Sweet as the Devil Read Online Free PDF

conversation.”
    “In that case, Dex is still in the running,” Fitz roguishly offered. “He was hoping for an introduction.”
    Sofia’s eyes widened. “Dexter Champion?” The earl was a champion not only in name but in sport as well: his prowess on the polo field had won England the world title three years running.
    Fitz winked. “He’s been pining from afar.” “Apparently not for long. Didn’t he just leave his wife?”
    “It was a bad marriage from the start,” Fitz dismissively noted. “His mother had a hand in it.”
    “And he wasn’t capable of saying no?”
    “He did for some time, and then Helene claimed she was pregnant and he stopped protesting.”
    “She wasn’t?”
    “No, just devious.”
    “They don’t have children, do they?”
    “Not his at least. Rumor has it her recent holiday in Italy resulted in the child she brought home and has since referred to as her niece. So, would you like to come to dinner and make his acquaintance?” Fitz glanced at Rosalind. “If that’s all right with you, dear?”
    “It’s up to Sofia. Dex is a lovely man, though.” Rosalind turned to her friend. “You should think about meeting him.”
    Sofia hesitated briefly before saying, “Maybe I will. I’m not likely to be painting Jamie Blackwood in this lifetime.”
    Oz chuckled. “I haven’t heard that euphemism used before. Painting, you say.”
    She sent him a lowering look. “Very amusing.” “You could paint Dex.” Oz grinned. “As runner-up.”
    “Not likely. Lord Wharton may be handsome, but he has none of the captivating intangibles of Blackwood.”
    “You could paint Jamie from memory,” Rosalind suggested.
    Sofia’s eyelids lowered slightly. “Now why would I want to do that?”

CHAPTER 4

    W HILE THE TWO couples and Sofia were discussing Jamie Blackwood, several blocks away, Countess Minton and the subject of that conversation were engaged in a hot, sweaty, vigorous farewell. Bella was demanding in bed, and considering this tryst would be his last for a fortnight, Jamie was willing to oblige her.
    He planned on spending a celibate holiday at his hunting lodge. His preference for solitude was well-known by his troopers and the small staff who managed his estate. Scotland had always been his sanctuary—from excess on occasion, more so in the past than now, although, no question, Bella was definitely putting him through his paces. In recent years, Blackwood Glen also served as a hermitage from the corruption of the world and more particularly from Ernst’s Machiavellian political machinations that might kill them both in the end.
    Revolutionary fervor was spreading like wildfire in the Habsburg Empire, the price of power traded openly. And Ernst was deep in the game. Magyars, Serbs, Croats, Slovaks, Czechs, Bohemians, Poles, Ruthenes, Germans—each with unique national interests and diverse loyalties—were maneuvering for advantage. Some were lunatics, all were dangerous, and while Prince Ernst thought he was skilled in this dirty business, his ideas of suave diplomacy weren’t always masterful.
    When Franz Joseph had been invited to ascend the throne forty-six years ago by a consortium of powerful magnates who’d deposed his uncle, the eighteen-year-old archduke had recognized how precarious his crown was. Mindful of the naked tyranny that had brought him to the throne, he viewed with suspicion any assault, however minor, on his prerogatives. He nurtured the goodwill of the military as a bulwark against sedition, surrounded himself with sycophants and biddable bureaucrats, and promoted the fiction that he ruled by the grace of God. The truth was rather less romantic than the ideal of a God-given authority. It was the ubiquitous presence of his secret police that kept his nobles in line and preserved him from the mob.
    “Stop, stop, stop ! You can’t do that!”
    Recalled to reality by the sharp cry, Jamie instantly curtailed the forceful thrust of his hips, automatically