The Duelist's Seduction Read Free

She nodded, relieved to know it helped mask the way her entire body shook with a new wave of fear. She’d never imagined facing death like this, especially not at the hands of a man she desired. Fate was cruel. “Let us finish this.” She turned her back to Gareth and waited.
    He closed the distance between them and put his back up against hers. She shivered at the sudden warmth of his body against hers, his backside pressed ever so lightly against her lower back. His clothing whispered against hers, like a strange sort of dance, and then Gareth moved away as Mr. Worthing began to count. She began to mark the paces as well, trying to ignore the roaring of blood in her ears and the realization that each step brought her that much closer to her death.
    When Mr. Worthing called out to halt Helen and Gareth at thirty paces, they turned to face each other. The velvet skies were paler now, as though the stars had blinked, closing their celestial eyes to miss the grisly scene about to unfold below. Helen saw Gareth turn sideways and raise his arm. She copied the movement, aiming her pistol at Gareth’s chest. The pale moonlight glinted off the gun in his hand as he trained it on her chest. Her entire body started to shake as instinctive fear took over. There was a pistol pointed at her heart. Her hand trembled, the barrel of her own gun wavering. She wouldn’t shoot him, there was no doubt of that.
    “One,” Worthing called out. “Two…”
    Helen’s eyes shot up from Gareth’s pistol to his face. He was far enough away to appear more a shadow dressed in black with glowing eyes than the man she’d longed to share the secrets of her heart with.
    “Three—”
    Her finger clenched around the trigger and she fired without meaning to. Her shot went wide, grazing Gareth’s shoulder. He flinched but did not fire. Blood sprayed along his shirt, nearly black in the distance. She gasped and sucked in a violent breath, her vision spinning momentarily.
    Horrified she had actually hit him, she dropped her pistol and it landed with a thunk in the grass. She ran over to him, reaching out to check the damage.
    His dark eyes flashed in surprise as she clutched his arm and examined the wound.
    “Oh Good Heavens!” she cried. “The one time I fire one of these stupid things…”
    By the time she realized her higher feminine tone had betrayed her, Gareth, in one swift motion, had dropped his own pistol and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her against him. He ripped the mask from her face. Her pins sprung loose from the rough movement, releasing the bound up hair. The loose waves dropped down against her shoulders, the soft strands caressing her cheeks as she ducked her head, hiding her face from him. Gareth’s look of rage turned to sheer astonishment.
    “Where is Martin Banks?” His voice was rough and low. “And who the devil are you?”
    His grip was too strong and Helen started to lose feeling in her arm. “Please, you’re hurting me,” she gasped.
    Her plea went ignored. He didn’t release his hold on her, but he lightened his hold so it was no longer bruising.
    “Where is Banks?” He shook her and shouted angrily.
    “Unconscious, in our lodgings.” Helen tried to break free, but his iron grip held her fast. “I could not let you kill him.” His eyes sharpened at her defiance.
    Worthing and Bennett ran towards them.
    “A woman?” Worthing called out in surprise. “Really, Fairfax…you should have told me,” When Worthing strode over to her and Gareth, his eyes shifted between them as they stood locked together by Gareth’s vice-like grip.
    “Let go of her, Fairfax,” Worthing slowly reached out and pried her loose from Gareth’s arms.
    Gareth batted Worthing’s protective arm aside and gripped her by the shoulders, rattling her. “Who are you?” he snarled, his white, even teeth shining in the dim light. “Why are you here in Banks’s place?”
    “Let go of her,” Bennett growled and moved a step