Deceived by Nicola Cornick Read Free Book Online Page A

was intending to pay you," she admitted, "but I thought you had dismissed my suggestion."
    Marcus smiled again, with more genuine humor this time. "I am not so proud, I assure you. Besides, I thought that we had agreed that this is a business venture? We made a bargain."
    "So we did," Isabella said. She fumbled for the coins and pressed them into his hand. He tucked them away in his waistcoat pocket
    "And you must take your ring back," she added hastily, making to draw the gold signet ring from her finger where it had rested for such a short time.
    Marcus shook his head, taking her hand and holding the ring in place. "Keep it," he said. "Until we meet again."
    Isabella felt a pang of disquiet. "Will that happen?"
    "Assuredly."
    "But not until we are safely unwed."
    Marcus's smile deepened. "Of course."
    They stood looking at each other for a moment. Isabella felt strangely at a loss.
    "I suppose that I should go?" she said uncertainly.
    Marcus's voice took a mocking edge at her obvious discomfort. "I suppose that you should. It is, however, customary to kiss the bride on the wedding day."
    Isabella's nerves jumped. She took two steps backward until her skirt brushed the wooden upright of the front pew. This time when she withdrew from him, he followed her. She put out a hand to ward him off.
    "As you have reminded me, this is a business arrangement, sir, and that was not part of the bargain."
    Marcus smiled at her again. It was a lazy smile, full of intimate challenge. She was not sure whether he was doing this out of revenge or devilry or simply to amuse himself, but his proximity was enough to shatter her composure. She wanted to escape but she could not move.
    The jailer was becoming restive and fidgeting behind them, anxious to get his man back to the cells. Marcus ignored him. He took a single stride forward, caught Isabella's arm and drew her to him, bringing the tips of her breasts up against the rough material of his jacket. He bent his head. His grip tightened on her arm. Then he was kissing her.
    The pressure of his lips was no more than a whisper against hers. Even so, it was enough to cast Isabella back into the past, where the memory of his kiss had been locked away along with all the other tumbling images of passion. She had hidden those feelings from herself and from others for so long and now they were stirring, threatening to break out. So much for dust and ashes. Any tenderness there had been between them might be long gone, but the attraction still flared as hot as ever. It terrified her.
    She made a small, incoherent sound and tried to put some space between them, but suddenly Marcus's arms were about her and his mouth moved over hers with an expert thoroughness that stripped away every vestige of defense. The sensual heat washed through her, burning her up, scorching her to the tips of her toes.
    No one had ever kissed her the way Marcus had. Ernest had indulged in a few cursory embraces before getting down to the consummation of their marriage but his lovemaking had lacked any tenderness. In all honesty, it could hardly be dignified with the word lovemaking. A less appropriate description would be difficult to find.
    Ernest had not courted her; he had bought her. Bought her, taken what he wanted, tried to mold her to his tastes. And when she had proved less than satisfactory, he'd claimed that she had reneged on their bargain, and they had continued in a hollow sham of a marriage until he died. No indeed, there had been precious little romance and no true passion in Isabella's life. Until now.
    She trembled in Marcus's arms. The touch, taste and desire mingled as he kissed her, then released her a little only to reclaim her mouth once again. Isabella's body roused from what felt like a long sleep as she felt the hardness of him, his strength and control. Then it was all over and he let her go with an abruptness that plunged her back into darkness.
    The atmosphere between them was blistering. Marcus's face