A Spy Unmasked (Entangled Scandalous) Read Free Page B

incriminate the viscount.
    He sighed as he loosened his cravat and pulled the silk free of his shirt points. “I do apologize, my mystery lady, but necessity requires it.”
    Too late, she realized his intent.
    “No!” she cried out.
    His hand snaked out, and he pulled her back to him. She struggled wildly, slamming her heel into his instep. He grunted, but his grasp didn’t loosen, and he removed her mask and flung it aside. Covering her mouth with the cravat’s snowy silk, his strong fingers worked a knot behind her head.
    “What the devil—”
    The red wig dropped to the straw at her feet. Night air tingled her scalp. She continued to struggle, but he was relentless as he worked the pins that held her hair in a knot atop her head. Chestnut tresses tumbled down her shoulders.
    “Ah, that explains the eyes,” he said in a low voice.
    Unable to speak, she twisted in his arms and shot him a withering glance.
    Ian handed Robert a short rope from the stable wall and he quickly bound her hands in front of her. He then retrieved the wig and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.
    He turned to his accomplice. “I’ll contact you once I’ve delivered the package,” he told Ian.
    “The marquess is going to want answers from her,” Ian said.
    Robert’s voice was firm. “I’ll get them.”
    A shiver ran down Sophia’s spine.
    Moments later, she found herself upon the horse with him mounted once again behind her. As he guided the horse farther down the alleyway, a cold knot fisted in her stomach. Why was he taking her with him? If he had stolen the “package” he was after, why did he not release her?
    He pulled the horse up at the rear of one of the town houses. Lifting her down, he held her arm firmly as he guided her to the back servants’ entrance.
    Her brain was in tumult. Once he took her inside, she would be completely at his mercy. He could use any of the dastardly tactics Delmont was known for during interrogation. She struggled anew, kicking at his shins.
    Never breaking his stride, he snatched her up like a piece of baggage and swept her over his shoulder. With one arm clamped about her thighs, he proceeded to the back door.
    Before he knocked, the door opened to reveal a stern-faced butler with the look of a gunnery sergeant. He didn’t even arch an eyebrow at the sight of a lady bound and gagged, dressed in full evening wear, and flung over a man’s shoulder.
    “The marquess is expecting me.”
    The butler opened the door wide. “Put your guest in the sitting room.”
    Robert strode inside. From her awkward angle she saw the slate tiles of a kitchen. The air was redolent with the aroma of roast lamb. Continuing through the kitchen, they turned left down a long hall and entered into a sitting room where he unceremoniously deposited her on a settee. Struggling to sit upright, she glared up at him. The butler lit two lamps and departed.
    Robert crouched, and she found herself looking into the enigmatic blue of his eyes. Her first thought was that he had discarded his mask. Her second was that she had never seen a face as vividly handsome.
    Bronzed skin stretched over high cheekbones and classically chiseled features. The dip in his chin was designed to make a woman want to press her lips there to see if he was truly flesh and blood or an artist’s marble carving. A lock of his hair fell artfully across his forehead to brush straight brows in a style many dandies would surely envy.
    But despite his handsome countenance she could see him for who he truly was—deceiving and unscrupulous.
    She cringed as he pulled a knife from his boot, the lamplight flashing off the steel blade, but he merely cut her bindings and loosed the cravat tied behind her head. She swallowed hard and rubbed her wrists.
    “My superior does not like surprises. I’ll ask you again, who are you?” he said.
    His superior? Good Lord, what had she gotten herself mixed up in?
    “You first,” she said. “And don’t you dare tell me you