Desire Wears Diamonds Read Free Page A

the
facts. You’re a demon, Rutherford.”
    “No.” Michael gifted him with a crocodile
smile of his own.
    But I’ll be damned if I’ll linger in Hell
and play soldier for the devil.
     

CHAPTER ONE
     
    London
    May 1860
     
    Michael Rutherford leaned his head against
the carved molding that framed one of the windows in Dr. Rowan
West’s study. The eclectic clutter and cozy colors behind him
soothed his spirits. Dr. West’s haven worked its subtle magic on
all the men of the Jaded whenever they came. It was a casual
sanctuary that had kept them close and provided a place for them to
talk, plan or relax and kept the brotherly bonds between them
tight.
    At the moment though it was allowing Michael
to hide from the festivities of all his friends below. Darius
Thorne had finally wed the lovely Miss Isabel Penleigh in a quiet
ceremony that was sure to set off a firestorm of scandal. It had
been weeks since the ink had dried on Miss Penleigh’s first
marriage’s annulment, but the plan for a quick wedding to Darius
had been thwarted by her parents. In a cruel move, Lord and Lady
Penleigh had sued Netherton and claimed that Isabel was not in her
right mind when she left her “dear husband” and that if Lord
Netherton intended to keep her dowry, he would have to keep his
wife as well.
    They’d have been in the court for months or
years if the villain Netherton hadn’t finally broken his silence
privately to her parents about the illegitimacy of the marriage,
his bigamy and his disinterest in regaining Isabel’s hand. They’d
agreed not to expose him to the law in exchange for her dowry, or
whatever was left of it after he’d paid off a few debts.
    It was an uglier end than Thorne had hoped
and a terrible betrayal of her parents to coldly collect their
daughter’s dowry and then promptly to disown her outright for her
“unsightly” condition and her wretched choice of a man with a
profession and not a drop of blue blood.
    From what Michael could see, neither the
bride nor the groom’s happiness had dimmed in the slightest despite
the storm of disapproval around them.
    Apparently love made even the cleverest men
refuse to see the dangers.
    Another wedding…
    Darius’s face had shone with triumph as he
recited his vows and Michael begrudged him none of it. He was glad
for all his friends to have made their way back to their lives. It
wasn’t resentment that drove him away from the revelries.
    It was an uneasy sense that there was a dark
force in motion that would rather see the Jaded at funerals than
flowery celebrations of tender future joys. The Jackal was still
out there. The fire at the Thistle was solid proof that he’d
underestimated the danger and it had shaken his confidence in his
ability to keep his friends safe. Then Darius had told them that
he’d uncovered the presence of a third party who believed that
whatever mystic item they’d spirited out of India must remain in
their hands.
    Their fate was now supposedly controlled by
an ancient prophecy and keeping the sacred treasure out of the
Jackal’s hands was more than a game of fortune—losing to the Jackal
would be the end of all of them and all that they loved.
    Nothing but enemies of the worst kind—the
kind I can’t see.
    Came close to seeing the bastard in that
fire though. Hell, he was close enough to touch in that smoky
stairwell.
    Michael shoved away the memory. He’d lost a
lot of sleep wondering how differently it would have turned out if
he’d been at the head of their group when they’d met the Jackal
face to face. His fingers clenched around empty air in his
frustration.
    “You’re not up here moping, are you?”
Rowan’s voice interrupted.
    “I’m not a child to pout in corners.”
Michael’s back stiffened and his face grew hot with the realization
that he’d protested a little too loudly. He looked exactly like a
toddler hiding in the drapery, and he knew it. “I have a
headache.”
    “I’ll get you something for it