Heart of the Diamond Read Free

This was the father she knew.
    “If you'd come to me before charging out of the house, I could've explained Ted hadn't returned.”
    Tears welled up before Nicki could stay them. She used her elbow to push herself more firmly from the man holding her. This time he did not restrain her.
    Why was this happening? She had only wanted to speak to Teddy. Nicki rose and moved to stand several feet away from Dylan. Feeling suddenly chilled, she crossed her arms over her chest.
    Curious, she glanced at the man to find him still hunkered down with his elbows resting on his knees. His loosely clasped hands dangled between muscular thighs clothed in light-colored fabric. Nicki thought she saw the wink of a gem on a ring he wore on his index finger. She raised her gaze.
    Now that his torso was clearly visible to her, she better understood her father's distress. At least Dylan was not naked, as she had first believed.
    Her gaze continued upward to his face and she discovered he had been watching her inspection. Heat flamed her cheeks.
    With a wry grin, he raised from his crouch. His muscles were sleek and taut. Nicki's errant gaze dropped to his hips, clad in fawn-colored breeches so snug he might as well have worn nothing at all. The chill of only moments ago fled before the sudden onslaught of liquid warmth. She struggled again to bring her breathing under control.
    Completely at ease, Dylan turned and strode away into the shadows where he paused before an enormous bureau and removed the glass covering from a lamp.
    Guilt struck Nicki hard when she realized she had watched the play of muscles across his . . . posterior . . . with flagrant fascination. She excused her behavior with the thought that she had a deep respect for Greek sculpture and this man was truly a masterpiece.
    A crack of flint against stone caused Nicki to start. Dylan replaced the globe over the flame and the added illumination chased any remaining gloom from the bedchamber.
    An unperturbed Dylan turned to lean a bronze shoulder against the dark cherrywood bureau. He crossed his arms over the wide expanse of his bare, muscled chest.
    “Chester, remind me to install more chairs in my bedchamber. I was unaware of the neighborly custom of visiting a man in the middle of the night. Then again, I have been out of the country for some time. Also make a note that I shall have to hone my climbing skills as well if I am to return the courtesy. It seems one enters a neighbor's house through the window—or through the door brandishing a weapon. The window seems slightly more civilized, though I am not certain yet which is the more dangerous.”
    “As if you were ever civilized, Dylan!” interjected Nicki's father.
    Nicki gaped at her father. Such rude outbursts were uncommon, even for him. “Papa, whatever are you doing here?”
    He sputtered, the skin of his face reddening once again. “Well . . . I . . . the note . . . ”
    “I believe your father is here to protect your virtue, my lady. It seems you have landed in a . . . situation.”
    Her father glanced uncomfortably toward the butler. The tassel of his nightcap dropped over one eye. “It might be best to continue this conversation in private, Dylan.”
    One brief nod from his new master and Chester bowed stiffly and left the room. The door closed with a crisp click.
    Calm as Lucifer himself, Dylan returned his attention to the intruder. “Whether we speak alone or in the presence of an army of servants, the damage is done.”
    Her father looked at her for an instant, then at the gun in his hand. His faced flushed as he stuffed the weapon into the pocket of his brocade jacket. “My daughter's betrothed to another. We'll take our leave now and forget this matter. I don't know what game you're playing, Dylan, but I won't be a part of it.”
    “Oh, I think you will take part, Billington.” Blake Dylan lifted his hand and curled long fingers to survey his nails.
    Nicki could see the ring clearly in the lamp light. It