He meant to make her realize the enormity of her decision, be fully aware of what she chose. As aware as
he
was.

 

“The ‘how’ matters a great deal.” He peeled off his coat and waistcoat, then tossed them aside. “So, do we do it my way? Or not at all?” He prayed she would not call his bluff. Although he did not want her playing the sacrificial virgin in his bed, neither would he permit her to turn to one of the others.

 

She lifted her chin, offering him a maddening glimpse of her lovely throat. “That depends. What
is
your way? What do you want me to do?”

 

“You can start by doing more than teasing me with glimpses of your body.” He leaned back on his elbows to scour every inch of her. “Take off your chemise,
querida.
I wish to see what I will be selling my honor for.”

 

 

 

ďťż

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

 

 

Dear Cousin,

 

One piece of interesting information has come out of our discussions with Seńor Montalvo’s assistant, Gaspar. It appears that Diego Montalvo is a Spanish count! So
…
perhaps it really
was
an elopement. We begin to believe they traveled by sea, possibly to Scotland though more likely to Spain. A neighbor saw people boarding a steam packet in the wee hours of the morning on the day in question but was not close enough to confirm it as them.

 

Your concerned friend,

 

Charlotte

 

 

H
onor, hah! Lucy scowled at him. As if the scoundrel had any honor, trying to dictate the terms of this seduction.

 

And what did he mean by expecting her to disrobe for him? Nettie had said men never bothered to do that with tarts—they just moved the clothes enough to get to whatever they wanted. Undressing entirely while he watched was far more intimate than she’d anticipated.

 

“Take it off,
carińo.
” His commanding voice sent a delicious warmth pooling in her belly. The dim light left his
face in shadow, but his eyes glinted hungry, hard, and eager as they devoured her. She found that terribly exciting.

 

“But I’m naked underneath,” she protested weakly.

 

“Did you not expect me to see you naked?”

 

She had hoped he wouldn’t. “I thought you would…you know…do what you did at the Foxmoors’. Lift my skirts—”

 

“And take you like a savage, so you can keep hating me once we are done?”

 

Annoyed by how close he came to the mark, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Something like that.”

 

“Abandon that idea right now.” Keeping his brooding gaze fixed on her, he rose to circle her as she’d circled him earlier. “If I must play the stud horse to your mare, I shall enjoy it. And make
you
enjoy it as well. I will pleasure you until you beg for more, even if it takes me all night.”

 

“All night! But…but…Nettie will want to sleep here!”

 

“I doubt your fellow conspirator will have trouble finding a comfortable berth.” He came up behind her to wrap his hand in her unbound hair.

 

“Diego, we cannot—”

 

“It is the only way I will agree to your scheme.” He tugged her head back just enough so his mouth could plunder the skin of her throat.

 

A dangerous thrill coursed through her that shook her to her toes. Lord help her, how could she survive a whole night of such tender caresses?

 

This was supposed to be swift, impersonal. That’s why she’d worn only her shift—to inflame him into dispensing with preliminaries. She’d thought he’d just lift the hem, do
his part, and be done. No long seduction full of tempting kisses and sweet words.

 

This was
so
like Diego.

 

He released her hair without moving his lips from her neck. “I intend to take my time with you,” he said darkly, throwing her plans into confusion. “I will taste and touch every part of you—as often as I wish, as thoroughly as I wish.”

 

A thrill shot through her that wouldn’t be denied.

 

He laid his hand on her waist and slid it down her hips in an intimate caress that made her gasp. “You will not hide yourself from me tonight,
mi dulzura.
So if it is a quick deflowering you want, best to abandon that scheme right now.”

 

The dratted devil thought to cow her into giving up her plans by threatening to make his seduction last all night. Well, that wouldn’t work.

 

“I am sure Rafael would still welcome me in his bed,” she countered.

 

His hand stiffened on her behind. “Go ahead, if that is what you want. He will be happy to rid you of your virtue in whatever manner you dictate. He is not as particular in his bed partners as I am.”

 

She tensed. Would he really give her up to Rafael? She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t be sure. “You know I don’t want Rafael,” she rasped, relinquishing even that weapon.

 

“And I don’t want to make love to a martyr.” He moved in front of her, far enough away to see all of her, close enough to touch her if he wished. “These are my conditions. Do you accept them?”

 

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” She couldn’t bear anyone else taking her innocence.
BOOK: Don't Bargain with the Devil
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