The Duchess and the Spy Read Free Page A

distract tactic. I think I like your style, Mademoiselle.” He moved toward her. She backed away.
    He closed in on her. Despite her attempts to affect him with her talents, she continued to fail. Damnation. What form of protection cloaked him from her magic?
    His breath smelt of chocolate. She drew in a sharp breath. Why was the lighting in the corridors so dim? She needed to see him. But even if the lighting were better, she still would not be able to see him fully. As he drew near, she finally noticed the sparkly emerald green mask he wore. He matched her in every way. Wit for wit, and barb for barb.
    “You needn’t fear, Mademoiselle. I have no intentions of ravishing you. I am sure we shall meet again, and when we do, I shall ravish you.” His last two words seemed like a promise to her, and it made her blood warm. She would love to be taken by a man like him. Passion and emotion the likes of which she never encountered, boiled beneath the carefully erected stone cold armour he wore.
    “More’s the pity….I rather think I would be delighted to have a man like you ravish me tonight,” she whispered, shocking him with her scandalous retort. “If you don’t take care…my Uncle Pierre might discover you. He shall have your head in a basket if he does.”
    “Why do you call him uncle?”
    “I call him Uncle because he is related to me. He is a bastard. Both in name, and accident of birth.”
    “Damnation. You’re actually related to that bloody prick? I pity you, Duchess.”
    “I ask again. Who the bloody hell, are you, sir?”
    “Ah, naughty, naughty. A lady of your fine breeding shouldn’t swear. It makes you sound like a common tart. But then, I imagine you and the common tart share a lot of things in common.” His galling insinuation hit her like a cannonball in the stomach. How dare he insinuate that her honour had been sullied in such a damning way?
    “You, Monsieur, may go straight to hell.” He bore down upon her, and made her inch away from him until she was pressed against the wall. Somehow he had gained the advantage, and now looked down at her in the way a hungry wolf most likely perused their prey. Why hadn’t Daphne heard the ruckus and come to investigate?
    “I am someone you only need to know as The Wolf.”
    His admission made another jolt roll through her. He truly was her wolf. His breath made her cheeks tingle, and she every ounce of willpower she possessed to stop herself from throwing herself into his arms. Oh, how she would love to be held by a man such as he.
    “I can help you get back to England.”
    She shook her head. Here he was speaking perfect French, and he wanted to entice her with promises of whisking her back to England? He was so full of it—unless…
    “I shall have to decline. Respectfully, of course.”
    He sighed. Planting hands on either side of her, he closed in. She sighed. She couldn’t take this much longer. She would submit if he pressed much harder. Never in her life had a man bewitched her so completely. “You are quite stubborn, even more so, than what I’ve been told by a few trustworthy sources. But then, I do so love a challenge.” His dark blue eyes sparkled. His eyes captured the full allure of his soul. If they truly were the gateway to the soul, she had nothing to fear from this man. However, he was an obstacle that needed to be overcome, posthaste.
    “I tire of you. I want to go down to the ballroom.”
    “I don’t want to let you go, Duchess.”
    “You must,” she said, inwardly begging him to kiss her. She knew that heaven would be in his kiss, and she desperately wanted it.
    “And I am quite certain your other virtues are above reproach.”
    “I will have no more of your tiresome games, Monsieur.” She reached to plant her hands on his chest, and prepared to defend herself from his advances. She had never allowed a man this near to her before…but she had to admit…she was inexplicably drawn to him. She couldn’t really place her