Baron of Blasphemy (Lords of Scandal 12)

Shame. Even he could understand that. One’s sibling leaving a bundle of problems at one’s door. “I’m your best option, Princess.”

Her shoulders slumped and her chin melted down toward her chest.

He watched her eyes close and stay that way as she hugged herself. A niggle of sympathy slid down his back. “So that’s it then? I’m to be the Baroness of Blasphemy? Does that mean I can commence cursing?”

“No,” both men said at the same time.

Chad frowned, his brows drawing together. The title Baroness of Blasphemy irritated him, for a reason he couldn’t seem to name. It was too crass for such a lovely woman, even if she did go about loudly spouting her opinion all the time.

Abigail’s chin snapped back up and her eyes met his. But she didn’t express her dissatisfaction with words. Instead, she stared at him with a challenge glittering in her rich chocolate-colored eyes.

He loved a challenge. And he had to confess, he respected that she’d pulled herself back together.

“What are you thinking?” he softly murmured as he took another step closer. He was close enough to touch her and her scent, like a fresh spring on a crisp autumn day wrapped about him.

One perfect brow arched up. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Her words weren’t loud like he’d expected.

In fact, her voice had dropped into a sultry whisper that actually made him shiver. He recognized the sensation…anticipation. “I would. That’s why I asked.”

Her tongue darted out and she licked her lips, looking up at the ceiling as though she were choosing her next words very carefully. He didn’t think she was intentionally teasing him with her tongue, but the tip, as pretty a pink as her lips, made everything in his body harden.

Her eyes drifted down, meeting his again. “I may not have a choice in our nuptials, but I will have choices in our marriage. And I guarantee that if you force me into this, you’re not going to like them.”

He cocked his head at an angle as he assessed the imp before him. “Challenge accepted, Princess.”

Chapter Two

Abigail blinked at him. Challenge accepted?

What was wrong with this man?

Then she snorted to herself. Everything. There wasn’t a thing that was right. Well, she drew in a shuddering breath, there were a few things that were right, like his muscular thighs. Those looked exactly the way they were supposed to...

He should be running away from her. Or at least having serious doubts. She’d been rude, demanding, and sarcastic. All the tricks she’d learned as the youngest child had not made a dent in his resolve to wed her.

Odd. They always worked with her family. As the youngest, she couldn’t physically best her siblings, but she could needle them. And her father, he’d always found her so charming; whenever he was home, she’d often get her way.

But Blackwater had stood firm.

His finances must be absolutely atrocious.

Bash clears his throat. “We’ve all reached an agreement then?”

“That is what you consider an agreement? Me acknowledging that I have little choice in the matter?” She spun back around to her brother-in-law. “What does Isabella think of all this?”

His answering grimace caught her attention. “Your sister?” he asked, his gaze sliding away.

She cocked her head to the side. “Does my sister know what you have planned?”

“I came to you first,” Bash said, his hands raising up in front of him as if pleading with her not to tell her sister. “I thought you’d appreciate the independence.”

Crossing her arms, she gave Bash a wilting glare. He knew her weak point, she was henpecked by three older sisters and he was attempting to use that against her. “That is complete dung.”

Blasphemy chuckled behind her. “I have to confess that we actually agree on this point.”

Bash gave a withering look over her shoulder, clearly irritated with his friend.

“Don’t get used to it,” she said under her breath. Then she turned back to Bash. “We’re not in a