Page 61 of The Red (The Godwicks 1)

"I’m glad to hear you say that,” he said. "I couldn’tagreemore.”

The Earl stepped forward and plucked Malcolm’s painting off the wall. Mona lunged forward to rescue it but the Earl wrapped his other arm around her hips, hoisted her over his shoulder, and carried her out of the gallery and into the back seat of a long black town car waiting in the alleyoutback.

"You planned to steal my painting, didn’t you?” Mona demanded as he threw her down onto the supple leatherseats.

"It was Plan B,” he said. Then he called up to the chauffeur with a haughty "Drive.”

"You could be arrested for this,”shesaid.

The car rolled out of the alley and onto the street. She tried the doors but they were all locked. Mona knew she should have been panicking, but she wasn’t afraid at all. Onlyfurious.

"Arrested? For what? For eloping? It’s not a crime. Would you rather be married in Scotland or America? I’ll let you make that decision. Marriage, I hear, is all aboutcompromise.”

He propped the painting up on the bench seat across from them. If it were possible—and now she believed anything was—Malcolm’s eyes seemed to belaughing.

"Married? Have you lostyourmind?”

"Only my inhibitions,” he said. "And you did say the painting goes where you go and that you’d never sell it. If we marry, it becomes half mine. And half is better than nothing. You’ll love Wingthorn. The most beautiful home in the country. Lady Mona has a nice ring to it,doesn’tit?”

"Look, Lord Godwick or whoever the hellyouare—”

"Call me Spencer, love. We are going to be married,afterall.”

"Turn this car around right now and take me back to my gallery,Spencer.”

"You can return to the gallery once we’re married. If you wish. Although I’d rather keep you at Wingthorn with me. Ever seen a Wingthorn rose? White petals, red thorns big as knife points. Beautiful and dangerous, my favoritecombination.”

"The minute you turn your back on me I’m calling the police,”Monasaid.

"I won’t turn my back then,” he said. "I’d rather look at youanyway.”

He raised his hand to touch her face, and she tried to slap it away. He caught her by the wrist and yanked her to him, capturing her in his arms and holding her against hischest.

"Aren’t you a darling,” he said as he subdued her with his vastly superior physical strength. He clasped the back of her neck with his hand and she gave up the fight. He looked at her face, at her lips, at her neck. In her struggle against him, her blouse had opened, revealing the swell of her breasts. Gently he touched her panting chest with his fingertips. "How oldareyou?”

"Twenty-six,”shesaid.

"I’m thirty-seven. Time to settle down, I’vebeentold.”

"This is how you settle down? By kidnapping me and forcing me to marry you for a painting? I won’t do it. I have a cat to takecareof.”

"Surely your exquisite assistant can care for him until we can bring him over. I like pussies of all varieties. He’ll be our little lord of themanor.”

"I don’t even have my passport, youbastard.”

"We’ll go and fetch it.” He lowered the window an inch between the back seat and the front. "Driver? Swing up by Miss St. James’s flat.” He rolled the window back up again and smiled at her. "Not aproblem.”

"You’remad.”

"And you’re lovely when you’re furious. I can’t wait to make you furious for years and yearstocome.”

"Take me back to the gallery this instant. I will notmarryyou.”

"Won’t you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, his tonetaunting.

"Never,”shesaid.

"Most women of my acquaintance would kill to be a wealthycountess.”

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