Devil's Daughter (Devil 2)

“My God. The Earl of Clare—”

“My esteemed sire.”

“Arabella—”

“My less-esteemed sister. Do you wish to review the rest of my family?”

Rayna dropped abruptly to the sofa. “I do not believe it. It is too fantastic. And I was jealous of Bella. Ah, how you must have laughed at me behind my back.”

“No, never that, cara. I felt miserable because I could not tell you who I was. Arabella too.”

“You could have trusted me,” she said.

“I did. As I said, it was a promise to your father. You see, Rayna, your father is not on particularly amicable terms with mine. Nor does your father particularly approve of me.”

“But why?”

“I doubt if I know the whole story. Evidently your father was once in love with my mother—indeed, I believe they were engaged. I gather he thinks my father some sort of marauder who stole the woman he wanted. And I, I fear, am no better.”

“And Father intends me for this ridiculous Lord Lynton,” Rayna said.

Adam was watching her changing expressions. “Now that you know the truth, Rayna, I can take you home.”

“You greatly resemble your father. I should have recognized you.”

“You have not seen me for six years, Rayna.” He stroked his beard. “This foliage renders me somewhat mysterious. I, on the other hand, remembered you as a scraggly little weed, with flyaway hair and skinned knees, forever trying to keep up with your brothers.”

She saw him frown impatiently and said quickly, “So the comte is stealing from your family?”

“He is involved, certainly. I think Bella and I have discovered who the person is who did the actual looting. My father should be arriving within the week. Then, my dear, I can have a talk with your father.”

“I see,” she said. She rose from the sofa, gazed at Adam from beneath her lashes, and swayed. “Everything is so dark,” she whispered, flinging her hands toward him. He was at her side in an instant, his hands on her shoulders.

“Are you all right?”

“I shall be better soon,” she whispered and promptly leaned against him.

Adam set about to soothe her. That his soothing took the form of a kiss did not seem inappropriate to him at the moment. When his tongue lightly caressed her lips, she parted her own. He wh

ispered love words into her mouth, a tantalizing mixture of Italian and English, his breath warm and sweet. She felt his large hands stroke down her back to her hips, and he lifted her, pressing her against him.

Adam got hold of himself. “Forgive me, love, I would not hurt you, ever.”

“What did you say?”

“Home. I must get you home.”

He thought he was taking advantage of her. “I still feel a bit faint,” she said, and promptly sat down on the sofa.

Adam stared down at her. Did she not realize that she was driving him wild?

Rayna drew back, a small smile playing about her lips. Adam watched her fingers unfasten the small buttons of her bodice.

“Rayna, you will immediately stop what you are doing.”

She continued with the buttons, not looking at him, until she felt the cool air touch her bare flesh. As she pushed at the lace straps of her chemise, his fingers covered hers.

“So,” he said at last, “this is why you came here to me.”