Too Sinful to Deny Read Online Free PDF Page B

scream.”
    “Why bother?” She relaxed her death grip. Slightly. “It never helps.”
    “Very true,” he agreed. But why did Ms. Jasmine know it? When had screaming not helped a Society miss like her? This time, he gazed into her blue eyes looking for answers.
    She wiggled in his arms. “You can put me down.”
    “I could,” he agreed, irritated to realize he was still holding her. He was definitely going to put her down. Any second now. “But you’ve just gotten interesting.”
    “Oh, now I’m interesting? Arriving in the dead of night, secretly following you, sliding down a cliff on my sure-to-be-bruised derrière—all that is perfectly normal in your world? What the hell did I do in the past thirty seconds that’s so bloody interesting?”
    A mouth like that and the face of an angel. Evan held her a little closer. “This keeps getting better.”
    “Worse, you mean.” She thrashed to break free from his hold. “Let me go.”
    His arms gripped her tighter. Woman had a death wish. “Flail around like that and you’ll fall on your bruised arse again,” he informed her. “You don’t want that.”
    “You don’t know what I want,” she returned hotly, her entire body trembling.
    He arched his brows and let his gaze travel down to her mouth. His body tightened. He should walk away. He should run away. He should at least stop staring at her lips. “I always know what women want.”
    She started thrashing again.
    He let her fall.
    “Ow!” She stared up at him, mouth agape.
    “See?” He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to pick her back up. “I knew you wanted down.”
    “You—you— cretin. ”
    “And worse.”
    He turned and headed down the beach. He needed to get his mind off the softness of her body and back on the deadness of his brother’s. The unbidden reminder caused a hitch in Evan’s step. Fingers clenched, he strode faster. Despite their differences, his brother had always been his best friend. Evan would find whoever did this. And exact revenge.
    “Wait. Wait! Where are you going?” The faint sound of footfalls on sand. “Can I come with you?”
    No. Lord no. Not now, not ever. Why was she following him? He did not need this type of distraction, even on the blandest of days. No ties, no expectations, no questions.
    She tugged at his sleeve. Unbelievable. All those warnings, and she still jogged at his side. What had he told Ollie just last night? Wenches were simple. Wenches were perfect. London ladies were an absolute mess.
    Evan stopped. “Woman—”
    “Stanton.” She gave him a suspiciously sunny smile. “Miss Susan Stanton. So pleased to meet you. Oh, and thanks for saving me. Even if you were surly about it.”
    “It’s my nature.” He raked a long glance up and down her frame. Unfortunately, she hadn’t gotten ugly in the past few minutes. If anything, the run gave her cheeks a healthy glow and the exertion made her breathing sound like she’d just been—No. He refused to let that image in his mind. For long. “Where are you from, Miss Stanton?”
    “Mayfair. That is to say, London.” She eyed him doubtfully. “Er . . . if you didn’t know.”
    He chose not to respond to that comment. The only way to get rid of her would be to scare her off, once and for all. Because if she continued throwing herself in his arms . . . Well, what was a part-time smuggler to do? He couldn’t be held responsible for the aftermath.
    He let his gaze travel down her figure once more. Not quickly, surreptitiously, as he’d done before. Slowly. Enjoying the view. So she’d see him looking—and realize the danger she was in.
    “In this ‘Mayfair,’” he asked softly, “do unmarried young ladies trot off alone with respectable young gentlemen, much less conscienceless blackguards?”
    Color leeched from her once-pink cheeks. Ah. His words made her as uncomfortable as his gaze. He smiled.
    “N-not generally, no.” She glanced behind them at the empty