A Persistant Attraction Read Online Free PDF Page B

arose. Her plan was dangerous, but she’d faced danger before. She’d only been sixteen when she ran away from home to avoid the repugnant marriage her father had arranged for her. She’d survived that. She would survive this too.

    *

    Rhys squeezed his eyes shut against the bright sunlight assaulting his head, but the pain of even that slight movement made his stomach roil. He took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up, keeping his eyes closed and shielded with his hand.
    His back muscles had seized up like solid rock from sleeping at his desk, and his neck felt like someone had been rotating his head around in circles. But his muscular discomforts were nothing compared to the pounding in his head. Once he was upright, he had to remain perfectly still lest he vomit onto his plush carpet.
    As he sat there trying to simply breathe, he got the nagging feeling something important had happened which he didn’t remember. But his hangover obscured any possibility of thinking.

    Before he could get himself steady enough make his way to his room where he could continue to sleep on a blissfully soft mattress, Meadows entered. “Mr. Stanton, do you require some assistance?”
    “No,” he snapped. He regretted speaking as his stomach made a violent pitch.
    “Lord Farrington is here to see you, sir.”
    “Farrington? What the hell does he want?”
    Meadows gave a look of disgust. His valet must hate Farrington almost as much as he did. “He did not inform me of the purpose of his visit.”
    “No, he wouldn’t have. Tell him to return tomorrow. I…” He paused while he fought off a particularly menacing wave of nausea. “I cannot see anyone today.”
    “He said it was most urgent, sir. I’ve already tried to send him away. He says he will wait however long he must.”
    “Blast him to hell! Tell him I will be with him in half an hour, and don’t feel compelled to offer the bastard any refreshment.”
    “Yes, sir.” Meadows turned to leave.
    “Meadows.”
    “Yes, sir?”
    “Did something happen last night that I should remember?” He hated having to ask, but he’d learned years ago to trust his instincts.
    “Miss Halverston called on you. She was unchaperoned and curiously dressed. You spoke with her, then she left rather abruptly.” Slowly the evening came back to him. The memory did nothing for his headache or his stomach. “Thank you. Please bring one of those magic powders of yours to my room.”
    “Yes, sir. Right away.” Meadows gave him a look that bordered on disapproving.
    As Rhys ascended the stairs at a snail’s pace, the details of the evening came to him in flashes. Amanda in those delectable breeches, her thighs plainly defined. Her running for the door and him restraining her from leaving. The warm skin of her arm heating his

    hand where he held her. His ludicrous ultimatum. What had he been about? Mark would murder him if Amanda ever revealed what he’d said.
    The only thing he could do was call on Amanda, apologize, and offer his assistance free of charge. And he had to get to her fast. He could only imagine what sort of ridiculous scheme she was planning to catch her attacker on her own.
    But first he had to get rid of Farrington. What was the bastard doing here? The last time they’d met, Rhys had made it perfectly clear that he was done with Farrington and his organization.
    After taking the powder Meadows brought him, he splashed ice cold water on his face, dressed, and took a look at himself in the mirror. He looked slightly green and more than a bit like he’d been run over by a coach and four.
    When Rhys found him, Lord Farrington was making himself at home in the library.
    He’d leaned back in one of the cherry armchairs with the black leather upholstery Rhys’s sister had cooed over while decorating the house. He almost laughed when he thought of her insistence that he live in style. Though he had to admit, she’d chosen furniture to suit his taste.
    Farrington absently