Surrender To A Scoundrel by Julianne MacLean Read Free Book Online Page B

in a bit of a besotted daze, “which is why I must warn you not to become overconfident even if you do have the fastest boat in the world. Lord Martin is reputed to be a great helmsman.”
    The two gentlemen chuckled at her opinion.
    “My dear wife,” Lord Radley said, “you’ve let that man’s notoriety deprive you of your common sense.”
    “That’s right,” Lord Breckinridge added. “My first mate, Mr. Sheldon Hatfield, was acquainted with Lord Martin at Eton and knows the truth about him. He was a useless chump then—reckless and irresponsible—and nothing has changed. He has merely been lucky in the races the past two years because he has not had a worthy opponent.”
    But after seeing Martin again today and knowing what she knew of him, Evelyn had to agree with Lady Radley. It was difficult to imagine anyone besting him on the water, or anywhere else for that matter. He was powerful and unstoppable, and from her vantage point, he was the force to be reckoned with. Especially when it came to that infuriatingly stubborn spark of desire in her heart, which simply would not die, no matter how hard or how long she tried to snuff it out.
     
    That evening, Evelyn spent far too much time and thought on her gown for the ball. She restyled her hair three times, changed her shoestwice, deciding quite positively that she looked hideous in blue.
    In the end, she had no choice but to wear the blue disaster because the only other choice was the pink disaster, and there was absolutely no chance on earth she would be caught dead in such a frilly costume to night, for she did not wish to attract such attention to herself.
    Oh, she really did not enjoy balls, and to night was worse because she was going to dance with Martin. Martin! Perhaps it wouldn’t even come to that. He might forget or change his mind. She should expect it, for he had always forgotten her in the past. She considered how she would feel if he did. She would not be disappointed. No. If she had any sense left in her head, she would be relieved.
    Finally, when it was time to go, she left her room in the Royal Marine Hotel and ventured out into the corridor. She had just turned to lock her door behind her when she heard another door click open across the hall.
    A notable few seconds of silence ensued before she heard a man speak. “What a delightful coincidence.”
    Startled by the familiar voice, she turned around to find herself gazing upon Martin, of all people, standing in his own open doorway, his hand still upon the knob. He wore formal evening attire—a black suit with a white waistcoat and bow tie made of the finest silk money couldbuy. His hair was thick and shiny black like wicked midnight, falling in attractive waves to his broad shoulders. His blue eyes were heavy-lidded and openly sensual.
    Evelyn strove to maintain at least an appearance of calm by tilting her head slightly and letting out a cool, dejected sigh. “Delightful coincidence indeed.”
    She hoped he caught the sarcasm in her tone.
    He slowly closed the door to his room, locked it, then faced her elegantly. “Are you following me, Mrs. Wheaton?”
    She squared her shoulders. “I was about to ask you the same question, right after I boxed your ears for what you did to me today.”
    He chuckled, and his blue eyes sparkled like starlight. “You should have boxed them. Lord knows I deserved it. I was an absolute scoundrel.”
    They regarded each other for a moment, then Martin pushed away from his door and approached. He sauntered toward her, then stopped mere inches away, forcing her to back up against her own door.
    He leaned closer and rested an arm against the lintel over her head, while she struggled to subdue the fiery sensation heating her blood. She was not accustomed to this. Men did not do this sort of thing with her. And it was Martin. Martin!
    “I admit,” he said, “that for a moment this afternoon, I thought you might have forgotten ouracquaintance, but then I