Wicked in Your Arms Read Online Free PDF

Kirkendale replied shrilly. “There’s nothing to see. Nothing untoward has occurred.” She jabbed a finger threateningly at Grier. “And if you dare spread word that—”
    â€œI assure you nothing will be said.” Grier nodded, still backing away.
    The prince chuckled, the sound low and deep. He shook his head almost as if he couldn’t believe he was in such a state of circumstances. Or perhaps it was Grier. He couldn’t believe that she was here. That someone like her should even be in the same room with him.
    â€œReally, Sevastian.” Lady Kirkendale patted her hair feverishly. “I don’t see what is so amusing about any of this.”
    Inwardly Grier echoed that sentiment, but she wasn’t inclined to linger to hear the prince’s response.
    â€œIf you’ll pardon me, I’ll leave you to . . .” she floundered, and the bloody man cocked that black slash of an eyebrow at her, his gold eyes gleaming wickedly. “Pardon me, I’ll leave you to that thing it is you’re not doing.”
    Lady Kirkendale puffed herself up and made a shrill, unattractive sound that rather resembled the squeal of a pig.
    Grier opened the door and hastily stepped out into the hall, eager to escape. Hand still on the latch, she froze. Advancing down the corridor toward her was none other than Lord Kirkendale. His expression was thunderous.
    He hadn’t seen her yet, too focused on slamming open doors and peering inside every room he passed.
    Grier dove back inside the room and shut the door as silently as possible. The pair had scarcely moved since she’d slipped from the room. Startled at her sudden return, they stared at her with blinking eyes. Grier flattened her palms to the door, her heart hammering a furious beat in her chest.
    â€œIt’s your husband,” she hissed. “He’s coming.”
    Lady Kirkendale slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her screech. Grier winced, watching in fascination as the woman started hopping in place like a child caught in the throes of a tantrum. Despite the dire situation, Grier fought a smile at the ridiculous spectacle.
    She lifted her hand. “Maksimi! Don’t just sit there! What shall we do?”
    The prince glanced around the well-appointed bedchamber, still maintaining his perpetual manner of ennui. For all the world, he looked icy cool and not at all perturbed that an irate husband was bearing down on them.
    His gaze stopped on a large mahogany armoire, and a thoughtful look came over his carved features.
    Rising from the chaise in one liquid-smooth motion, he grasped Grier’s arm. She started at the touch, heat sparking along her veins from the contact.
    â€œCome,” he commanded, his voice that infernal tone again—the voice of one accustomed to being obeyed.
    She dug in her heels, shaking her head fiercely. “Where are we going?”
    â€œTo place ourselves out of sight.”
    She sneered at his overly formal speech. “You mean hide?”
    A muscle flickered along the taut flesh of his jaw. “I never hide. I merely know when to retreat until it is time to reappear.”
    Grier rolled her eyes. “Call it whatever you like. Why do I need to . . . retreat ? I haven’t done any—”
    â€œYou think your reputation shall remain unscathed when you’re found here? When Kirkendale raises all hell and the entire household pours into this room, do you think you shall remain unsullied? The ton loves a sordid tale. Your presence here shall be made into a colorful account. You’ll be tossed into the fray, too.”
    Her stomach dipped, her face flashing hot and cold. She didn’t need another strike against her as she navigated the waters of the ton . She was here to achieve a modicum of status and respectability, not to earn further disdain.
    Seeing no alternative, she stopped resisting and let him drag her the rest of the