Devil's Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page B

out orders above the tempest of the sea. She had no doubt that each and every man aboard would scurry to carry out his commands.
    She suddenly had to clutch her fingers together to keep them from shaking. Her position was a miserable one. She was forced to play a humiliating role before a man who emanated power, a certain arrogance, and a very rugged determination. How she would love to keep her pride before such a man.
    His boots hit the floor with a thud.
    Her heart was pounding; her limbs seemed frozen. She felt a sudden terror that she would break if he touched her. He moved silently on his stockinged feet, and that silent movement of such a hard and well-muscled man unnerved her further.
You would sell your soul to the devil,
she reminded herself, and perhaps that was what she was doing. There was a heated gleam in his eyes that surely belonged to a devil, and a pulse ticked within a blue vein in his well-corded neck.
    No! she thought, this just couldn’t be happening. She had to try to stall, to keep praying for a miracle …
    She stepped back—eluding his arms.
    She saw a frown knit his brow tightly, and then the flame of anger creep into his eyes.
    “Lass! I warned you I was in no mood for games. I have to be back aboard ship soon, and I haven’t the time for whatever this is that you’re playing.”
    She thought quickly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she queried with a show of bravado.
    “Am I?”
    “Payment in advance, Lord Treveryan.” Would they haggle? Would it buy her more time?
    “Dammit! Certainly—but, so help me, wench, let’s get on with this!”
    With his words he tossed a handful of gold coins upon the bed. A flaming blush of humiliation crept into Brianna’s cheeks and she raised her eyes to meet his; but he was no longer watching her. He had turned with disgust, and now it was he who stalked to the window to stare out to the street below.
    Brianna stared at the coins, ready to burst into tears, wishing she could slap herself into some sense. He did not want to hurt her; he just wanted her. She was trying desperately to save her life—but allowing panic to bring her closer and closer to the stake.
    “Dammit, girl!” he thundered, and she realized he was watching her again, his eyes flashing annoyance. “I ask you again, is this bargain not to your liking? If that is so, go! I will have no unwilling woman, lady or whore.”
    She must have flinched visibly, because his voice softened. “If you need the money, girl, take it. But if you wish to leave me, do so now, for I have been at sea a long time, and there are things I would forget for a while in the arms of someone soft and sweet-smelling. It matters not to me who this woman should be, as long as she is clean and shapely and can ease the needs of a man.”
    Brianna began to speak but couldn’t continue. He was being kind, she realized bitterly, offering her pay for services not performed. For some absurd reason it hurt her that he didn’t care if he had her or another.
    “Make up your mind now,” he told her. “You were so anxious before—have you lost interest now? If so, I want you out of this room.”
    “No!” Brianna protested quickly. Blindly, she picked up the coins. Bitterly aware that she might need them to reach England and the Powells, she slipped them into the pocket of her shift.
    With awkward, trembling fingers, she reached to unfasten the hooks at the rear of her shift.
    It was then that there came a tapping at the door and Brianna’s fingers froze once more.
    “My lord?”
    It was a woman’s voice. Soft, questioning, and it was followed by a husky giggle.
    The whore—the whore he had been expecting! Brianna thought swiftly. In desperation she flashed him a quick smile as she hurried to the door.
    She threw it open and stepped into the hall, closing the bedroom door behind her and forcing the golden-haired woman with the painted face away from it.
    “Who are you?” she demanded haughtily of