To a man she’d met once.
And she didn’t quite remember it, to be honest.
“There are things you need to know about the man you mean to marry,” he said.
“Oh yes?” It came out as a breath. How could she breathe properly when this strange man still had an arm wrapped firmly about her waist? “And what is that?”
“He is not what he seems,” the man murmured.
Lord Evil. The nickname rang in her ears and she scowled. Silly Louisa. It was her fault she harbored even the tiniest of doubts about his character. He’d never done anything really wrong, of that she was certain. For if he had he would not be celebrated by all the ton at this particular moment, now would he? The thought heartened her.
“You do not know him,” he said. “Lord Everley is—”
“Pardon me, but this is the man I am to marry.” Her tone conveyed nothing but disdain. “There is nothing you can say that will make a difference to me,” she said, her nose tilting upward as it was wont to do when she was lying.
He likely did know things about her betrothed. A good many things. Things she might not wish to hear…
But what good would that do her? Everley was the man she was to marry. Hearing rumors about his foul deeds wouldn’t change that. This was precisely why she’d been avoiding Louisa and Addie.
Prudence too, but mostly because Pru would ask her questions she did not wish to answer.
But the other two—they would wish to tell her things. False things. Hypothetical things.
She tugged against the arm that held her, but she might as well have been battling a stone wall. She grunted in irritation as her brief struggle only succeeded in making his grip tighten to the point that she could not easily breathe.
She’d been struggling to breathe all night, but this had less to do with crippling fear and tight stays, and everything to do with the forearm that was now lodged firmly beneath her ribs. “I need air,” she said.
Instantly his grip loosened, and if she’d been quicker—if she’d been afraid the way she ought to be—she would have used that opportunity to fight her way out of his embrace.
As it was, she found herself resting against his chest as she took a deep, calming breath.
His chest was so broad, so firm, so secure, so…sculpted—she might have been resting on her own personal throne.
“Better?”
She could feel his chest vibrate against her with that word.
She nodded.
She was better, oddly enough. While reason dictated that she should be afraid for her very life, she found that she was rather content just now. His embrace was warm and strong and…comforting.
It was also highly improper.
“Do you know, if anyone were to walk in and find us like this, you’ll be in just as much trouble as me,” she mused.
His laugh was quiet and…nice. “I had considered that, yes.”
4
Rupert hadn’t just considered this fact. It had been on his mind from the moment he’d dragged her unceremoniously into this room.
If he got caught in Everley’s office, it would mean trouble. But if he got caught with Everley’s bride-to-be…?
What am I doing? The question echoed in his mind like a gong.
What on earth was he doing?
His mission tonight had been simple. Slip inside this opulent ball and search Everley’s office. Everley was too smart to leave incriminating evidence lying about, but he might have found some clue, something to point him in the right direction. A sliver of a clue that might help him pick up his old investigation, which had grown cold and fruitless years ago.
But things were different now.
Everley had grown comfortable. He’d even gone and gotten himself engaged, for heaven’s sake. Surely that was a sign that Everley’s heightened state of paranoia and careful precision were faltering. After all, he was letting this little minx into his life.
Into his house…
The little minx in question shifted against him. “You must surely understand that it would be best for both of us if you let me go at once.”
He stared down at the top of her head. From this point of view, all he could make out was dark curls and the pale glow of a high cheekbone but he’d seen enough earlier in the glow of the candlelight.
The girl was a beauty. A diamond of the first water. She could have had her pick of husbands, so how had she ended up with a cruel soul like Everley?
The answer was obvious, of course. Her father had arranged it. Either the old curmudgeon didn’t know the extent of Everley’s cruel nature or he didn’t care. Knowing the two gentlemen involved, he knew without a doubt that this was a business arrangement. Somehow they were both profiting from the merger.
But how?
And at whose expense?
He dipped his head slightly and caught another tantalizing whiff of the scent that had been driving him crazy from the moment he’d first held her close. She smelled of citrus and honey, with a hint of vanilla. A heady blend of sweet and tart that seemed to have entered his system and demand that he take more.
A man could grow addicted to this scent…to the feel of her in his arms…
Oh yes, Everley had found himself a most enticing bride. She would be the perfect addition to this world he was building for himself. The pretty princess on his arm. The smiling, perfect little doll to be pulled out for societal functions and placed back on her shelf when no longer needed.
Poor girl. Did this regal little thing have any idea of what life held in store for her?
He guessed not. Despite her air of confidence and her haughty, imperious tone…he sensed a vulnerability there that she could not quite hide. Not from him. Not when he held her close like this. Not when he could feel her heart beating wildly against its cage.
Her voice grew cold and hard. “I am waiting.”
Rupert grinned. He couldn’t help it.
