The Wicked One by Suzanne Enoch Read Free Book Online

wondrous things to her bosom, Diane nodded. “A short stroll. Away from here. I don’t want Mr. Brunn seeing us.”
    He offered his arm. Whether she realized it or not, Diane was learning some things about deception, and about survival. Perhaps he was aiding her a little, after all.

    Diane lifted up on one elbow, reaching out with her free hand to brush a strand of rich, mahogany hair from the temple of the man sleeping beside her. How odd, that the worst fortnight of her life had been immediately followed by the best fortnight of her life. And the only thing to differentiate the two portions was Oliver Warren.
    He likely saw a similarity between them—two English aristocrats, trapped in Vienna because of a lack of funds. Her interpretation was rather different, but at the moment all that mattered was the fact that she was no longer alone. And she’d begun to realize that she’d been alone not since Frederick’s death, but since her marriage to him. The price, she supposed, for marrying according to the dictates of a contract rather than her heart.
    It wasn’t just the frequent, toe-curling sex. Oliver spoke to her, and listened to her when she talked about nonsense. Even when she talked, endlessly, about Frederick and her current woes. She could barely stand hearing it herself, and yet there he was, a warm, solid, enticing presence that had appeared just when she’d been ready to give up hope.
    Even though she knew it was childish, something worthy of a young girl who still believed in faerie magic and dandelion wishes, in the night like this, with his hand wrapped into the material of her night rail, she couldn’t help wondering. Was this—he—her reward? Her…compensation for doing what was expected of her, for standing by Frederick even when she would much rather have fled? Had she passed some sort of test, and now she was worthy of being loved? Of falling in love?
    Love . Such a small word, and yet the key to opening vast expanses of the world. The things no one could touch, but everyone craved. Long eyelashes fluttered and opened, gray eyes almost black in the filtered moonlight focusing on her.
    “Hello,” he muttered, a faint smile touching his sensuous mouth.
    “Hello.”
    “Is something amiss?”
    “No. I was merely pondering.” She lowered her head onto the cushion of her arm. “If we simply ran away from Vienna, what would the penalty be?”
    His low chuckle rumbled into her chest. “I doubt any debts accrued in Austria would follow us to England. There is the problem of English debts, however.”
    “Yes, but Spain is very pleasant this time of year, isn’t it? I just received a letter from my dear friend Jenny. She’s been living in Spain for the past few months.” The fact that she’d received any news at all of Genevieve Martine after five years of silence seemed significant. The timing of it only added to the feeling that she’d somehow managed to step into the sunlight after two years of clouds and rain.
    Oliver rolled onto his side, propping up his head in a mirror to her own position. “Would you flee to Spain with me, Diane?”
    “I would flee anywhere with you, I think. As long as I could burn any black clothing I own.”
    “But you look so delicious in black. I don’t think you have any idea how much power a woman in black holds over any man. Especially when she looks as exquisite you do.” Leaning forward, he kissed her softly and slowly. “Of course you look equally enticing out of any clothes at all.”
    “Is that why you’re still here?” she asked when she could breathe again, deciding belatedly that questioning miracles was a very bad idea. “Sex?”
    “Hm. A lovely young woman, a fellow countryman in a foreign country, someone who doesn’t look down on me for being the scoundrel that I am, someone who laughs at my jests. And I can’t forget that when faced with odds that would crush most people, she’s found a way both to survive and to begin thinking beyond