Devil's Daughter (Devil 2)

Adam said very calmly, “No, Gervaise. She is mine and no one else will take her, including you. I intend to take her to my lodgings. If she swells with child it will be mine.”

“I will take her downstairs,” Gervaise continued, as if Adam had not spoken. “I want her shamed, with all of you watching.”

“If you touch her, I will kill you.”

The words were so softly spoken that Rayna barely heard them.

The comte stiffened. “Kill me, mon ami? Surely no woman is worth haggling over.”

“She was your surprise for me, Gervaise. I will keep my gift. Now, get out, and take our panting friends with you.”

“See here, Pietro,” Celestino began, his face flushing.

“I have no wish to draw your blood, mon ami,” the comte said. “We will play cards for her.”

Adam saw a glint of confidence in the comte’s eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief that he had allowed the comte to win the several times they had played. “As you will. I have no desire to be uncivil about this.”

Gervaise turned to Rayna. “You, little dove, will watch. Do dress, marchese.”

“I will bring her downstairs with me,” Adam said. He turned his back on the comte and began to pull on his trousers.

He heard a dry laugh, and the retreat of booted feet. He walked over and quietly closed the door, listening until he was certain the comte had quit the hall.

“Rayna,” he said, turning back to her. “Did you understand?”

“Yes,” she said.

She sounded calm. She was holding herself together. He admired her greatly in that moment.

Adam smiled at her. “I will be proud to have you as my wife.”

“I have not agreed to marry you, marchese,” she said.

“Even after I have shed my blood for you?”

Rayna raised her eyes to his face. “I ask, marchese, that you win the card game.” Her gaze fell to his dagger.

“No, Rayna, you will not do what you are thinking. I love you, no matter what happens. I want a living wife, not a dead virgin.”

He sat on the bed to pull on his boots, then rose again to fasten his waistcoat. He carefully wiped the dagger on the bedcover and placed it back in his belt. “Come, petite.”

She placed her hand in his and walked beside him from the room.

“When we get back downstairs, I want you to be disdainful. Do not show fear. From what I know of these men, it would only excite them the more. And you must show hatred for me.”

“I will try. When we leave here, Pietro, I will bathe the wound on your leg. I do not want you to become ill.”

“I begin to believe that you are not your father’s daughter.”

They look like carrion, Rayna thought, staring around at the roomful of men. The comte sat at a table shuffling a deck of cards, a glass of brandy at his elbow, looking relaxed and utterly confident. Rayna pulled away from Adam, her eyes dark with rage.

“Ugo,” Gervaise said, “you have daughters. See that our little bird stays close. I am certain you will know how to punish her if she tries to flee her cage.”

“You are scum, comte,” Rayna said, “and the rest of your animals as well.”

“Ah, I will enjoy teaching you manners,” the comte said.

“I think not, Gervaise,” Adam said easily, sitting down in a chair opposite him. “I have begun her lessons and I will complete them.”