A Dangerous Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

“I’ll ask the questions here, Mr. Brennan. You’re the one in the wrong, after all.” To emphasize the point, she thrust the sword out in front of her as easily as if it were a parasol.
    By God, the woman was strong—most women wouldn’t even be able to lift the thing. However gaudy its trappings, her lush body held surprising power.
    Resting a hip on the desk, he said, “Ask what questions you like. Though now that we’ve introduced ourselves, you might dispense with the weapon. Unless you’re afraid of a mere man of affairs.”
    “I’m afraid of no one.” She spoke the words without a hint of boasting, as if stating a plain fact. A second later she lowered the sword to stand it on end like a cane. Leaning on the hilt, she surveyed him from head to foot. “I thought you were a gypsy thief.”
    “No, merely an Irishman,” Griff quipped, remembering his role. “Though some would say that’s nearly as bad.”
    “I have nothing against Irishmen, Mr. Brennan. Except when they’re skulking about in the private areas of my home.”
    Casually, she bent to set down the shield. Without that obstruction, the candle on the hall table behind her sifted amber light through her flimsy garments to silhouette her body in astonishing detail. Animage of large, rounded breasts, generous hips, and a nicely curved waist seared itself into Griff’s suddenly distracted brain. Another not so distracted part of him responded instantly.
    That annoying appendage knew what it wanted; tonight it apparently wanted the warrior queen. He shifted uncomfortably on the desk. Obviously it had been far too long since he’d had a woman. Why else would this one attract him? He liked quiet, elegant ladies with good taste and prudent tongues, not brash Amazons with penchants for flaming silk.
    Yet when she straightened, it took a supreme effort to tear his gaze from her body and focus it on her face. Not that it helped. Her face interested him as much as the erotic shadow play of her body. Separately, each of her features seemed overdone, as if the Creator had gotten carried away with embellishments. Her chin was a bit protruding, her cheeks a little plump, her brows a shade darker and thicker than fashionable. Altogether, however, her face contained an arresting charm that reminded him of Titian’s beauties. Indeed, he owned a Titian nude whose face resembled hers to an amazing degree.
    Especially the lips. They were art come to life. He had a sudden insane urge to taste that erotic mouth, an urge he squelched ruthlessly by reminding himself of his purpose. A dalliance with the daughter of his enemy would certainly not serve it.
    “If you don’t mind my asking,” Griff said in a futile attempt to draw his thoughts from baser considerations, “what would you have done if I had been a gypsy thief?”
    She shrugged. “I would have held you here while I called for help.”
    He choked down a laugh. “Held me here?” At the sight of her raised eyebrow, however, he refrained from voicing his disparaging thoughts. This was hischance to elicit information, and he wouldn’t get it by insulting her. “I see. Your father’s desk must contain a great many treasures for you to show such concern over it.”
    Alarm flickered briefly in her face. “No! I mean, that’s not the point. I don’t want anyone stealing from Papa, even if it’s only notes to the steward.”
    How intriguing. Did the desk indeed contain the certificate? He hadn’t seen it there, but he hadn’t had long to search before the warrior queen barged into the room. He shoved away from the desk. “Nonetheless, you took great pains to protect the desk’s contents, so they must have value to someone.”
    “You seem inordinately interested in my father’s desk. May I suggest that you wait until Papa actually dies before you inventory your employer’s inheritance?”
    Damnation, he’d been careless and given her the wrong impression. “This has nothing to do with my