Page 50 of Brigand

“What? Beat me?”

He frowned. “I don’t beat women. Where did you get the ideaI beat women?”

“You’re a villain.”

“I don’t beat women—”

“Kaitlin?” Ah, hell. Violet thrust her head out between thecurtains, her eyes wide. “Oh, Kaitlin! Is that you?” She emerged from the bed,wrapping a blanket around her body, and flew across the solar to fold Kaitlinin a hug.

“Darling. You look—” Kaitlin’s gaze raked Violet. She paled.“Are you naked?” She fixed him with a scorching frown. “Is she naked? Why isshe naked?”

Because he’d fucked her. All night long. Again and again andagain.

He glared at her and didn’t respond.

“Darling,” Violet sighed. It annoyed Ewan that she wasn’ttalking to him in that tone. “It’s so good to see you. But what are you doinghere? You’re supposed to be in London.”

Kaitlin tipped her chin up a notch. Ewan could see she wasstruggling to be brave. “I came to rescue you.”

Sadness swept over Violet’s face. It made his heart ache.She put her palm to her friend’s cheek. “You really shouldn’t have come. Nowyou will have to marry him.”

He didn’t like the way she said it. Not at all. He clearedthe annoyance from his throat. “I’m standing right here.”

They ignored him.

“I had to come,” Kaitlin gushed. “I couldn’t bear the thoughtof you being held in his evil clutches because of me.”

Annoyance curled into irritation. “I’m in the room.”

“I know, but darling, how can I ever bear it? Knowing yougave up your freedom for mine? That you surely face a fate worse than death…”

A fate worse than death? What manner of melodrama was this?It was exactly why he’d kept the two of them apart. “I can hear you!” hebellowed.

They turned to him and Kaitlin frowned, pinning him with aglower that made him wriggle like a worm on a hook. “Why is Violet naked?”

Well hell. He could hardly tell her the truth. “To keep herfrom escaping.” Not the best of his reasons but certainly one of them.

Her brow thundered. “You are a brute,” she spat. “Anabsolute beast. And you want me to marry you?”

No. No! His soul howled. He did not!

Her face twisted into a peevish mien. “I swear to God inheaven above. I shall make your life a living, breathing hell.”

Of that, he had no doubt.

He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t. Couldn’t findthe words. A scratch on the door saved him from answering.

“What?” he yelled.

“Sir, there are visitors.”

“Stinking hell. More visitors?” He tunneled his fingersthrough his hair. “This place was supposed to be remote.” He stomped to thewindow and peered out. Acid churned in his gut. A fancy carriage with a crestemblazoned on the door was parked by the pier on the far side of the river,surrounded by a milling herd of people. The skiff bobbed on the river, halfwayto the island. His visitors from the day before were aboard. The Duke ofMoncrieff, it seemed, didn’t waste any time.

“Fuck.”

It was over. Done. He’d made love to her for the final time.

He hated the sinking desolation assailing him.