Page 10 of Temptress in Disguise
“I prefer to call it justice as opposed to revenge. It sounds morally correct, does it not?”
“Let me rephrase. How do you mean to gain justice?”
Naomi braced herself. She wished she had bound him in shackles, though leg irons wouldn’t prevent the beast from howling his objection. “I shall begin by marrying you, sir.”
ChapterThree
Aramis needed air.
He needed a stiff brandy and a hard punch to the gut. Something to bring calm to the chaos. Something to banish the surge of painful memories.
Miss Grant was a devious imp out to tear his ordered world in two. A siren disguised as a prim bluestocking. A woman with a clever mouth and magical hands. Why else would he feel a profound spark of attraction from a simple touch?
“Marry me? Have you taken leave of your senses?”
The woman intrigued him. The urge to bed her had left him nursing a throbbing cockstand the entire journey. He’d hire a room and pleasure her until dawn, by which time lust’s flames would be nought but dying embers.
But marriage?
Shackled for life?
“Think of it this way,” she said, as if his dilemma amounted to nothing more than choosing a dessert at dinner. “It would stop Mrs Wendon harassing you. I believe she’s one of many desperate females out to snag a handsome husband for her daughter.”
“I could have the face of a gargoyle, and Mrs Wendon would still hound me to the ends of the earth. The desperate females you mention want one thing only—money.”
Miss Grant’s tempting mouth curled into a smile. “Perhaps they find your kind heart and compassionate nature attractive.”
The minx’s sarcasm knew no bounds. “Taunt me at your peril.”
“I’m not afraid of you, sir.”
“Liar.”
She raised her dainty chin. “I’m afraid you won’t agree to my plan, but I don’t believe you would hurt me. I find your blunt manner and honest expressions quite refreshing.”
The mention of theplanleft a bitter taste in his mouth. “What makes you so different from Melissa?” Uttering that name had shame clawing in his veins. Humiliation was a sickness that worsened with time. “You mean to use me for your own gain.”
“On the contrary, we can be useful to each other. I will bring my devious uncle to justice, and you will punish the woman you despise. I want nothing from the marriage. Though to show my gratitude, I will give you a share of my inheritance when we part ways.”
Aramis scoffed. “I don’t want or need your money.”
“Then name your price.”
He fell silent, contemplating what it would take to sign away his freedom. On reflection, Miss Grant’s idea had some merit. A married man could go about his business in peace. And it would be amusing to watch his brother Theo become Mrs Wendon’s whipping boy.
“You would never agree to my price.” He had an unreasonable list of demands which he would want in writing, preferably in blood.
“Allow me to decide what’s acceptable, sir.”
He observed her proud demeanour and the wide mouth that held him entranced. It was unusual for such a slight creature to be so courageous. He had been wrong about her hair. It was so fair it might be made of fairy dust. It was pinned loosely. One slight tug and it would tumble down around her shoulders.
It wouldn’t take much to unleash her untamed passion.
It wouldn’t take much to make her a slave to his will.
“I’ll insist you tell everyone it’s a love match.” He’d not have the lofty lords think him foolish. “You’ll make no claim on my assets. I’ll provide for you only until we’ve dealt with your uncle.”
“And found my sister,” she added.
