Scandals Bride (Cynster 3)

With one last, warning glance at Richard, Algaria inclined her head and went. Richard watched her retreat, her spine poker-stiff. "Does she bite?"

Catriona nearly choked on her tea. "She's a fully fledged disciple-she was my mentor after my mother died. So beware-she might turn you into a toad if you step too tar over the line."

Richard sipped, then turned and studied her. She was still simmering. "You can rip up at me, if you like."

The glance she shot him suggested she was seriously considering it. "This is all your fault. While they think there's an outside chance-the most distant possibility-they'll feel compelled to make a push to"-she gestured-"interest you in me."

"You could always explain they don't need to make the effort."

Catriona stiffened, she glanced up-and saw the lurking heat in his eyes. She frowned "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop thinking of that kiss in the graveyard."

"Why? It was a very enjoyable kiss, even in a graveyard."

She fought not to wriggle her shoulders, fought not to think of it herself. "It was a mistake."

"So you keep insisting."

"You could end this entire charade, this senseless agony of expectation, by simply stating your mind."

"How can I do that if I don't know it myself?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know perfectly well you'll return to London in a week's time, unencumbered by a wife." He merely raised his brows, with that irritatingly arrogant confidence that never failed to get her goat. She looked away "You don't want to marry me, any more than I wish to marry you."

Turning his head, he looked down at her; she felt the sudden intensity of his gaze.

"Ah-but I do wish, very much, to bed you, as much, if not more, than you wish me to do so, which might well predispose us to wed."

Stunned, Catriona looked up; politely, he raised his brows, his eyes like blue flame. "Don't you think?"

She snapped her mouth shut. "I do not!" Her cheeks burned, she dragged in a breath and looked away, adding through clenched teeth: "I most certainly do not wish you to bed me."

He studied her profile, even without looking, she knew his brows rose higher "Now who's lying?"

She straightened, but couldn't meet his eyes. "You're only teasing me."

"Am I?"

The soft words set her nerves skittering. And his fingers settled on the sensitive skin of her nape. She lost her wits, lost her breath. His fingers shifted, in the lightest caress-

She hauled in a breath and whirled to face him. "Stop that!"

"Why?" His expression unreadable, he studied her frown. "You like it."

Biting her tongue against another lie, she forced herself to meet his gaze-to ignore the wild sensations crashing through her. "Given that you will not be bedding me, there will be no reason for us to wed, and you will go back to London, and Seamus's fortune will go to the Church. Why won't you admit it?"

He raised his brows. "I will admit that if I'm involved at all, a wedding will certainly necessitate a bedding. In your case, to my mind, the two are inseparable-the one will beget the other."

"Very likely." Catriona spoke through gritted teeth. "However, as there will be no wedding-"

"What's this?"

Before she could focus, let alone gather her wits, he reached for the fine chain that hung about her throat, visible above the neckline of her gown. Before she could catch his hand, he drew the chain tree, lifting the pendant from its sanctuary in the valley between her breasts.

And clasped it in his hand, turned it between his long fingers. Catriona froze.