Temptation & Twilight Read Free Page B

thinking of how I might spend the next few hours lying in sin and BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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    regret before I am forced to confront my future. I might very well be dead come the morrow. A send-off worthy of the most proliferate rake should be in order.”
    “It should. I offered and you declined.”
    “Ah, yes. Well, a man needs to have his head—both of them—in the right place during these matters. Rest assured, after I have satisfied the terms of your husband’s duel I shall come and release all the pent-up frustration and contemplation that is building inside me. Will that suffice?”
    She flopped back onto his bed with a pout, her legs sliding evocatively against each other. “I suppose,” she muttered. “But you’ll think of me when you are on that field, fighting for my honour?”
    “Trust me, I shall be thinking of nothing else.” Christ, he needed another drink. He was getting bilious, nat-tering away about such tripe. All he could say was that she—and this damned duel—had better be worth it. If he didn’t discover anything about Orpheus from Lady Larabie, he might just end up putting a bullet in his own chest.
    “Are you afraid to meet him?”
    “Larabie?” Iain snorted. “Not in the least.”
    “No, the Grim Reaper.”
    “Him? Why should I? I already know the path of my destiny.”
    “And have you any regrets?” she whispered, watching him with eyes that were suddenly very clear and knowing —eyes that made the hairs on his neck rise in warning.
    “No, none.”
    “No business left unattended? Nothing left unsaid?
    No apologies to be made?”
    “Not a one, I’m afraid,” he growled as he fitted his BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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    sporran around his waist. “I never apologize. It means I was in the wrong—and I am never that, luv.”
    “Such brass bollocks you possess, my lord. No atoning for your sins before you fall to the earth, never to speak again. No absolution for past transgressions.” He froze, not wanting Georgiana’s words to have any sort of impact upon him, but they did, damn it. Unknowingly, the witch made an image flash in his mind, one that left him tense and uncomfortable, his mouth curling in disdain—for himself, for his foolish, hurtful past, and a damnable pride that had caused his fall.
    “Ah,” she whispered, and he saw cruel delight flare in her dark brown eyes. “Perhaps the Aberrant Alynwick is not so deviant, after all?”
    “You goad me, and I shall exact punishment upon you after this infernal duel is complete.”
    “I do look forward to it.”
    After bowing to her, he reached for his tumbler of Scotch and headed to the door. Before leaving he turned back around. “I expect I’ll find you tonight?”
    “I expect you will—and most likely someone else.” Slamming the door behind him, Iain hurried down the stairs. Tossing back the remainder of the Scotch, he passed the crystal glass to his butler, who then handed him his greatcoat. Waving off the hat and walking stick, Iain left his house and hurried down the steps to his waiting carriage. Ducking his head after barking out the direction he was going, he climbed in and settled himself against the crème-velvet squabs.
    Lurching forward, the carriage began its journey, the click of the horses’ hooves echoing down the street. It was November, and Mayfair wasn’t as busy as it was during the Season. Pity that, for he could have used the BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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    noise of life outside to keep him from reflecting on life inside the carriage.
    He had thought to go to his club, have a bit of supper, a hand of cards and a few more drinks before his dawn appointment at Grantham Field. But all that had changed now. He had something he needed to