“But what would become of him?”
“I will reunite him with his mother.”
“The woman abandoned him!”
“She left him to my tender care.”
“Which proves her insanity.”
He surged out of the bed. “You unreasonable termagant! Whatever you’re up to, you’re completely unsuited to be companion to my great-aunts. God knows what your plan is there.”
“Plan! My only plan is to take care of them. What is yours, my lord?”
“To rid them of weevils like you.”
“Weevils!” Infuriated, Genova pushed him awaywith all her strength. He toppled, but he grabbed the front of her robe as he fell, taking her with him back onto his mattress. Genova thumped on top of him, hearing her tambour frame crack.
As soon as she had her breath back, she hit him over the head with the sagging halves of it. “Plague take you, you poxy knave!”
Laughing, he snatched it, tossed it, then cinched her to him for a sizzling kiss, turning them as he did so, so she was under him.
Genova fought and he released her lips, still laughing. For the first time in her life she understood the urge to scratch someone’s eyes out, but the vile man had her trapped.
And she was on fur. On the deep wolf fur of his cloak that she felt sliding beneath her, even through clothes. Somehow, she’d lost her slippers, so when she tried to use her feet to escape him, silky fur fought her.
“I’m sorry about your needlework frame,” he murmured in apparent seriousness, though something not so sober danced in his eyes.
“Let me go so I can see what damage you’ve done.”
“You pushed me.”
“With provocation.”
“Perhaps.” Smiling, he nuzzled her cheek. “Or is this what you wanted all along?”
She heaved at him again, but he hardly moved. “Let me up or I’ll scream.”
“Do you really want to be forced to marry me?”
“I’ll see you hang for rape.”
“Unlikely, don’t you think?”
His confidence was as unshakable as his body, and probably with reason.
“You’re a fascinating woman, Miss Genova Smith,” he whispered against her cheek, so she had to fight for sanity.
“And you are a rakish reprobate, Lord Ashart.”
If she could get a hand free, could she reach his pistol? She wriggled. His response was to press down more heavily, amused eyes on hers.
“Does it take one to know one? You’re an adventuress, my spicypandolce, and if you want adventure…”
He lowered his lips to hers and somehow she could not bring herself to fight as she should.Pandolce.The Christmas sweet bread of Genova in Italy. Sweet as his lips on hers.
It had been so long since she’d blended her mouth with a man’s like this, felt a strong body over hers. She sighed and surrendered, knowing she’d wanted this since she’d met him. And dear heaven, how he could kiss….
“Ash! Molly! Oh, by Jupiter, I do beg your pardon.”
