Too Sinful to Deny Read Free Page A

mantel. “Timothy was the lead on that mission, and he’s responsible enough to—”
    Ollie shrugged. “Smugglers aren’t responsible.”
    Evan’s fingers twitched at his side. “Ollie, could you please be serious for a moment? If I had a pistol handy, I’d shoot you just for prevaricating.”
    “There you go. Now you’re acting yourself again. Except for the ‘please.’” Ollie turned back to the sideboard. “Sure you don’t fancy another brandy?”
    Evan glared at him. “Red’s a useless corkbrain and always has been, but Timothy would’ve sent word if something went wrong.”
    “Then nothing went wrong. Just because you’re a few years older doesn’t mean you’ve got to mother the poor bastard. Perhaps the two of you are cut from the same cloth. Could be he’s shacked up with a few bits o’ fluff and is far too busy being naked to bother sending his brother love notes. He’ll be home when he’s had his fill.”
    Evan shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like Timothy at all. He’s irritatingly punctual, and you know it. Time’s running out. Ship has to be seaworthy again by Friday, or heads will roll. Timothy does not need trouble with the captain.”
    “They’ll be back.” Ollie downed another shot of brandy. “Like you said—your brother’s a responsible sort.”
    Evan’s eyes narrowed. For a fellow water rat, Ollie was far too cavalier about the disappearance of their ship and fellow crew. “If you know something, tell me. Now.”
    Ollie slammed his empty tumbler onto the sideboard. “I know you’re becoming well annoying, that’s what I know.”
    Their eyes locked for a long moment before Evan growled and turned toward the fire. He wished he’d taken that second brandy after all, just to have something to destroy. “We should’ve all gone together.”
    “It was a two-person job.”
    “Then I should’ve gone instead of that shit-for-brains Red.”
    “I believe Timothy asked you to do just that, but you were occupied with the bit o’ muslin you met on the last job.”
    “Just for one night.” Evan snatched his greatcoat from the arm of a wingback chair. He couldn’t imagine what had possessed Ollie to wed. Or the type of woman that would want him. Evan himself couldn’t handle the oaf ’s company for long stretches. The little blonde upstairs would soon regret whatever impulse had brought her so far from home . . . and wearing bejeweled Town finery into a den of smugglers. “That new guest of yours is certainly fancy. Hope she knows enough to lock her door.”
    “My house.” Ollie lifted his empty brandy glass. “Nothin’ locked to me.”
    At that, Evan stalked out of the study. Ollie could be so infuriating. Just because he’d been a member of the crew for several years—as opposed to Evan and Timothy’s mere six months—Ollie took great delight in treating the two of them like imbeciles.
    Irritatingly, the overgrown brute did have a point. Evan undoubtedly would’ve been late coming home if he’d been the one on the ship.
    But it wasn’t Evan on that ship. It was Timothy. Timothy, with the rule-following soul of a ledger-keeper. Timothy, who’d wanted to create charts and schedules for swabbing the deck and cleaning the privies, for Christ’s sake. If the captain said to dock by Monday, Timothy would’ve docked on Sunday morning.
    But he hadn’t.
    Evan let himself out of Moonseed Manor. Few stars lit the cloudy sky. He circled the perimeter of the house and crossed through the rock garden to the steep path plummeting down the sandy cliff to the beach below. Timothy would’ve—
    Wait. What was that? There, smudged between the shore and the horizon. A ship, the hull rocking with black waves, the sails fluttering with the ocean’s salty breath.
    Evan scrambled down the narrow trail, his sure feet keeping him from tumbling to his death even as the sharp rocks and brambles scratched at his boots and clothes.
    He leapt the last few feet and sprinted