Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

“Ah, if only such a creature truly existed,” he drawled, his hand firmly propelling her away from the crowd. “This way, my love.”

With no choice but to follow his lead or put up a ridiculous struggle, Brianna waited until they were standing near the refreshment table, which offered a selection of lobster patties, potted pigeon, stuffed mushrooms and various custards, before turning.

“What is it you want?”

“To throttle you, for a start,” he growled.

“Go right ahead.” Her chin tilted. “I doubt anyone would be willing to dare the wrath of the Duke of Huntley to halt you.”

For a moment, Brianna feared he might actually wrap his hands around her throat. His anger was a palpable heat that crawled over her skin, making it prickle with unmistakable warning.

In the end, his fierce restraint overcame his temper, and muttering a foul curse, he contented himself with a warning glare.

“I do not have time for this nonsense. We must leave immediately.”

“Leave? Why?”

“I have information that the villain who shot you has been discovered.”

Brianna accepted the news with a shrug. The small wound on her forehead had induced a great deal of sympathetic interest when she arrived tonight, but she was remarkably indifferent to the knowledge she had very nearly died on that foggy balcony.

Perhaps not so surprising. She had swooned so swiftly that she had little memory of the actual chaos after being shot. And those few memories had been easily burned away by Edmond’s intense lovemaking.

And of course, the agonizing sight of Edmond’s carriage waiting in front of La Russa’s town house.

That was far more painful than any mere bullet.

“So you have not entirely forgotten the reason you are in London?”

“What?” His teeth snapped together as he savagely contained his anger. “Never mind. Very soon, Brianna Quinn, we are going to discuss my dislike for sulky women.”

“As if I give a bloody damn.”

“You will.” Taking her arm in a grip that was a breath away from painful, he began towing her toward the nearby door. “Now, sheathe that lethal tongue and smile while we make our apologies to our hostess for leaving so early.”

“There is no need to drag me, for God’s sakes,” she muttered.

He cast a warning frown. “Just be glad that Aunt Letty convinced me not to toss you over my shoulder and haul you away.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE NOTE THAT EDMOND HAD received from Chesterfield had been brief. Just a scribbled warning that his employee had spotted the carriage used by the villain who had shot Brianna and tracked him to the stables on Piccadilly.

It was enough, however, to make Edmond take the precaution of gathering Boris and three other guards before mounting his horse and heading out of Mayfair. He was not taking any chances of having the mysterious attacker slip through his grasp again.

The sooner he managed to put an end to the threat to his brother, the better.

Perhaps then he could return to St. Petersburg and to the lavish, exotic existence he had always enjoyed. It was far preferable to meddle in others’ lives than to have his own bedeviled.

He ignored the sharp clench of his heart as he slowed his mount and regarded the shadowed stables that were conveniently situated near the hotels located on Piccadilly. He hoped the assailant would put up a fight. He was in a perfect mood to beat the villain within an inch of his life.

“Those are the stables just ahead,” he said, his gaze scanning the gas-lit street.

Boris moved to his side, his expression hard with anticipation. He was eager for violence, as well.

“Where are you to meet Chesterfield?”

“At the back entrance.”