“Then—oh, my God, please! Help me.”
A slow, cynical smile curved into his lip. “For payment, madame, always for payment.”
“Of course, I told you, I have gold—”
“And I have told you, I do not want your gold.”
“Then—”
“I want you, milady.”
Skye gasped. “But—”
“You, milady. I have named my price. I will have you. Just as I had you upon Bone Cay. Scented softly from the bath, sweet and seductive, your hair a sunset blaze about your naked shoulders, and most of all…your will agreeable to the act, your heart and body not just willing, but eager.”
“I—I can’t!”
He smiled and released her, turning away. “That is my price, and my final offer. Take it or leave it.”
She stamped a foot furiously against the ground. “I cannot pay such a price! I’m—I am married now.”
“Now you think of such a thing!” he said. “You were married at the very time we lay together before.”
“I did not know it then.”
“You knew you were betrothed.”
“What does it matter! I cannot pay this price.”
He shook his head, still smiling, as he picked up his black frockcoat and pulled it around his shoulders. He found his scabbard and buckled it around his waist. He set his hat atop his head and found his pistol to shove into his waist.
He tipped his plumed hat to her.
“Then, adieu, milady. I will take your advice and vacate the premises.” He strode past her toward the door.
“No!” Skye cried out.
He turned around and arched a brow to her slowly.
“I’ll—I’ll pay.”
“You will?” He waited. “And what of your ardent husband?”
“It is none of your concern! I said that I will pay.”
“Perhaps it is every bit my concern.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” he said swiftly. He strode back into the room and took her hand. He turned it over and planted a kiss on it. Then his eyes met hers. “Our bargain is made, milady.”
“Yes.”
“I will collect upon the payment, come what may.”
“Yes.” Silver chills raced along her spine. She had made a bargain in hell, she thought.
What of her ardent husband?
