Heart of the Diamond Read Free Page A

looked like the head of an animal and it had two white jewels for eyes. Diamonds. Chills raced over Nicki's skin.
    “Proper procedures must be followed. I have no desire to face an angry fiancé with pistols at dawn.” Dylan looked up to fasten his compelling gaze on the man before him. “You know what must be done. Perhaps better than I.”
    Nicki looked back and forth from the stone-faced Dylan to her father, who had gone deathly pale and appeared in danger of collapsing. 
    “Don't do this, Dylan. She has nothing to do with our troubles.”
    Stiffness claimed the handsome features of Dylan's face. “I beg to differ, sir. She is a threat to my honor.”
    The cold words sliced through the tension in the room. Nicki rubbed her arms. “But, sir, no harm has been done.”
    Both men ignored her as they continued to stare at each other.
    “What think you, Billington? Do you agree no harm can come from this night? Will you try to fob off a ruined girl to uphold a betrothal? I suppose you would if your honor has no importance to you. But I will let it be known that I was willing to take the proper action. Will you do the right thing?”
    Nicki's father hesitated.
    “Yes, devil take it.” He tugged at the collar of his nightshirt, the familiar gesture testimony to the extent of his discomfit.
    “I now understand where your daughter gets her colorful vocabulary. At any rate, the matter is settled. I trust you will see to the other gentleman.”
    Her father nodded. He glared at the frayed Persian carpet, his jaw working spasmodically. Unnerved by her father's demeanor, Nicki returned her attention to the man across the room.
    Silver. His eyes were silver framed with incredibly long, black lashes. Like the eyes in the ring. His gaze flashed to her and Nicki flinched. She stood mesmerized, incapable of movement.
    “Congratulations, my lady.” Blake Dylan smiled, but without warmth—merely a baring of white teeth. “It seems we are engaged.”
    . . .
    After seeing the Langleys to the door, Blake Dylan returned to his bedchamber. Moonlight streamed in the open window and drew him across the room. He pressed his clenched fists against the frame. Then suddenly, with a fierce shove, he slammed the window closed. The glass rattled in the frame. He examined his reflection in the panes of glass, staring at the distorted image of his face. None of the turmoil raging through his soul showed in his features.
    Never reveal your emotions. That was his father's creed. Blake had perfected it.
    When he turned away, his bare shoulder brushed the ragged edges of the torn curtain. He paused to trace the rip with his index finger. Langley's daughter. Who would have thought she'd enter the house through a second-story window?
    He had fallen asleep in the chair while going over the Rosewood accounts as he awaited the arrival of the Langley's daughter. The candle had burned out as he slept, yet the darkness worked as a useful tool. After the tearing sound had awakened him, he found he could watch the girl without allowing her to see him clearly.
    His first day in residence at Rosewood—and already his plans were set in motion. When he arranged for the note to be delivered to Nicole Langley, he half expected her to visit him circumspectly in the daylight hours, despite Teddy's description of his meetings with the girl. The unmarried women of Blake's acquaintance did not visit men in their bedchambers in the middle of the night. Certainly not dressed in trousers. Nicole had surprised him, something that did not happen often.
    The man he had stationed at the Langley mansion had been told to watch for a young lady to leave the house, then deliver the second note to Billington. His success was obvious.
    Carefully laid plans always paid off in the end.
    Before passing a fortnight in England, Blake had become engaged to the woman he sought—the daughter of the man he had hated for years and the one true love of the deceitful Teddy Bartholomew. Too