Page 4 of Temptress in Disguise
Other harrowing memories scrambled for prominence.
I thought I was in love once, he imagined himself saying as an image of Melissa burst into his mind. But love was the devil’s own deception. A cruel means to strip a man of hope and bring him crashing to his knees. He bore the scar as a permanent reminder not to be so damn foolish again.
Needing to calm the inner chaos, Aramis leaned forward and opened the carriage door. “You’re right. When it comes to women, love and trust are foreign to my vocabulary. That’s how I know you’re a liar. Miss Fontaine beds men for fame and fortune. She manipulates her lovers and picks her victims wisely. Which is why she did not write the note summoning me to the Belldrake.”
Everyone in town knew of his reputation.
No one—and he meant no one—would dare risk his wrath.
He had more than enough money to attract the likes of Miss Fontaine. But he’d donate everything to the homeless refuge before giving the conniving actress a penny.
And so, a few questions remained. Had this woman duped him? If so, for what purpose? Or had his brothers played the prank of the century, and a night of pleasure awaited him at the Copper Crown?
It was time to find out.
“Good night, madam.” He gestured to the pavement.
The lady sat rigid in the seat. “Have you ever been so desperate for help you’d do anything to end the nightmare?”
Merciful Lord!
Was she determined to rake up his past?
He doubted she’d ever experienced real horrors.
“Many times. The night my father dragged me out of bed when I was twelve years old. He needed a child to fight in the pit to pay his debt. The opponent was a beast of a man aged thirty-five.” Despite nursing bruised ribs and a blackened eye, Aaron had offered himself up as the victim. Hence his brother would always be his hero.
Water glistened in her eyes, though she found no words to console him.
How could she?
“I can give you an example more terrifying than dreadful.” Aramis tugged his coat sleeve an inch above his wrist, baring his marred skin. “How about the night someone held my arm over a lit brazier and laughed as I screamed?” He still woke in a sweat, the smell of burning flesh assaulting his nostrils.
She covered her mouth with her hand as she gazed at his ugly scars. It took her a moment to gather herself before saying, “It takes a strong man to endure such hardships.”
“Strong? I’m made of bloody steel.”
“I’m well aware of your attributes, Mr Chance.” Her gaze dipped to examine his muscular thighs like one might assess a stallion at Tattersalls. “It’s why I’m forced to take command of you and your fine equipage.”
Fine equipage?
It was an odd turn of phrase for a woman. Indeed, her reply convinced him his brothers were behind this sham of a kidnapping. Why else would she use a suggestive innuendo? And she wasn’t the least bit fazed by his foul language.
“It seems you have courage abound, madam. Why wait until we reach the Copper Crown to indulge our whims?” Having her might ease the tension and his damnable curiosity. “Put down that ugly bag and let me show you what I can do with my equipage. I assure you, you shall have no complaint.”
She didn’t berate him or attempt to make a hasty escape. She didn’t throw her bag to the floor, hike up her skirts and flash her pretty stockings.
“You mistake my meaning, sir. This is a matter of business, not pleasure. If we’re to spend time together, you must learn to curb your tongue and your appetite.”
Business? The lady was deluded.
He dealt with lying devils daily.
Why would he add another to the growing list?
“On the contrary. Our acquaintance is about to come to an abrupt end. Good night, madam. You can show yourself out.”
When she reached into her bag, he expected her to whip out a bible and flick to a parable about lust and sinners. To lecture him about the dangers of libidinous behaviour. Worse still, he feared she might recite a passage about the benefits of sharing one’s burdens.
