The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress (The Lairds Most Likely 7)

That cursed alluring smile curled his lips again. "Did you ever play that reprobate Roderick Martin false, despite his infidelities?"

Heat rose in her cheeks, as if she was about to confess some misdeed. When it was just the opposite. "No, of course not."

"You’ll be just as faithful to old moneybags."

"You make that sound like a bad thing," she protested.

"When a beautiful, spirited creature like you submits to a clod like Cecil Canley-Smythe, it is a bad thing."

Selina stared appalled at Bruard. "You haven’t been watching me as closely as I thought. Nobody in their right mind would describe me as spirited. The ladies at this house party call me the dullest woman in England. I’ve heard them say it."

To her surprise, he looked angry. "Toplofty little bitches."

She should object to his language, but she’d suffered too many snubs from the nasty cats to waste time defending them. "I am the most boring woman in England. I stay where I’m put and I do what I’m told."

Bitterness edged her tone, because it had always struck her as the waste of a life. The only worthwhile thing she’d ever done was give birth to Gerald.

He looked thoughtful. "You don’t have to follow the rules all the time."

She slid along the settle to lengthen the distance between them. "I’m not throwing over my engagement for the sake of your smile, Lord Bruard, however charming it might be."

He surveyed her as if he could read every inch of her soul. Selina had an uncanny feeling that, despite her taunts, he had come to understand her over the last week. Then she reminded herself that he was a rake, and he knew just what to say to a woman to win her over.

"I could show you joy," he said in a soft voice that played more of that devil’s music up and down her backbone.

"I’m sure you could," she said flatly. "But I won’t let you seduce me in Lord Derwent’s library, where anyone could come in and discover us."

"It would put paid to your reputation for dullness, at least."

Despite everything, she laughed. "You’re incorrigible."

"I am." He paused, and his expression grew so intense that fear made her breath accelerate. "Anyway, my ambitions reach further than that. I want more of you than one hurried tumble in another man’s house, before the servants come in to snuff the candles."

"You must know that’s impossible. I’ve told you what’s at stake." Selina paused, feeling let down. Which was stupid. The world knew Brock Drummond, the Earl of Bruard, was a wicked man. She couldn’t complain when he lived up to his reputation. "You seemed to understand my dilemma. Or was all that compassion just a libertine’s trick, so I’d let you have your way with me?"

Surprise lit his dark eyes. And something that looked like appreciation. "You don’t mince your words, do you?"

Suddenly weary, she stared into the

fire. "What’s the point?"

"None that I can see, but most ladies wouldn’t agree." She wasn’t looking at him, but she could hear that he was smiling. "How on earth does anyone think you’re dull?"

"I mind my tongue most of the time. I should have minded my tongue tonight."

"That would have been a pity."

She stood and smoothed her skirts. This had gone far enough. Since they’d started talking, danger had flickered in the air. Now it flapped around her with huge, black wings.

"I should go to bed. Alone." In case Bruard imagined that was an invitation. "It’s been an entertaining encounter, my lord."

He rose to face her, his expression intent. "To Hades with that. Do you dare to dismiss me like an importunate creditor, madam? I’ll be damned if you will."

Startled, she stared at him. She faltered back. "I told you I can’t…"

He sounded annoyed. "No, you can’t tonight. But for the next two weeks, Cecil is safe in the north and you’re within reach in the south, and I find myself at your disposal."

"To do what?"