The Dark One Read Free

alone that you are dancing with me, I as sureyou, is shock enough for those present this evening.” When his comment didn’t seem to satisfy her, he asked, “Would you have me ravish you?”
    Her raven brows, perfectly set upon her forehead, furrowed. She pressed her lips together as if in consideration. “I had hoped to avoid such drastic measures but now realize that might indeed become necessary. Could you? I mean, would you mind terribly?”
    He nearly missed a step.
Would he mind?
Was the young lady daft? No, she wasn’t daft? No, she wasn’t daft; her lovely eyes sparkled with intelligence.
    â€œWhat game are you playing, Lady Rosalind?”
    Rather than answer, she scanned the crowd. He naturally did likewise, his gaze falling upon a group of young debutantes staring at them, their faces flushed with obvious excitement over seeing him dance. Was her earlier approach some sort of bet among friends? A dare? Had she decided to make her debut into society on a grand scale?
    Perhaps she simply wanted notice—a night that would set her apart from every other beautiful, eligible young lady who’d come for a season in London.
    â€œMy wishes are most sincere, Lord Wulf,” she said, her gaze returning to him. “I am very disappointed in your good manners thus far this evening. Your reputation falls short of my expectations. If you have no desire to assist me, perhaps I should find someone who will.”
    His infatuation diminished somewhat. Armond had spent the past ten years being the brunt of society’s jokes. He didn’t mind being feared or whispered about, but he wouldn’t be made to look the fool. When the lady started to pull away, as if she meant to leave him standing alone like a throwaway, he jerked her up flush against him.
    â€œIf it’s compromised you want, you’ve come to theright man,” he assured her. “And I promise that you won’t be disappointed. There’s nothing short about me, Lady Rosalind.”
    He steered her toward the edge of the dance floor, plans of where they could find privacy uppermost on his mind. Lady Rosalind had foolishly fired his ardor. She had thrown down a gauntlet, and if she wanted something to giggle about with her silly friends, he’d damn sure give it to her.

Chapter Two
    Lord Wulf led her through two side doors left open to allow the night air into the stuffy ballroom. Dazed by her own daring, Rosalind followed him past a small garden and out to the street, where carriages sat lined and waiting for their occupants to return from the ball. Her heart pounded so loud and fast she thought it might leap from her chest. Despite her bold actions, her knees shook. She was desperate, and desperation could often be disguised as bravery.
    When Rosalind had first spotted Armond Wulf among the guests at the Greenleys’ ball, she imagined her mouth might have dropped open and drool might have dribbled down her chin. She’d never seen a more handsome man. He was tall but lean, like a great hunting cat. His hair brushed the shoulders of his finely cut coat and was a rich golden color, reminding her of her home in the country, of wheat ripening in the fields. His eyes were blue—dark, turbulent like the sky during a thunderstorm.
    His face was finely etched, his jaw strong and square. His mouth could only be described as disturbing, his lips neither too full nor too thin but sensually shaped. His brows and lashes were surprisingly dark for a man with his blond coloring, and his skin was tawny colored, as if he spent a great deal of time out-of-doors. Whenhe’d arrived at the Greenleys’, every woman in the ballroom had turned to admire him. . . . Then the whispers began.
    Once she’d learned his name, Rosalind realized he was the neighbor her stepbrother, Franklin, had warned to stay clear of. Wulf had been missing since her arrival in London, but his return tonight couldn’t have