Seductive Wager by Leigh Greenwood Read Free Book Online Page A

she remembered how he knocked Martin down, the pleasure any woman feels when two men, any two men, fight over her. It made her feel beautiful in a way her mirror never could, and even the memory of the driving cloak held tightly around her nearly nude body could not rob the moment of its satisfaction.
    A lock of Brett’s hair fell across his forehead, and she had to resist an impulse to reach out and brush it back with her fingers. She trembled with excitement at the thought of actually touching him—the anticipation was delicious, but she was terrified of what would happen if he woke up. He was quiet now, but there was a kind of ferocious energy about him that frightened her a little, an energy that could reach out and ensnare anyone within its reach, and energy which could draw its victims into a maelstrom far beyond their understanding. Leaving Ryehill had already taken Kate beyond her experience, and she wanted to consider her next step carefully.
    She scrutinized Brett more closely, admitted to a tug of attraction which seemed to grow stronger with every passing hour, and became aware of the feeling that with such a man at her side, things could never be very wrong. But almost at once she closed her eyes and laid her head back on the cushions trying to stave off the tears that threatened to overwhelm her once again. He was not her man, and he was not standing by her side.
    Martin charged back into the library, his mind consumed with hatred for everyone who had helped bring about his disgrace. He ground his teeth in rage when he remembered Edward’s snide and belittling remarks and how that damned puppy Feathers had turned on him in his own house; however, it was on Kate and Brett’s shoulders that Martin placed the blame for his whirlwind of troubles, and he intended to take his revenge in the most ruthless manner he could devise.
    He could easily deal with Kate once he had her back at the castle. She was probably looking at Brett with sheep’s eyes right now, thinking he would protect her. The slut! It would give him great pleasure to destroy that illusion.
    He would have to kill Brett. He knew he couldn’t do it in a fair fight, but he wasn’t going to be held back by some outmoded code of chivalry; he would kill him if he had to stab him in the back.
    But first he had to do something about Kate, and just getting her back wasn’t enough; there must be some way to do it that would discredit Brett. In his frustration he uttered a loud oath, and his spaniel, once again lying near his chair and thinking he was talking to her, lifted her head. When Martin continued to pace, she settled her head back on her paws, but her eyes followed him as he moved erratically about the room.
    By now Martin had drunk so much brandy his head felt like a lead weight and his thoughts refused to come into focus without a tremendous effort of will. He leaned his head against the cool marble of the fireplace hoping it would help to clear his mind. He stood quietly for so long the dog forsook her vigil and closed her eyes.
    Suddenly Martin’s head jerked upright, and his eyes focused intently as his mind worked frantically to grasp the elusive idea before it could slip away. Tenaciously he held on, becoming more and more alert as the plan took shape in his fevered brain.
    “I’ve got the goddamned bastard at last!” Martin laughed wildly, and tossed off the last of the brandy. Now he could rest; there would be time enough later. In fact, it would be better if they were farther along the road, better still if they had spent the night at some inn.
    The spaniel had come to her feet at Martin’s shout, teeth bared and hackles raised. She quieted down when she found no one else in the room but remained on the alert. Something in his laughter triggered a primitive instinct deep within her brain; there was danger in that room, an evil she could not trust. She left by the open window, and from that moment she would not come into his presence