His Sinful Secret

His Sinful Secret Read Free Page A

Book: His Sinful Secret Read Free
Author: Emma Wildes
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first assailant didn’t survive the attack, or I might have had my answers right then and skipped this night’s enchanting little encounter.” It had been self-defense and Michael hadn’t even been the one to kill the man; on that occasion his coachman had seen the attack and produced a pistol at just the right moment. Or the wrong one, depending on your opinion. The elderly man had proved to have a very accurate aim.
    Inconvenient, though it was expedient at the time. A shame, really. Wounded men tended to talk very readily. Dead ones were very disappointing in that regard.
    “But since it has happened . . . what are you going to do?” Raven brows arched in concerned inquiry.
    “He was set to kill.” Michael was grateful for that split-second glint of the moonlight on the steely blade that almost saved him. Had he not jumped the wrong way, he would be unscathed. The mistake was a problem, but better than a knife in the heart.
    Still, how was he supposed to explain the injury on his wedding night? Even with the lights out and under the shroud of the blankets, she would feel the bandages. The wound might not be severe enough to disable him, thank God, but it could hardly be unwrapped in two short days without breaking open.
    Well, hell. Life had a way of being complicated and this fit nicely in the slot. Bleeding all over his new wife would hardly be construed as romantic, and would, once again, require an excuse of some kind.
    Damnation.
    “I don’t suppose you have brandy?” It wasn’t so much for the pain as just to help clear his head. Michael moved restively in the chair.
    Antonia smiled in a feline curve of her lips.“Of course. Contraband French brandy, though it goes against my principles to admit the bastards do anything well. I bought it from English smugglers, so that eases the pain a little.” With graceful precision she rose and moved across the room to wash the blood off her hands. There was a crystal decanter and glasses on a small table, and she poured them each a measure and turned, barefoot in her pale robe, as feminine as always with her dramatic beauty and that ever-present dark fire in her eyes.
    “Thank you.” He accepted the glass. The heady fragrance filled his nose and he took a hearty sip. “I’ll also need a new shirt. Maybe Lawrence can spare one? With everyone in residence at Southbrook in anticipation of my nuptials, I can’t be assured of an anonymous arrival, no matter that it’s late. I’ll leave my jacket here, if you’ll dispose of it.”
    “Whatever you need, I can take care of it.”
    The husky, sensual promise wasn’t lost on him. Antonia was incredibly useful in some ways, but she wasn’t subtle. He said in a neutral tone, “And your loyalty and resourcefulness are appreciated.”
    “But you still are intent on marrying your little ingenue?”
    He looked at her over the rim of his glass. “Indeed.”
     
    “I delivered your precious package almost to his prestigious doorstep.”
    Antonia glanced up from where she sat by the fireplace. “Your jealousy ill becomes you.”
    Lawrence—if it was a surname or a given, she wasn’t sure, but it was all he offered of his mysterious past—stood with one broad shoulder propped against the doorjamb. The jagged scar that bisected his left eyebrow had missed the eye but continued across his cheek to the taut jawline. Despite the disfigurement he was still attractive, if you liked your males a little raw and rough, with a shock of dark, unruly hair and impressively wide shoulders.
    Nothing like the more refined, classic good looks of the Marquess of Longhaven, but yes, dangerously attractive in an earthy, sinful way.
    “At least I have emotions. I can’t say the same for him. He’s always been a cool one. I was surprised to see all the blood. You’d think he’d bleed icy water.”
    “Not at all.” She could argue the point easily. There was nothing cold about Michael. He was all banked fire without a hint of smoke.

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