A Most Delicate Pursuit Read Online Free PDF

he’d deserted her to join in the fray.
    “Hello, Michael.” Constance smiled. Her expression of displeasure changed upon seeing him. He’d seen that look before on his former lover. Though he’d once found her irresistible, these days she reminded him of a spider hiding in the shadows, ready to spring at any moment. “I’ve missed you so much.” She beamed at him.
    Never more in his life had Michael felt like a fly, caught in her dangerous, sticky web.
    Married to a man nearly twenty years her senior who’d had no interest in her save for that of her family’s connection, she was now left a widow. A dangerous, wealthy, and influential widow, in fact.
    Michael thought it odd that she chose to visit him, certain she’d had plenty of other suitors among the ton, most of whom were far better off financially than he. But she’d made her intentions known and he was going to have to settle things between them, the sooner the better.
    The truth was, his fascination with her had never been one of love. He knew that now. It had been one of convenience, one of two people needing comfort in the arms of each other. He readily admitted that spending a weekend with her, or even a week or more on occasion, had always been pleasant. Fun, even. But more and more he found himself counting the hours until their time together ended. Their final tryst, three months earlier, had ended badly.
    He should have made it clear that he wouldn’t visit her anymore. Michael knew the final cut was the deepest. He couldn’t bear the thought of wounding her even more.
    “My sweet,” he said, taking her hand and placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “How are you? I’m so sorry to hear of old George’s passing.”
    “I’m well enough, thank you. It wasn’t really a surprise. He’d been ailing for quite some time.”
    Dabbing her eyes, Constance clearly was looking for sympathy, but he saw no tears in their depths. As she leaned forward, her breasts pushed up and were nearly springing out of the gown’s bodice. Worse than that, he could see her hardened nipples through the sheer fabric. The gauzy material clung to her like a second skin. He imagined that the tiny hooks holding the gown together at her back were near to bursting.
    Though her choice in wardrobe had never bothered him before, he found himself becoming more uncomfortable by the minute.
    “Still, I’m sorry for your loss,” he said when he found his voice again.
    She waved her hand. “Let’s have honesty between us. You know I hated the man. He was a boorish mule, and exiting this mortal coil was the best gift he’s ever given me.”
    Another man might have thought ill of her, speaking her mind like that, but Michael understood too well what it was like to be trapped in a marriage with someone you didn’t love. The terrible day-to-day living side by side, two souls forced into the small space of an unwanted marriage. All for the sake of powerful alliances, of providing an heir, of increasing one’s wealth.
    Yes, he’d done as his father had insisted. He’d taken Lenore as his bride and imprisoned her in his life, in his home. He’d married her but hadn’t loved her. And, when she’d strayed, cuckolded him with her lover, he’d played the wounded one.
    But he knew who’d been truly to blame. It hadn’t been his intention to make such a mess of it. In fact, he was yet again being a good son, a good soldier. After Michael had caught her in bed with the cur, he threatened to cast her out. It didn’t matter. Once the gossip had started, there was no stopping the scandal. Lenore had been exposed.
    But it may as well have been him that ended her life that night, for fate had placed his hand at her back as surely as if he’d driven her carriage from that bridge and into the icy waters below.
    One thing was certain: he’d had his share of regrets, and he wasn’t about to add to their number.
    “I’m not the one for you, Connie. I never have been. At best, I was