Dangerous Gentlemen (Daughters of Sin 2)

“Yes, you did. Last night at the ball, you made your…desire…quite clear.”

“A gentleman doesn’t expect to be accosted by a lady in such a manner, no matter how much interest he shows her.”

His pupils were dilated, the words rasping from his throat, and he was looking at her as if she were some hideous great spider.

“I gave you what you made quite clear you wanted, Sir Aubrey,” she hissed. “I make no apology for that. You’re the one in the wrong for giving me false ideas if in fact that wasn’t what you wanted. But the deed is done, Sir Aubrey.”

Realizing by the lack of felicity in his expression that she was going too far, she adopted another approach. Forcing down her fury, she said in a quiet, controlled tone, “I’m upset, sir, that you take this attitude. I…I was hoping to give you a very pleasant surprise.”

“A surprise indeed!” he muttered, drawing his hand across his brow as if he were unutterably weary rather than exulted at having taken the virtue of London’s most desirable debutante. “Where is your sister?”

That was the last question she needed to hear when she’d been imagining something more along the lines of “Miss Araminta, will you consent to be my…”

Squaring her shoulders, she said, haughtily, “Gone to give Lord Debenham a certain letter, Sir Aubrey.”

His sudden stillness was heartening, as was his chilly tone. “What did you say?”

Araminta tossed her head. “I told you. She is visiting Lord Debenham at this very moment to give him your letter.”

“I don’t believe you.” Snatching her wrist, he hauled her to her feet. “Take me to your sister,” he demanded, propelling her none too gently before him and closing the door behind them, upon all Araminta’s high hopes.

* * * * *

The moment Hetty found herself face-to-face with Lord Debenham, she realized she’d made a grave miscalculation. For a start, she was alone and defenseless.

And he was clearly in a dangerous mood.

What had she been thinking?

She hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d been forced by desperation into finding the one thing she knew Sir Aubrey—she gulped—her new husband deserved above all else.

In part Araminta’s taunts had motivated her to show her sister that she would prevail.

“You are asking me for the letter?”

How louche he looked, the smell of arrack upon his breath, the empty bottle lying in a corner.

Unfortunately Hetty had arrived in such haste, with heaving chest and eyes blazing, she’d noticed too late his disreputable state. He’d merely raised his glass to her in a mock toast before tossing back the liquor, his own eyes scorching as they’d raked her from head to toe.

“Without your sister beside you, you’re not too hard to look at, little one. Come closer,” he’d said.

But when Hetty had responded acidly that she’d rather approach a cobra, he’d turned nasty.

Now through narrowed eyes he replied, “I think your sister is the only person who can tell you where that letter is.” He got to his feet, his expression filled with such menace that for a moment Hetty thought she’d faint clean away.

Instead, she calculated the distance between her back and the door but he was too quick. Seizing her wrist, he jerked her toward him and, gripping her chin, brought his face close to hers. So close she thought he was going to…bite her. For there was no tenderness in his expression as he said between lips pulled tight, “How might we induce that sister of yours to hand over what she clearly intends to profit by? You, my little one? Her baby sister? Do you think my threats against her precious sister will be sufficient?” He gave a short laugh, his eyes boring into hers, his lip curled in a sneer. “No, I didn’t think so either.”

She squirmed in disgust at the swell of his erection against her belly, recoiling from his breath moist against her ear as he ran his hands all over her. Terror bubbled up inside her but she was unable to force it out in a scream. It was as if every life-preserving instinct had been paralyzed.

“Perhaps the good name of the family is something she’d value more.”

“Please don’t!” Hetty whimpered, twisting in his cruel embrace as he buried his face between her breasts and his hands roamed freely.

“The disappointment is that you’re already spoiled goods, aren’t you?” he glared at her while she struggled ineffectually. “If Sir Aubrey hadn’t already defiled you, he might be called upon to object.” His ragged pants were coming faster now as his grasping fingers pinched her nipples painfully and his mouth latched on to her ear.

Strength surged through her. “Get away from me!” she shrieked, louder now, hearing the tear of fabric and trying not to cry.

“You’re more adventurous than I gave you credit for, Miss Henrietta. Comelier and more desirable now I have you up close.” He licked his lips as he gripped her thighs. “I think you must be a fiery morsel in bed else Sir Aubrey would not have spared you the attention he did.”