Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed Read Free Page A

unsatisfying kiss. He dragged in an unsteady breath and struggled against the powerful urge to kiss her properly. Theremightn’t be much cachet in fucking Lord Hillbrook’s sister-in-law, but he had a grim feeling that wouldn’t stop him.
    Her eyes were wide and dark with shock. Because he’d kissed her? Or because for a fleeting instant, she might have enjoyed it?
    “Why the hesitation?” Her tone was raw. “Get it over with.”
    He tapped her cheek with a chiding index finger. “I haven’t had my dinner yet,” he said mildly and released her.
    She staggered but found her balance with impressive speed. Breath escaped her parted lips in unsteady gasps. He preferred her outrage to her vulnerability. Against his will, her vulnerability ate at his ruthlessness like rust on iron. “Won’t you join me?”
    She regarded him with well-deserved hatred. “I’m not hungry.”
    “Pity. You’ll need your strength later.”
    He let that sink in while he sat and rang the bell. Mrs. Bevan appeared with astonishing speed. She’d probably been listening at the door. Entertainment at Castle Craven was so lacking, he hardly blamed her.
    “You may serve dinner, Mrs. Bevan,” he said with a cheerfulness that earned him a puzzled glance from his housekeeper.
    “Aye, maister. And for yon lady?”
    Miss Forsythe remained standing where she had when he’d kissed her. She was back to looking like a marble statue, but now that he’d touched her, he knew she was flesh and blood, all right.
    “Two?”
    The girl didn’t react. Good Lord, had that kiss silencedher clever tongue? He hoped to coax her into using it again. Not for idle conversation.
    He addressed Mrs. Bevan. “No, for one. Please show the lady to her room. Mr. Bevan can serve my meal.”
    “Aye, maister.” The woman shuffled out and after a brief hesitation, the girl collected her meager luggage and followed.
    Jonas wished he could be there when Miss Forsythe discovered that in this ramshackle pile, her room also served as his.

Chapter Two

    I n the elaborate four-poster bed, Sidonie huddled under the covers. Outside, the gale tore at the castle walls. Its roar made her feel even more defenseless. Fear had hounded her since Roberta had come to her at Barstowe Hall two days ago and begged for help. Fear cramped her stomach and lodged like a boulder in her throat. Fear tasted foul in her mouth.
    Second thoughts came too late. Whatever Merrick did to Sidonie couldn’t compare to the consequences if William discovered his wife had shared his enemy’s bed. Roberta’s recklessness had placed them all in jeopardy. Sidonie. Roberta. Roberta’s two children, Nicholas and Thomas. But how could Sidonie maintain her anger? Roberta had been more mother than sister when the two Forsythe girls had lived under their parents’ negligent regime. Then Roberta had exchanged her father’s cold, sarcastic tyranny for her husband’s cruelty. Over eight years of marriage, Roberta had changed from avivacious, affectionate girl into a nervy shadow. The only time Sidonie glimpsed a trace of Roberta’s former gaiety was if she won at the gaming tables.
    When she was on a winning streak, Roberta was blind to all consequences. It wasn’t difficult to picture Jonas Merrick luring her into deeper and deeper play. Until finally he held his enemy’s wife in his power.
    For pride’s sake and to avoid damaging scandal, both William and Roberta kept the misery of their union a domestic secret. Jonas Merrick could have no idea of the damage he threatened to the innocent when he accepted Lady Hillbrook’s vowels. Or perhaps he guessed and didn’t care.
    So now Sidonie waited in Jonas Merrick’s bed like a sacrificial lamb. She guessed this was Merrick’s room, although the only evidence of his occupancy was a set of heavy silver brushes on the dressing table, and some subtle scent lingering on the linen and in the air. When he’d kissed her downstairs, he’d imprinted himself on her