A Wicked Way to Win an Earl Read Free Page B

animal passions.”
    She was glaring at the back of his head when she noticed he’d begun shoving a hand through his thick dark hair. The crisp waves curled and caught a bit against his long fingers. Did that mean he was nettled, then? Oh, she hoped so. She’d be immensely gratified to have annoyed him.
    She had just begun to enjoy that idea when he whipped around to face her. She was so surprised she crashed right into him. Strong hands reached out to steady her, but when she was upright again, he didn’t release her. Instead he pulled her just a bit closer—not so close his body touched hers, but more than close enough to completely unnerve her.
    â€œI
was
carried away by my animal passions,” he murmured in a low, seductive voice. His velvety dark eyes caught and held hers. “I’m an impatient man, you see, Miss Somerset. Especially when it comes to”—he dropped his voice to a whisper—“
fornication.
”
    For one moment Delia was mesmerized, staring at him as if he were a snake charmer and she were rising from her basket after languishing there for decades. But then she noticed a hint of a smirk on his lips and jerked free from his grasp.
    Goodness gracious. Her face heated yet again. “Perhaps it would be better if we didn’t speak.”
    Another careless shrug. “If you choose.”
    Awful, teasing man.
    They walked along the road for a while, the only sound now the soft, wet thud of boots against mud. After a half mile or so he turned off the road and pulled back some overgrown bushes. “The inn is on the other side.” He gestured for her to walk in front of him.
    As soon as Delia passed through the thick brush, she could see the path, and there at the end was the Prickly Thistle Inn. She’d walked right by it earlier without noticing, as it was impossible to see the squat stone building from the road. She glanced resentfully at her silent companion. She had cause to regret her inattention now, didn’t she?
    Delia breathed an immediate sigh of relief when they entered the inn. It was almost dark outside and growing colder, but there was a massive stone fireplace at one end of the main room that threw out considerable light and heat. A grizzled little man was running a damp cloth over the scarred wooden surface of the bar. “A pint fer ye, me lord?” he called, when he caught sight of Delia and her companion hovering in the doorway.
    â€œNot this time, thank you, George,” Delia’s companion replied, but he wasn’t looking at the gray-haired man. He was looking at her, a smug grin lifting the corners of his wide mouth.
    Delia stared back at him, aghast.
Oh, no, no, no!
But even as her brain worked frantically to deny it, she began to remember certain little details. His lack of reaction when she mentioned the earl’s name. His concern over the injured coachman, a coachman who had been sent by the Earl of Carlisle to convey them to Kent. The fine quality and fit of his clothes—that was, when they were fastened.
    And who else but an arrogant earl would
dare
 . . .
    Delia wanted to stamp her foot with ire. It couldn’t be!Her mind struggled to think of anything that would prove her dreadful suspicion wrong.
    Yes! The woman. The one he’d been groping. The giggler. She’d called this man
Alec
. That wasn’t right, because Charlotte and Ellie’s brother was named . . .
    Delia closed her eyes in despair. Charlotte and Ellie’s brother was named Alexander. Alexander Sutherland.
    Alec
.
    The fornicator. The debaucher. The lifter of women’s skirts and the unbuttoner of breeches.
    He
was Lord Carlisle.

Chapter Two

    â€œMiss Somerset.” Alec swept her a low, mocking bow. “As you may have deduced, I am Carlisle. You’ll be my guest at Bellwood for the next several weeks.”
    He watched with detached interest as a series of expressions flickered across her