Elusive Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

she saw the men Piotr had allowed to enter the room. She was already acquainted with the Earl of Carnover, but it was his companion who captured her attention. Her heart raced at the sight of him, not just from fear but from stark awareness. Miles Christian was the kind of man a woman had no choice but to notice. What if he recognized her?
    No, she told herself, trying to quell the nausea rolling through her stomach. She had kept herself disguised and it had been very dark. Even after he pulledoff her hood she had kept to the shadows, and only seconds had passed before she hit him. There was no way he could recognize her. Still, she found herself holding her breath and only half listening to the conversation around her as he approached. Blood pounded in her ears with his every step until she was fairly certain she would suffer an apoplectic fit before he even reached her.
    Instinctively, she cradled the arm he had smashed onto the table against her waist. It was still tender and bruised.
    In the few days that had passed since her dreadful abduction of the marquess—why couldn’t he have been a shopkeeper, or a baronet? Someone with a little less importance! —she had investigated his claim to have been out of town when Bella was killed. A few gentlemen had remarked on his absence from the clubs, but no one could say for certain where he had disappeared to.
    His grief at the news hadn’t been feigned, and as much as she despised herself for it, Varya wanted to believe him incapable of such a crime—and not because of her own bizarre attraction to him, but because Bella had loved him.
    His innocence was unlikely, but not impossible.
    But if he didn’t kill Bella, who did? And how was she ever going to prove it?
    Lady Milton complimented her on her gown; she smiled and nodded. Lord James asked if he might take her for a ride in Hyde Park the following afternoon; she smiled and shook her head. Somehow, she managed to maintain her composure even though theGrim Reaper was surely approaching, lifting his gleaming scythe…
    Suddenly, she was staring at a very stiff, impeccably tied cravat. She forced her gaze up even though her lungs threatened to collapse at the sight of the breathtaking face above her.
    Blessed Mary, but he was a beautiful man! Never before had she seen a face so harsh and yet so handsome. His catlike eyes were large for a man’s and set beneath arched brows. Even his eyelashes were darker and thicker than any man had the right to claim. His nose was long and straight—perfectly patrician—and his mouth was wide and full, followed by a jaw that wasn’t quite square, but was still very strong. It was a face that should have been arrogant in its beauty, but smiled warmly at her instead.
    Oh Bella, I think I must envy you.
    Lord James introduced them. The Marquess of Wynter bowed.
    “Miss Varya,” he began in his smooth, deep voice, “I am honored to make your acquaintance.” He took her offered hand and raised it to his lips.
    She forced herself to speak, despite the fact that her heart was hammering in her throat. Whether it was from fear of being found out or from his touch, she had no idea. The feel of his lips through the thin silk of her gloves was shamefully erotic. Odd how he was now so gentle when just nights before he had smashed that same arm onto a rickety table.
    “Thank you, my lord. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you.”
    Something flickered briefly in his unusual eyes. Shewatched in horror as he frowned slightly, but then it was gone and the good humor was back in his countenance. Varya had to bite her lip to keep from sighing in relief. She could feel tiny beads of perspiration forming along her hairline.
    “Lord Wynter’s been honored to meet many ladies in this room, haven’t you, Miles?” Lord James announced jocularly, elbowing the marquess in the side.
    Lord Wynter winced as if the jab hurt more than it should have. Varya wondered if he also carried wounds from their struggle,