Something In Red (Fancytales Regency Romance Series) Read Free Page B

the door a few moments ago – including the countesses absence. Nothing moved, nothing out of place, nothing open that had not been opened or closed that had not been closed.
    The pouch of coin she had given him for services rendered still sat where he had left it on the corner of her escritoire. Damien palmed it, slid open a drawer, and dropped it inside.
    The doors to the terrace were closed, but he thought he saw a shadow, a flash of material...
    “What have you done? Where is my grandmother?”

Chapter Five
     
    Voices in the corridor outside alerted Rhiad to the imminent possibility of compromise. If she should be caught here by a guest, alone in her grandmother's chambers with Lord Wolfe, the outcome would be tragic.
    Without giving the matter much thought, she hurriedly closed the door, locked it, and then fumbled with a moment of uncertainty. What if the voice she had heard had been her grandmother? Her hand reached for the key...only to collide with Lord Wolfe's. Again, he cautioned her to silence before he pulled her toward the doors to the terrace.
    “Your grandmother went out through here, Red. Any idea where she might have gone? Or if she planned to meet with someone else?” he asked, pulling her along with him without even bothering to ask her to accompany him or for her permission.
    “Someone else ? I don't understand...” Outside on the terrace now, Rhiad peered left and right into the darkness, searching for another presence.
    Damien tugged at her hand. “Your grandmother asked me to take care of something for her tonight. I was to report here when the matter was done. I did so, but then your grandmother mentioned something about her pin, went back inside her room, and disappeared. Was she to meet with someone other than me before the ball, Red?”
    Rhiad shook her head. “What did Grams want you to do?”
    The smirk on his lips was barely detectable, here in the shadows as they were. “Save you , of course.”
    He pulled at her hand again, but Rhiad refused to budge. “Save me ? From what? Or whom? I would think Grams would rather be more interested in saving me from you!”
    “Tsk, tsk, Red. We have already established it is I who should be worried about ravishment at your hand. It seems you have a habit of indulging in your little curiosities, as well. Lord Gant, Lord Sebreton, Lord Wallingsley....”
    Rhiad raised her hand, fully intending to slap the censure in his tone away, but he caught it in his own, twisted it behind her, and forced her up against his chest. “You should have a care, Red. The ton is not known for silence. The gossip mills sing with a well-oiled hum, and your name is frequently among the lyrics.”
    Pressed hard against his chest, Rhiad could not quite keep her thoughts on their conversation. Instead, her mind was busy cataloging the details her body reported in stunning detail. Like how soft his lips seemed at such close proximity, how hard his body felt, and how warm. How the rumble of his voice low in his chest caused an answering vibration within her she could not explain, and how the faint scent of man emanating from him merely added to the growing cacophony of reaction his nearness was causing through her senses.
    “My, you certainly have an ear for gossip, my lord. Perhaps we should discuss a few of your current friendships .”
    “We could, but it would surely be a case of the pot calling the kettle black, would it not?” A wry smile twisted his lips. He squeezed her closer, the action causing yet another riot of sensation. “Your grandmother is not in her rooms, Red. She left through those terrace doors while knowing I waited for her in the corridor. Why?”
    “Perhaps she knew I was coming, my lord. I vow she has the keenest sense of hearing in all England. She likely knew Lady Marsden and Lord Wetherley were coming up the stairs as well.”
    Encouraged by her deductive line of thinking, Rhiad began to tick her fingers against his coat with each point made.