The Sinner (31 page)

“I am grateful that you have finally received me, Duchess,” he said, announcing his presence. Actually, she had not agreed to receive him at all. He had threatened and bluffed his way past the butler.

Her lids slit and she peered down her body at him. She wore a garment that swaddled her from breasts to bare feet, but which left her neck and arms uncovered, revealing pale, glowing skin. In the low light he could not judge her face well, but her hair was a mass of dark curls tamed by a gold band circling her head.

She looked very sensual with the red silk wrapping her curves and her armlets and anklets gleaming in the candlelight. The blond, bare-chested man who held her thought so too. Adrian half-expected him to take a bite out of her while he watched.

The duchess gave Adrian a frank assessment and he returned one of his own. The only living child of the last Duke of Everdon had attained instant importance with her father’s unexpected death. For the last two weeks everyone who was anyone in England had been speculating about Sophia Raughley, and wondering what she had been up to during her long absence from England.

Adrian did not relish reporting the answer to the men who had sent him here. From the looks of things, the new duchess had occupied herself lo these last eight years in Paris with becoming a shameless libertine.

She twisted out of her lover’s hold and stretched to grope for the card, almost falling off the chaise longue. She appeared childishly clumsy suddenly, and a bit helpless, and Adrian experienced a pang of pity. He picked up the card and placed it in her fingers. She squinted, and gestured to her partner to bring a candle close.

“Mister Adrian Burchard,” she read.

“At your service, Your Grace. If we could speak privately, please.”

Gathering her drapery, she rose to her feet. With the breeding of centuries stiffening her posture, she faced him.

“I think that I know what service you offer, and you have wasted your journey. I am not going back with you.”

Of course she was. “Again, I ask to speak with you privately.”

“Come back tomorrow.”

“I have come the last two days, and now tonight. It is time for you to hear what I have to say. It is time for you to face reality.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. She advanced toward him. For a moment she appeared quite formidable. Then her foot caught in the flowing silk. She tripped and hurtled forward, right into his arms.

He grappled with the feminine onslaught, gripping her soft back and bottom. She wore no stays or petticoats under that red silk. No wonder her blond Arab gleamed with expectation.

She looked up in dazed shock, her green eyes glinting. Her smile of embarrassment broadened until he expected her ears to move out of the way.

She was drunk. Completely foxed.

Wonderful.

A Different Kind of Game

He had settled comfortably in the chair. A contained man, unruffled and smooth. A handsome man, at ease with his body and presence, confident of his physical impression. A determined man whose clear eyes watched her with patience. He was prepared to wait her out.
Take your time,
his whole pose said.
We have all day, if you want to do it that way.

“I would like you to bring up that dress that you spoke of, Dante,” she said. “I will put it on and leave.”

“You are to rest, and I could not permit you to walk away on your own even if you were well.”

“I will go to the house and ask for help. It will be better this way.”

“No.” He folded his arms across his chest.

He watched her. Too much and too long. It became a compelling examination. She grew uncomfortable in a strangely exciting way, and embarrassingly aware of that frightening something that shimmered around him like a subtle force.

“I think that we will pass the time with a game,” he said.

“What kind of game?”

“You do not have to look so suspicious. Not that kind. Although having you in my bed, but in a condition that prevents me from trying to breach your defenses, is enough to make me weep.”

THE SINNER

A Bantam Book / January 2004

Published by

Bantam Dell

A Division of Random House, Inc.

New York, New York

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2004 by Madeline Hunter

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eISBN: 978-0-553-89833-0

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