Charming the Devil by Lois Greiman Read Free Book Online

open-necked tunic and dark tartan. It crossed at his shoulder, was pinned in place with the miniature sword that passed through his pewter brooch and belted snugly about his waist, but she dared not look lower. Indeed, she dare not speak, for he looked too formidable. Too large and powerful and angry. But she had made a vow to Madeline. And that she would keep.
    “Good morning,” she said, though even those simple words were all but impossible to force from her lips, for he was staring at her with those grim-reaper eyes, the left of which was rimed in magenta turning to puce. “Mr. McBain, isn’t it?”
    His brows lowered even farther, though she would have sworn they could not.
    Faerie Faye tightened her grip on the little paper-wrapped item in her hand and tried not to vomit.She would do what she must. Would keep her secrets while ferreting out others’. For her cover. For the sisters of her heart.
    “Who is it?” someone called, then the door opened farther, and another man stepped into view.
    It was then that Faye tried to turn and run, but her legs refused to do her bidding. Refused to do so much as budge.
    “Good God, McBain,” said the smaller fellow, and banged his companion on the back with a hearty whack. “Look who we’ve got here. Lady…” He turned to her expectantly, but her breath was caught fast in her throat, and she was wrong about her legs. They were moving, trembling like chimes in a windstorm. “Lady…” He canted his head a little and tried again.
    “Mrs., ” she corrected, and raised her brows in haughty challenge as she’d seen others do.
    “Ahh well…” He shrugged, grinned, as charming as a serpent. “I’ve no prejudices, Mrs….”
    It took everything she had to remember her supposed name. “Nettles.”
    “Mrs. Nettles. How very nice to meet you. I’m Thayer Connelly, and this is…Well…” he chuckled. “I believe the two of you became acquainted last night. Did you not?” he asked, and glanced from one to the other.
    Faye could feel his attention shift from her to the giant, but she dare not turn her own gaze from the brooding Scotsman. She’d wounded him, injuredhim, a seasoned warrior, a celebrated soldier. Until this moment, she’d not thought of the humiliation that might cause him.
    “Oh, where are my manners?” Connelly asked. “’Tis all but a crime to leave such beauty languishing on our doorstep, is it not, McBain?”
    The giant remained mute.
    “Please, Mrs. Nettles…” Connelly straightened. “We were just about to…have some tea,” he said, and skipped his merry gaze to his companion as if they shared some jolly secret that had nothing to do with tea at all. “Won’t you join us?” he asked, and motioned toward the interior of their home.
    The ironbound door yawned like a dark maw ready to devour her.
    “I just stopped by for a moment,” she said, and managed to keep from leaping into the surrounding topiary.
    “Then we must surely enjoy every moment with you even more,” Connelly said, and reached for her hand.
    She remembered to breathe though it was a close thing.
    The Scotsman turned his attention to his friend, brows lowering still farther.
    “Well…” said the Irishman, and, raising her hand, pressed a slow kiss to her knuckles. It was all she could do to refrain from launching herself from the stoop and bolting for the carriage Joseph kept waiting by the curb. “Tell us, please…” He straightened, then cupped her palm with his own.It felt large and cool, like manacles against her skin. The Scotsman was standing perfectly still, staring at their hands. Just as Lucifer had watched from the darkness of her window, silent, looming, waiting until she could tolerate no more. Until she fled the house and Tenning’s toxic care. “To what do we owe this unusual pleasure?”
    She searched for her voice, but memories were crowding in, crushing her larynx.
    “Perhaps you had some unfinished business with the oversized Scotsman here.