Breathless Read Online Free PDF Page B

a little too raw and cold for his liking.
    He remembered the taste of Lady Miranda’s skin when he’d kissed her hand. Oh, this was going to be quite delightful. He could indulge his taste for villainy and no one would know what he planned until it was too late.
    No shoddy abductions or protestations of love. He would propose their union as a business venture, though he certainly didn’t plan to start out that way. He suspected she wouldn’t be wooed, which was just as well. It would take time to fix his interest with her, and time was his enemy. As soon as the Rohans learned who he was they’d be on their guard, and he hated the thought of being forced to do anything clumsily.
    No, the advantage was definitely on his side, and when had he ever failed to take full use of such a boon? He would have her eating out of his hand well before her family even caught wind of it.
    She would probably view the thought of him as a lover with extreme distaste. Tant pis . She would learn to like, if not him, at least the things he could do to her. He was a most accomplished lover when he cared to be. And she just might be worth the effort.
    The rain was pounding down by the time he reached his house, but rushing made him clumsy, and he mounted his front steps leisurely, ignoring the drenching. Indeed, he was a man who relished storms over insipid blue skies. And they were in for tumultuous weather.

3
    O f course she wouldn’t think of accepting his invitation, Miranda told herself regretfully. Once she’d made certain her horses were returned and none the worse for her near disaster, she retired to her rooms and a hot bath to take the chill from her bones, during which she had ample time to review her strange encounter. An encounter that left her feeling oddly breathless.
    In truth most of what she knew about Lucien de Malheur was rumor, innuendo and conjecture. For one thing, despite the French name, his family was as Norman English as they came. The de Malheurs could trace their lineage back to the Domesday Book, and no one dared sneer at them, no matter how low the last few generations of that name had fallen. Fortunately the one thing that could exert Cousin Louisa was gossip and scandal, and Miranda had little doubt her companion could be counted on to provide every salacious on-dit imaginable.
    â€œAh, the de Malheurs!” the lady said with a gusty sigh. “Did I ever tell you I was quite enamored of the current earl’s uncle? It would never serve, of course,even with such an illustrious title. At that point they were desperately poor, most of their holdings were sold off to pay their gaming debts, and I was without a sufficient dowry. It was just as well. They were quite mad—the stories I heard were so disturbing I shan’t even share them with you, for I do not scruple to inform you, dear Miranda, that you really are appallingly innocent despite your own less than spotless past. Of course, I paid those stories about the de Malheurs no heed—after all, I was merely a girl and aux anges by the sight of a handsome face and a dark and dramatic history. And Lord, that family was a handsome one.” She said this last part with a sound that was disturbingly akin to smacking her lips. “Not the current bearer of the title, of course, though I doubt he’s quite the monster he’s painted to be.”
    â€œHaven’t you ever seen him?” Miranda asked.
    â€œLord, no, child! He never came to London. When the de Malheurs lost all their money they retreated to one of those islands in the new world, full of slaves and such like, and the current earl was raised there after his father died. He hasn’t been back in this country for long, and alas, my poor health has kept me a prisoner…. He rarely goes out, even now. It’s the most strange luck, that you should have happened to meet up with him today.”
    Miranda felt a faint trickling of uneasiness, but she