Cheryl Holt Read Online Free PDF Page B

No one could fortuitously stumble upon them in a compromising situation.
    Wary and determined, he confronted her, once again. “Who are you?”
    “I don’t wish to say, and if we should ever have the misfortune to meet a second time, I insist that you pretend you don’t know who I am.”
    “Not bloody likely.”
    He stomped over to her, and she straightened, distressedyet striving to appear brave. Angrily, he stared her down until it gradually dawned on him that a strange energy was sparking between them, their bodies extending out to one another, and he grimaced with dismay. He didn’t want to be attracted to her!
    As a man vastly experienced with women, he readily recognized that they shared an acute physical affinity. Whether she emitted a covert signal or radiated a particular chemistry, he couldn’t explain the phenomenon, but she aroused him as no other could, and he hastily squelched the bizarre erotic realization. At present, he had bigger problems to mull than an asinine, unwarranted amorous bond.
    “Do you have any idea”—his hushed tone was scathing—“what would have happened if we’d been discovered just now?”
    The question startled her. Evidently, she’d been so overwhelmed that she hadn’t had the opportunity to reflect upon the momentous consequences. “What do you mean? Are you suggesting that someone aimed to catch us?”
    “Your name, madam. If you please.” Mutinously, she returned his glare but didn’t reply. “Fine. Then tell me this: Who is a blond woman in attendance? She’s about your age, petite but shapely, with big blue eyes.”
And fabulous breasts
, he nearly appended, but he wouldn’t describe her by such a crass method.
    After a lengthy hesitation while she weighed all the angles, she retorted, “Probably my cousin. Why?”
    So . . . she had a family member on the premises who proposed personal mischief. Interesting and terrifying! He was an expert at ferreting out suspicious facts and histories; he did it systematically at the club where he frequently unearthed the sordid details of their customers’ lives. There were many ways to untangle this debacle.
    “No reason,” he responded enigmatically, which caused her to bristle.
    “Why did you inquire?” she decreed authoritatively asthough she spent her days expounding proclamations that were instantly obeyed.
    “I shan’t confess, milady.” Menacingly, he towered over her. He was purposely trying to intimidate with his size, but it wasn’t working. “And might I recommend that you refrain from ordering me about? I’m not one of the lowly minions in your orbit who will leap to do your bidding.”
    “What is your name?”
    “Michael Stevens.”
    He braced for the predictable sign of recognition . . . but none followed. Because of his gaming establishment, and the notoriety of his parentage, he was so infamous in her circles that he was inevitably identified and gossiped about wherever he went. The fact that she was clueless as to his renown was definitely a puzzle.
    His mother was the celebrated actress Angela Ford, and his ass of a father, the wealthy and illustrious Earl of Spencer, Edward Stevens. Michael and his brother had to be the two most conspicuous bastard sons ever conceived. How could she not know? Had she been raised in a cave?
    “Why are you here at Lady Carrington’s party?” he snapped.
    “I’m on holiday.” Churlishly, she added, “Not that my schedule is any of your concern.”
    “Madam, I just mistakenly had my mouth on your breast, and my hand up your twat. I’d say that makes everything about you my business.”
    “How utterly crude of you to mention what transpired!”
    Irritated, and tired of whatever plot someone was hatching, he harshly retorted, “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
    “Are you implying that I instigated this fiasco? You despicable cad!” Steam was literally shooting out of her ears as she jabbed a finger in the center of his chest. “I didn’t! I told