Read Online Corbin's Fancy by Linda Lael Miller - Free Book Online

was almost fooled, almostlulled into believing that he really had her best interests in mind. “I’m trying to tell you that—”
    “Don’t tell me anything! I’m not interested in being placated!”
    “Do you think I’m that pompous, that arrogant?”
    “Yes!”
    A muscle flexed in his jaw, then stilled. “Fancy, we can’t stay here,” he went on persistently. “Not after what’s happened.”
    Fancy had already come to that conclusion herself, but it was surprising to hear it from Jeff. “I completely agree,” she said, in stiff tones, wishing that she had the nerve and the strength to break free of his grasp and walk away.
    “Good. Then perhaps you’ll also agree that there is a magic between us that has nothing to do with your pulling rabbits out of hats.”
    Fancy stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Magic?”
    “I’ve never before felt the way I did with you, Fancy. Not ever.” He sighed and his grip on her shoulders eased a little. “Will you go away with me?”
    The idea had more appeal than Fancy would ever admit. “And do what?”
    “And be my mistress.”
    Any dreams that might have been stirring to life were instantly dashed. Of course he would suggest that, after the way she’d encouraged him. That was no surprise. And yet, after only one day, she’d dared to hope that Jeff was beginning to love her.
    She lifted her hand and slapped him with all the force of her grief, her confusion, and her shame. He was stunned enough to slacken his hold and Fancy whirled away to run, her skirts bunched in her fingers.
    Certain that she could not bear to face Amelie or Keith or the understanding Alva, Fancy avoided the house and plunged into the orchard. Her breathing was ragged and raw, dry little sobs tore themselves from her throat as she fled.
    “Frances!” bellowed Jeff, and she heard him behind her, gaining fast.
    She tried to accelerate her own pace, caught one foot in the hem of her dress, and went tumbling to the soft, blossom-cushioned ground. Jeff was upon her instantly, wrenching her onto her back and then pinning her beneath his delightful, reprehensible, inescapable weight.
    “What the hell is the matter with you?” he demanded, looking fierce in the gathering twilight.
    Fancy could not form sensible words; she wailed with grief and writhed, trying to free herself. The frantic sobs continued to well up from within her.
    Jeff caught her face between both his hands and stayed the motion of her head, though her body still rebelled beneath his. “Stop it!” he hissed.
    Something in the tone of his voice reached Fancy’s reason and she was still, though tears were streaming down her face and her chest was still heaving. “Get—off of—me!” she choked out.
    “Not until you listen to me, damn you! I wasn’t trying to insult you when I asked you to be my mistress!”
    “Well, it’s an honor I can do without!” croaked Fancy.
    “What the devil do you want from me?” he retorted furiously. “Marriage?”
    “I wouldn’t marry you!”
    One of his imperious eyebrows arched in contemptuous disbelief. “Oh, no?”
    “No!”
    He looked oddly pensive. Even reflective. “It would solve a few problems,” he mused.
    “Not for me it wouldn’t!”
    Jeff held Fancy firmly beneath him, quelling any possibility of struggle. “Wouldn’t it? Think, Fancy—you wouldn’t have to haul that rodent from one town to another. And, of course, things would be very different for your family—”
    Fancy’s eyes widened and though Jeff stretched her arms out above her head and pressed them to the soft ground, she did not resist. “What do you mean?”
    “You know very well what I mean.”
    Fancy dared to imagine her mother and father freed from the ceaseless drudgery of their lives and her throat constricted. “Y–You would take care of them?”
    “Yes. And you.” He chuckled. “And even your fat, stupid rabbit.”
    Fancy’s wrists were caught together, in just one of Jeff’s hands, and