“Will you not at least hear what I have to say before you refuse me?” she asked.
Curse her, but she was determined. And bold. And if she was as lovely as her voice beneath that damned veil…
“No,” he told her. “You have nothing to say which would be of interest.”
But still, the pugnacious creature would not go.
“Would you have me beg you?” The desperation creeping into her voice was not lost upon him.
He was not moved by it. Nor was he any more likely to allow her to say her piece. He had to ring for Devil before she started to weep. He turned and headed for the bell pull secreted behind his desk. There was nothing worse than a woebegone woman. Mayhap he needed to remove her bodily himself. Doing so would save time and irritation. Coldhearted bastard he may be, but never let it be said Dom Winter was not efficient.
“Begging will do nothing for you, madam,” he said over his shoulder, his tone grim, his decision made. “You may return to your cowardly lover and tell him Dominic Winter will not accept his Drury Lane vestal in exchange for funds owed.”
Callous of him, mayhap. The finely dressed woman he’d had in his arms was an entire kingdom above a common doxy plying her wares. Dom may have been born to the rookeries, but he knew when something was expensive. When something was out of his reach.
“Please, Mr. Winter,” she said, showing a fair amount of courage—or an actress’s talent, more like—by clinging to her cause. “I will do anything you ask of me. Please do not send your men to beat him again. Or worse, to m-murder him.”
Dom rounded his desk once more without ringing the pull and approached his uninvited guest. He was about to toss her over his shoulder when the last of her words pierced his cloud of irritation. He stopped.
“This protector of yours,” he began, his mind working quickly, wondering at the odds, searching for a connection, “he was beaten?”
“Horribly.” Her breath hitched on what he did not doubt was a sob. “By your men. I—I came upon him bloodied and bruised, his face swelled so badly I scarcely recognized him.”
Floating hell.
“What is his name?”
“Sundenbury,” she whispered. “The marquess. Please, sir. I beg you not to send more of your men…”
She sounded as if she were going to be ill.
Dom knew all the coves who attended his establishments by their vices and their debts, but he paid special attention to the marquess for his own reasons. Sundenbury liked gambling and drink. Bad at the green baize. Excellent at draining the arrack and giving the bottle a black eye. Dom was in possession of a number of the marquess’s vowels, and in the process of gaining more.
“Your protector lied if he told you my men were responsible for his basting.” With that certain pronouncement, Dom settled his hands on her waist once more, the better to haul her over his shoulder and force her exit.
But damn it all, her curves molded against his hands in the most delightful way. What a terrible shame for a woman with a body so lush to be kept by a blackleg like Sundenbury.
“He would never lie about such a matter, not to me,” she insisted, secure in her delusions. “I am begging you to spare his life and further harm. I will give you anything you want.”
Her words should not have intrigued him. Should not have made his cock harden even more. Anything he wanted…
He had to face the stinging realization he very much wantedher. But not as the lightskirt of the Marquess of Sundenbury and not as a damned sacrificial lamb. Anger filled him, and he welcomed it. Rage was his old friend.
Rage was what he had built his kingdom upon. Along with cunning, his family, and his fists. And he was not about to put his power in jeopardy by allowing a luscious wench to cozen him into saving her lover. Especially not when her lover was Sundenbury.
“I do not want anything you have to give.” He bent, wrapped his arm around her bottom, and threw her over his shoulder.
He was halfway to the exit before he realized the feisty woman who had intruded upon his day with her demands had yet to offer a word of resistance. Before he realized her body was draped over his like a lifeless sack, her arms bouncing listlessly off his back with each purposeful stride he took.
Devil approached him with a questioning look and an accompanying growl.
Dom sighed.
Either the troublesome female had swooned, or she was the greatest actress of the young century.
Chapter 2
Do not move.Do not blink. Do not twitch. Do nothing to make him realize you are awake. Everything depends on it, on you.
