It would have been too much to ask for him not to go out of his way to humiliate her at every given opportunity.
“I thought we agreed not to tell anyone about our little jaunt in the garden,” he said, bowing his head to hers. The dance began and she felt his proximity like a flare. Her skin tingled even though he wasn’t touching her directly, because she could remember the way hehad.
Darkness. Warm breath. That heady sense of beingwanted.
“I said nothing,” she hissed back.
“And yet here we are.”
“Because ofyou.”
He frowned, eyes slits now. “No, little bird. Because of you. My brother died before you could get your hands on his title, so you supposed you could entrap me into marriage. But if you ever thought that would succeed then I’m delighted to disappoint you.”
She would have jerked away if he wasn’t holding her so tightly. “Entrapyou?”
“Well, what would you call it? I am a marquess and you are the daughter of a man whose only defining feature is his propensity to lose at the card table.”
Annabelle forgot she was in full view; she forgot they were outside with the darkened sky and flaming torches, and that a quartet played slow, gentle music around them. All she could think about was how much shehatedJacob Barrington.
“You do not get to speak about my father like that!”
“Is that not his reputation?”
“Is not yoursworse?”
He smirked. “Believe me, my lady, when I tell you I knowexactlywhat my reputation is.”
“Then you should have a very clear idea of why Idon’twant to marry you.”
“Is that so?” His voice lowered into a sticky hum that clung to all her senses, soaking her in awareness that felt as flammable as tar. His fingers dug in uncomfortably on her waist, and although there was a smile on his face, it didn’t reach his eyes. “You may pretend you dislike me, but I know better, sweetheart.” His gaze latched onto the uneven thrum of her pulse and his smile was all cruel amusement. “You want me, Annabelle. And you hate yourself for it.”
Her heart thudded, betraying her. Every part of her was aware of him—and he was right, she despised herself for it. “This is entirely untrue,” she snapped. “Idon’t want to marry you. Is that so difficult to understand?”
His eyes widened very slightly, and his lips thinned. “Then why,” he said, pulling her indecently close so he could breathe in her ear, “is there an announcement in the newspaper claiming we are engaged?”
“I thought you had put it there.”
“Me?” He threw his head back and laughed. “Why would Ipossiblywant to marry you, little bird?”
The words stung, though she tried not to let them. “I have a large dowry.”
“And I have a fortune all of my own to squander.”
“Fine.” She glowered up at him, contriving to forget the eyes on them and the hot bodies that occasionally brushed against her. Nothing held her attention long except for the Marquess, who looked down at her as though he knewexactlywhat she was thinking.
“So if neither of us did, then that poses the question of whodidput the announcement there,” she said.
“Your sister?”
“Of course not! Theo would never do such a thing. She doesn’t evenwantme to marry you. And my mother was as surprised as we all were. Natha—the Duke’s theory is that whoever did it had something to gain.” She gave him a meaningful look.
“Then you would be better looking elsewhere,” he said smoothly. “Marriage is not something I aspire towards.”
“What is?” she heard herself say, though she didn’t know why. She didn’t have interest in this man and his unconventional life choices.
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Debauchery, mostly, little bird. Why, do you want in?”
“No!” Her cheeks flushed and he chuckled, the sound soft and sinful, making her think of silken sheets and midnight kisses. He would, no doubt, be a better lover than any of the men inFanny Hill. And she had absolutely no interest in learning more about it.
