The Beauty and the Spy Read Free Page A

positioned her beside the bed. He leaned down into her face, and she cringed. “I said I wouldn’t hurtyou. I don’t lie. Now stand still or I’ll lose my patience.”
    He took the sheet and began to rip the fine fabric into strips with only his bare hands in a deliberate show of strength. Taken by surprise when she tried to scramble across the bed in a flurry of skirts and petticoats, he was grudgingly impressed with her bravery—or foolhardiness. Catching her from behind, he pressed her down onto her stomach with one hand, then flipped her skirts up with the other to tie her ankles.
    â€œThis is ridiculous, you know,” he said casually. “You can’t overpower me.”
    Though her legs trembled, she didn’t try to scream. He held her delicate ankles and found himself looking up the length of her legs, past her silk stockings and garters, to her drawers slit to reveal her inner thighs.
    In a deliberate attempt to subdue her—and feeling rather disgusted with himself to have to resort to this tactic—he ran his hand down the back of her thigh, letting his fingers brush the bare skin in between. She gave a strangled moan, and he stopped instantly. She had legs to make a man desperate—not that he’d ever get to sample what was between them. He tied her ankles, rolled her over, and secured her wrists in front. After he stuffed a small ball of linen in her mouth, he tied a gag about her head. She glared at him with damp eyes, but no more tears. He blindfolded her.
    â€œThis is for your own benefit,” he said, as he lifted her into his arms and strode to the balcony. “Remember what will happen to you if Campbell gets ahold of you.”
    Staring down at her bright blue gown and the smooth expanse of creamy skin and shoulders above her neckline, he realized that she would stand out in the dark alley. He wrapped her in a blanket and carried her outside.
    Charlotte could barely breathe, and she struggled to keep her panic from overwhelming her. She’d been bound with ropes once before, and had hoped never to feel such helplessness again. She wanted to cry and sob and start this whole day over. She would stay with her mother and her friends this time, never leave the safety of the ballroom.
    If only she hadn’t read her father’s journals and put such outlandish notions in her head. Yet they were her only guide now. Always her father mentioned keeping calm, no matter how dangerous things seemed. By following his advice, she would be able to think clearly and look for a chance to escape.
    Swallowing was dry and difficult, and she had to remind herself that the material in her mouth wouldn’t make her choke.
    Although her captor wouldn’t be able to tell if she did.
    Smothered under the blanket, she could hear the muffled sounds of the outside world, the distant rattle of carriages on the city streets, and faint strains of music. Her mystery man carried her easily, powerfully. She flashed back to the scary feeling of his hand on her thigh. He was right—he could do anything he wanted with her. She couldn’t believe that included keeping her alive.
    Above her, in a soft voice, her captor called, “Are you ready?”
    Did he expect her to answer?
    â€œReady!” came a distant call from below.
    Her captor hoisted her aloft, away from his body. For a terrifying moment, she knew she was being dangled off the balcony, felt her body sway and a breeze catch at the blanket.
    And then he let her go, and she was plummeting. She shrieked through the gag, but before she could even say her prayers, she was caught in the arms of a man who grunted but didn’t even stagger with her weight.
    â€œYou’re safe,” he said softly, in a kinder voice.
    She felt her consciousness start to drift away and saw bright pricks of spots in the blackness behind her closed eyes—but she refused to give in to the peace of fainting. She might miss