Tainted by Temptation Read Online Free PDF Page B

never wanted to give the impression that she condoned physical contact. “I’m sorry. Please don’t summon the Bigsbys.”
    “They’re just at their supper.” He touched his arm where she’d laid her hand. “They are not far.”
    Velvet searched for an explanation. “No servant likes a governess requiring special treatment. I should hate to get off on the wrong foot with them.”
    He paced away from her, and she feared he would call for the housekeeper anyway. He pivoted and stalked back. “Miss Campbell, you are ill.”
    “I’m not. I just need to eat.” Fascinated by the caged energy in his smooth stride, Velvet stared too long. She ducked her head, mentally berating herself.
    He crouched in front of her and looked at her with a furrowed brow.
    “I am keeping you from your dinner,” she protested.
    His head tilted. “Did the sturgeon put you off? I’m sure Mrs. Bigsby could coddle an egg for you.”
    “No, the fish is fine.” She pushed the chair back and stood. His eyes burned holes in her as she walked the interminable length of the dining room. She slid back into her seat, returned her napkin to her lap and deliberately ate a bite of the cold fish.
    The doors clicked shut.
    He took his time returning to his chair at the head of the table. His expression was contemplative as his dark eyes raked over her.
    Her heart pounded. The fish turned to chalk in her mouth. She swallowed hard.
    “You think eating will improve your health?”
    “I’m certain of it,” she answered.
    He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. Velvet tried to ignore his scrutiny as she cut her fish. Risking only a nibble, she waited for him to resume eating. Her chewing seemed overly loud.
    Her heart thumped unsteadily. His study of her made gooseflesh rise on her arms. Trying to sound nonchalant, she asked. “What additional nightly duties would you expect me to perform?”
    The question seemed fraught with innuendos, and she hadn’t meant it to be. Staring at her plate, she dreaded the answer.
    He uncrossed his arms, leaned one elbow on the armrest and planted his opposite hand on the other. His position lessened the distance between them. The air crackled with a charged energy.
    Fisting her napkin in her lap, she turned toward him waiting for his answer.
    He’d turned toward her, exposing the pink scars. His eyes narrowed slightly, he said, “I need a hostess when I entertain.”
    Velvet nearly sagged with relief.
    “Mostly my guests are business associates. I am expecting to conclude a major deal soon and will have several guests. I’ll need you to guide the service.” He reached for his wineglass and scowled at the ruby liquid. “Your last position was in the undersecretary of state’s household. Surely you could help the staff to serve the correct wine with a meal.” He raised his gaze to her face.
    Her relief dissolved at the mention of her last situation. “Certainly, I could manage that, but that would usually be the butler’s purview, wouldn’t it?”
    “Bigsby is loyal, but choosing wine is above his calling.” He twisted as if uncomfortable. “Good help is hard to get here.”
    She could easily take his words as an insult. Not that she could afford to be affronted. She needed this job.
    “Present company excepted.”
    He drank his wine and set the empty glass on the table. His eyes never left her face, and she was unable to break away from his scrutiny.
    Only she was a governess most people wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Not after the maelstrom of humiliation in which she’d been embroiled. She tensed waiting for his question about why her name had been dragged through the scandal sheets and finally through the mainstream papers. Cartoons depicting her in a diaphanous nightgown beckoning to a line of paunchy MPs and spotty boys sold like meat pies at a fair.
    “Do eat, Miss Campbell.” He picked up his silverware and cut his fish. “Are you feeling better?”
    She nodded. “Most