Adele berated herself as she was laid upon a piece of furniture—what felt like a bed, much to her horror. Although she had done her utmost to prepare herself for the sacrifice she would have to make for Max, being on a bed, alone with the demonic, beautiful man who had been so terrifying, made her heart pound and her mouth go dry.
Where had he taken her?
Whose bed was she on?
Surely it was nothis?
Feigning a swoon had not, perhaps, been the best idea she had ever entertained. However, in the moment Dominic Winter had tossed her cavalierly over his shoulder, so intent upon being rid of her he was willing to extract her by force, it had been the only tactic which had risen to her befuddled mind.
Her veil and hat, which had remained happily in place for the duration of her impromptu upside-down travels, was removed. The pins keeping it sternly in place for the sake of her modesty plucked out some of her hair. Adele could not quell the hiss of her breath or the flutter of her eyelids at the unexpected action and accompanying twinge of pain.
Drat.
Her heart pounded.
She prayed he had not seen her reaction.
“You may as well open your eyes now, madam,” came the low, gruff voice.
How she wished that voice did not settle over her like a caress, sinking low into her belly in a tangle of unwanted, confused sensations. This man was evil personified, she reminded herself. He was baseborn and greedy, violent and murderous.
Dangerous.
Untrustworthy.
Capable of anything. Responsible for Max’s brutal beating although he denied it.
She kept her eyes closed and breathed carefully, attempting to remain as still as possible. She was not ready to face him yet. Not ready for him to attempt to send her out the door once more. It was not every night she could steal away from her family unnoticed. And it was not anything ordinary she was fighting to protect.
It was her beloved brother. His life, his welfare. She would do anything to help him. What other choice did she have?
“I saw you wince when I removed your hat and veil,” he said.
Adele fought the urge to bite her lip. What was she to do now?
Think, Adele! Think!
The sudden weight of a large hand upon her breast shocked her out of inaction. Long fingers squeezed. Not hard enough to cause pain. Rather the opposite. Stunning, unexpected pleasure rippled through Adele.Good heavens, he was cupping her possessively, touching her in a place no man before him had ever dared. Her nipple hardened into a tight peak beneath her stays.
A diabolically handsome face hovered above hers. She blinked, falling into those obsidian eyes, noting the rakish manner in which a lock of midnight hair fell over his brow. How was it possible a heartless villain with such a black soul could be so staggeringly beautiful?
“As I thought,” he pronounced, his tone forbidding.
His hand relinquished her breast.
She swallowed, trying not to mourn the loss of his touch. How foolish such a sensation would be. The product, she had no doubt, of her confusion. Mayhap even the result of being tossed over his monstrous shoulder. She was dizzy and terrified for her brother’s life, and that was all.
“Where have you brought me?” she demanded, struggling to right herself.
He did not need to answer her query, for she could see where he had taken her. To a bedchamber. A surprisingly sumptuous one at that. The space was thoroughly masculine, and it smelled of him in a way she did not find at all disagreeable. Quite the opposite, in fact. Apparently, scoundrels could smell as inviting as the most perfect gentlemen.
Who knew?
“Do not play the coquette with me, madam,” he told her sternly. “Though you have the face of an angel, we both know you are no stranger to the bedroom.”
She tried not to allow his taunt to sting. Because she wanted him to believe she was Max’s mistress. Shehadto make him believe it. Everything weighed upon her ability to make this terrifying man do what she wanted.
“Forgive me for swooning.” Adele forced herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
