The Widow's Auction by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online

woman?”
    â€œI. . . um. . . that is–”
    â€œAnd why is it any worse for a woman to prevent conception than for a man to go about doing the conceiving willy-nilly?”
    â€œNow see here–”
    â€œYou ought to be ashamed of yourself!” Her dander was fully up now. “Do you want a lot of your little bastards running about?”
    He blinked at her, then burst into laughter. “No, indeed I don’t. How good of you to consider that. It hadn’t entered my thoughts in the least.”
    â€œWell, it should have,” she scolded.
    â€œYou’re quite right,” he choked out, clearly trying to repress any further laughter.
    His amusement annoyed her. “And if that didn’t worry you, then what did you mean by all that nonsense about a reckoning? Did you think I’d steal from you tonight? Or blackmail you. . . or. . . or something degenerate like that?”
    He cast her a glance of mock solemnity. “No, certainly nothing degenerate.”
    â€œThen what?”
    Mischief glinted in his eyes. Leaning forward suddenly, he caught her hands in his. “The reckoning I fear is that one night with you won’t be enough for me. That I’ll want you time and again. And that you’ll make me pay for that need very dearly in the long run.”

4
    Justin relished the expression of panic that crossed “Bella’s” face. It was about bloody time she realized the possible ramifications of her actions.
    Good God, he’d nearly taken her right here in the carriage! And that had not been his intention. He’d meant only to draw her out. By playing along, he’d hoped to coax her into revealing her reasons for doing this. Then he could unmask her, give her a stern lecture, and take her home. After which, her gratitude at his discretion would make her moderate her opposition to him on the governing board.
    That had been the plan. . . until she’d looked up at him with that strange, yearning expression. Next thing he knew he was spouting all that nonsense about wine and bending to kiss her sweet, lush lips. . . 
    And enduring a lecture about preventing conception. From her of all people!
    He groaned. She was tying him in knots, this enchanting creature who’d taken over Lady Kingsley–the one with the sense of humor and the tempting mouth. He was having trouble remembering who she really was, for God’s sake.
    The enchanting creature finally found her voice. “One night must be enough for you,” she said fiercely. “It simply must. After this is over, it’s over. We can’t meet or see each other again.”
    â€œI don’t see why not.” If he pressed hard enough, she might admit the truth. “I’m not married. And unless you entered that auction under false pretenses, you’re not married either. So if we take pleasure in each other’s company and want to spend time together–”
    â€œI’m not that kind of woman!”
    â€œYou mean the kind to share a stranger’s bed without knowing his background or his character?”
    She drew her hands from his. “I mean. . . the kind to be a man’s mistress.”
    Ah, now he was getting somewhere. “Your actions speak otherwise. Clearly you’re looking for a protector or you wouldn’t be here.”
    â€œNo! That’s not why I did it at all!” Her pretty eyes flashed at him through the slits of the mask.
    He found her ridiculous moral outrage highly comical. “I can’t imagine what other reason you’d have.”
    Glancing away, she gnawed on her lower lip as if considering telling him more. Finally she sighed. “It’s merely that. . . I’m testing the waters, that’s all. I’m not quite ready to marry again, and I want to see if I can even bear to be with another man.”
    That possibility