Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)

It was something she was rather good at.

“They are nothing less than perfect, Edmond, as you well know.” Rising to her feet, she turned to confront him squarely. “But these are for the next Duchess of Huntley, not some mere pretender. It would be wrong for anyone but Stefan’s wife to be seen in them.”

“They are stones, ma souris, they will hardly care whether you are destined to be the future Duchess of Huntley or not,” he mocked.

“No, but all of society will recall seeing them upon me. It would tarnish them for Stefan’s future wife.”

“Tarnish them?”

“Yes.”

“You…” With an obvious effort, Edmond controlled his flare of temper, and with an exaggerated bow, he turned to head for the door. “Since I cannot decide whether to strangle you or bed you, I shall instead leave you to finish your dressing. Please be good enough to join me in the foyer when you are done.”

HIDING IN THE SHADOWS of the upper landing, Janet watched as Edmond Summerville settled a beaded cashmere shawl around the shoulders of her mistress.

The lean male body appeared to be tense with a tightly coiled anger, but his hands were remarkably gentle as he stroked Brianna’s arms, his head lowered as if attempting to breathe in the scent of his delicate companion.

Janet was well aware that Lord Edmond’s manner toward his brother’s ward had been overly intimate from the moment they had entered the town house. There could be no doubt he had every intention of trying to seduce her, and judging by Brianna’s reaction to the handsome gentleman, he might very well accomplish his goal.

But Janet was more bothered when she witnessed Lord Edmond glare at the footman who stepped forward to assist Brianna when she dropped her painted ivory fan. He was possessive, almost aggressively so, as if he considered her his personal property.

Which was far more dangerous than mere lust.

Wondering if they had managed to leap from the frying pan into the fire, Janet was caught off guard when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind and hauled her back from the balustrade.

“And what do you think you’re doing spying upon my master?” a rumbling male voice demanded against her ear.

Janet twisted until she could face her large captor, lifting her hand to smack against the hard, massive chest.

“Oh, stop that,” she hissed.

Clearly expecting a very different reaction, Boris dropped his arms.

“Stop what?”

“Pretending that ye can barely speak English.” She folded her arms over her chest, struggling not to notice the flutter of her heart as the candlelight played over his strong features. Her father had taught her from the cradle never to be swayed by a handsome face or pair of pretty eyes, even if they were the exact shade of a cloudless sky. “I may be from the stews but I ain’t stupid,” she warned, her lips thinning with annoyance at his attempt to deceive her. “I know an educated gent, especially one who happens to be a soldier, when one crosses me path.”

He stilled, his eyes narrowing. “Do you?”

“Aye.”

He leaned downward, his breath brushing h

er cheek in a warm caress. “It can oft times be dangerous to see too much.”

“Is that a threat?” she demanded even as she shivered in pleasure.

“Are you frightened?” he asked, his accent not nearly so thick.

Janet tilted her chin with a sniff. “By the likes of you? Bah. I’ve faced cutthroats that could make you weep in fear. Me own father is one.”

His lips twitched with grudging amusement as he straightened and peered down the length of his nose at her stubborn face.

“You did not answer my question,” he said. “Why are you spying on my master?”

She saw no reason to lie. “I don’t happen to trust Lord Edmond Summerville.”

“You question his honor?”