To Pleasure a Prince Read Free Page A

trouble now. Not only was the viscount probably a clever man, but a clever man with lots of knowledge at his fingertips. She brushed off that unsettling thought. He was a man, after all, and a bookish man at that, with little knowledge of society, current affairs…feminine wiles. Surely her usual charm and a flirtatious smile would suffice.
    If she could find the dratted fellow. The library appeared to be empty. She closed the door behind her more loudly than she’d meant to, and a rich baritone voice wafted down to her from the heavens.
    “I take it you got rid of Foxmoor’s sister.”
    She jerked, then glanced up to see a ledge directly over her head. Moving farther into the room, she turned around and found the Dragon himself. He was up on a little gallery that ran along the near side of the high-ceilinged room and contained even more bookshelves. His impressively broad back was to her as he took down a volume and opened it with almost paternal care.
    It was the only careful thing about him. Everything else was haphazard—the raggedly trimmed hair that fell un-fashionably below his collar, the dust-smeared fustian suit, and the scuffed boots.
    And he was huge. No wonder everyone believed the rumor that he was actually Prinny’s son. He certainly had Prinny’s height and large frame, but without the corpulence that plagued His Highness.
    The shaggy-haired giant returned his book to the shelf, then squatted to remove one lower down, giving her a view of his well-shaped behind and the impressive thigh muscles straining against the fabric of his ill-fitting trousers. Her mouth went dry. Even she could appreciate a fine male figure when she saw one.
    “Well?” he asked. “Did Foxmoor’s sister give you any trouble? I hear she’s the troublesome sort.”
    The words jerked her back to the matter at hand. “No more troublesome than the average lady put off by a rude gentleman.”
    He stiffened, then rose to face her, and she sucked in a breath.
    He was nothing like his rumored sire after all. For one thing, he wore an exceedingly unfashionable beard. His Highness would eat nails before he’d grow his whiskers that long. But the prince would certainly not mind having this man’s body. A pugilist’s meaty shoulders and burly chest tapered down to a surprisingly trim waist. Even his calves appeared to be well-turned, though his stockings…
    She blinked and looked again. His stockings didn’t match.
    “Are you finished yet?” he snapped.
    She jumped. “Finished what?”
    “Looking me over.”
    Drat it, she hadn’t meant to stare. She jerked her gaze up to his bushy beard. “You can’t blame me for being curious. Few people ever get to see Castlemaine, much less its owner.”
    “There’s a reason for that.” He turned his back on her to restore his book to the shelf. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”
    “I certainly will not. I wish to talk to you.”
    He removed another volume. “Like brother, like sister, I see. Can’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
    “Not when the ‘no’ comes without an explanation.”
    “I’m busy. That should be explanation enough.”
    “You’re not busy; you’re a coward.”
    He whirled to face her, his scowl raining dragonly fury down on her. “What did you call me?”
    Excellent, Regina—why not just slap his face with your glove?
    But drat the man, he’d really roused her temper. “A coward. You’re perfectly ready to slander my family to your sister, but heaven forbid you should state your objections to our faces.”
    A laugh echoed in the library. “You think you and your brother scare me?”
    Her annoyance increased. “Simon said you refused to speak with him.”
    “He knows perfectly well why I prefer to communicate through the Iversleys. And if he insists on continuing to corrupt my sister—”
    “Corrupt!” she protested. “My brother would never corrupt anyone!”
    “—I’ll be happy to meet with him in person.” Lord Draker fixed her with his hard