Beguiling Bridget Read Online Free PDF

appears — what an unlikely surprise.”
    “You were speaking of me?” His beguiling smile stretched wider across his marble features.
    “Hmm… if I recall correctly, we spoke of sin, and yes, I believe the devil was mentioned.” His smile waned to its usual irritating level. The golden corona of his brilliant green eyes seemed to catch the candlelight and sparkle at her. No. Bridget wouldn’t let him convince her. She was no trophy to be won. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? Think about your mother crying! Think about your parents’ marriage crumbling and your mother dying of a broken heart. Think of those things!
    As if on cue, Sir Wilde interjected with genuine pleasure, “Lady Gemma! It has been an age!” He brushed past the viscount to address the lady’s hand. “Tell me, where have you been keeping yourself?”
    Gemma seemed to blush to the very roots of her dark red hair. He tucked her hand under his arm and led her to the refreshment table, chattering all the while.
    Bridget shook her head slightly as the pair disappeared around the corner without so much as batting an eyelash in farewell. Behind them, Gemma’s traitor of a brother followed close, as if he didn’t trust Sir Wilde a stone’s throw away with his sister.
    This left Bridget quite alone in the salon. Quite alone with Lord Maddox.
    The man took a seat beside where Bridget stood and gestured to her to do the same. As she lowered herself into the chair, he leaned in ever so close and turned that sinful smile on her. Suddenly overheated and beyond irritation, she began to fan herself, trying desperately to appear nonchalant when the temptation to lean forward and smell him was overwhelming.
    “You asked for a word, my lord. How may I be of help to you this evening? Perhaps a lesson or two on how to walk about the public streets without being trampled by passing carriages? Or possible strategies to avoid dangerous fruit attacks?” Bridget offered him what she hoped was her most innocent expression. “Truly, I aim only to please.”
    “It seems I've found my match. I do so love a challenge.”
    “I'm not participating in said challenge, nor am I like every other girl who would think nothing of selling her own grandmother in order to receive one of your smiles.”
    “Truly? You wouldn't even sell a dress? An irritating sibling?”
    “Not a sibling, and certainly not my soul.”
    “Truly, you have a rapier sharp wit, my lady. Pray tell, how do you do it?”
    “I read, my lord,” she replied. “I daresay none of the women of your prior acquaintance can boast such.”
    “Indeed,” he said, eyeing her with a hint of doubt in his own charms. That ought to finish him. A couple of well placed poisoned darts in his more than adequate ego and he would be but a memory of this tedious night. Dare she drive the nail home?
    “Perhaps the talent eludes even you, my lord.”
    A shallow, sickly smile spread over his lips. Yes, she was getting to him.
    “You may think of me as you please, my lady.” His gaze drifted past her searching for his comrade who had disappeared as though seeking a swift escape. Good. The desired effect. No reason to postpone the inevitable. Men leave. The arrogant ones leave sooner. It was a simple matter of time. At least it was for her father.
    “You presume much, my lord. For when this conversation is at an end, I will not think of you at all.” His golden-crested emerald eyes flashed the briefest betrayal of his pain. Bridget knew she had said too much, and an icy twinge of guilt spread from the pit of her stomach to her extremities. Her ears burned, and she knew without doubt they were a fiery beacon of her regret. For a moment, Bridget was glad of her scarlet tresses, since they would do much to camouflage her vibrant ears.
    She tore her gaze from his face, glanced toward the nearby doors, and waited for him to excuse himself.
    “If that is the case,” he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his deep, rich