Your Wicked Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

crocodile tears. His cousins specialized in them.
    The silence lengthened. She was staring fixedly at the overhead, not even pretending to sleep.
    He almost turned down the light again. But it came to him that discouraging her conversation was not to the point. He needed information from her. Moreover, if, by some insane chance, his cousin was implicated in this mess, then he would also need to secure her discretion. Building a measure of goodwill between them was the quickest way to ensure her cooperation.
    “All right,” he said. “You wanted safety. Safety from whom?”
    She frowned. “From nobody in particular. From the world. It’s not so friendly a place. Sir.”
    Still refusing to address him by his title. This renewed evidence of defiance relieved him. He did not know how to deal with her when she seemed . . . fragile.
    “I thought you said you wished to see the world,” he said. “Wasn’t that your reason for accepting your employer’s offer?”
    “I did wish to see it. I still do.” She rolled over to face him, aglow now with earnestness, looking suddenly very young again, as sweet and simple and toothsome as a hot cross bun. “The Hagia Sophia—that was always on my list. It did not disappoint in the least .And Egypt—Mrs. Pennypacker had spoken of a trip to the Great Pyramids. I would have adored to see them. They look beyond beautiful—”
    “Dusty,” he said. “Very dusty.”
    “You’ve been ?” She stared at him as though he’d just announced himself the Second Coming. “Were they wondrous?”
    His cousins had complained endlessly of the heat, and his uncle had been drunk. But perhaps the pyramids would have been wondrous, had his companions been as enthused as she was.
    Good God. “They’re tombs,” he said sharply. “Do you find graveyards romantic? Don’t answer that,” he added in disgust, for it was clear, by the look on her face, that she did.
    “Oh, but I’m green with jealousy!” She flopped back down again. “If I were a man . . .” She hesitated, then sighed. “At any rate, one wishes for ever so many things. And perhaps I could strike out on my own . . . but I lack the courage.”
    “Or the poor judgment,” he said, for she was right: a pretty girl with skin like cream and eyes as round as moons would need to take care when indulging her touristic curiosities.
    It came to him with an unpleasant start that this conversation was absurd. They were not friends ;it was not his business to counsel her. “Not that I consider you an exemplar of good judgment,” he added.
    She glanced at him sidelong and said nothing.
    The reaction felt unsatisfying. He wanted her to admit her wrongs. “So you thought the impostor could keep you safe, and allow you to indulge your fancies. And in return, you would give him . . . what?” Reminding himself that he did not believe this tale, he put some skepticism into his voice. “What might you provide that a peer of the realm would require?” Let her confess her shortcomings. Or let her boast and hear his reply. She was pretty, but he’d seen prettier women in his time.
    But the question appeared to puzzle her. Frowning, she sat up. “My respect, I suppose. And my affection.” She met his eyes, her gaze startlingly direct. “My honesty and constancy. My unwavering support. I am a good woman, sir. A man would be lucky to take me to wife.”
    “And modest to boot,” he said. But he felt oddly unnerved. In an attempt to dispel the feeling, he added, “These are not rare qualities, of course.”
    But it was difficult to sound scathing when speaking a lie. With a family as flighty as his, he knew very well how rare such qualities might be. Honesty itself was worth its weight in gold, and respect and constancy were more precious yet.
    Clearly his mind was rotting for lack of sleep. She was a criminal. She knew exactly which lies to speak. Lies were her stock-in-trade.
    Yet she chose strange lies, for all that. He had