Read Online Devil in My Arms by Samantha Kane - Free Book Online Page A

least that’s what she’d been overhearing all night. The walls were painted a muted pink and the marble columns near the entry doors had just a tinge of pink hidden in the creamy stone. There were plaster angels, gilded to gleam in the candlelight, adorning the four corners of the ceiling. The chandeliers were quite the largest Eleanor had ever seen. She was a little afraid of dancing under them, actually.
    “I feel as if I stepped into a nightmarish bordello,” a bored voice said from behind her, “every time I enter Lady Carrey’s ballroom.”
    Eleanor swallowed a gasp, but she was sure her surprise had still been obvious to Sir Hilary. Had he been observing her from some hidden corner? There were large potted palms all over. Had he seen her looking for him? How humiliating. “Do you? I’m afraid I have no experience for comparison when it comes to bordellos.”
    “No? That’s a shame. Although it is not my favorite decorating scheme by any means.”
    “I’m afraid you’ve once again touched upon an improper topic of conversation,” she told him, annoyed. Was he determined to ruin her reputation before she’d actually had time to build one? Or was he merely trying to aggravate her? He seemed to enjoy doing that.
    “Again?” He sounded as exasperated as she felt. With a sigh he walked up to stand next to her and bowed slightly in her direction. “Mrs. Fairchild,” he said in abelated greeting.
    She bowed her head slightly in response, but refused to look directly at him. “Sir Hilary.” Very polite, as if they had not parted on ill terms the last time. She could feel her jaw clenching.
    “Ah,” he said. “I see that you are still annoyed with me. You shall have to get over that.”
    “I shall have to—,” she said, cutting off her incredulous response. “Good evening, Sir Hilary,” she said coolly, taking a step away from him. Why had she longed to see him again?
    He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Don’t be a silly female. I gave you more credit than that. Surely you can see that we must indulge this obsession with one another and then we can move on.”
    She said nothing as she started counting slowly to one hundred in her head, lest she show her temper again. Obsession? He had an odd way of showing it. And when had fascination turned to obsession?
    “Have you nothing to say? Surely this must be a remarkable occasion.” His sly wink made her lose count.
    “I am not obsessed with you,” she said dismissively, hoping desperately that it sounded more sincere to him than it did to her. “You are the one who seeks me out. You said so yourself.”
    “If we’re keeping score, you sought me out at Lady Gaston’s.”
    “Only after you came to the party expressly to see me. Which you admitted,” she hastily added.
    “Touché. We will stop keeping score now.”
    She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “I will keep score if it suits me. You are duly warned.”
    “Women rarely give warnings, so I appreciate your effort,” he said. “You look lovely, by the way.”
    His compliment was offhand, and when she glanced over at him he was looking across the room at something else. “Do I? Then, without looking, describe my attire.” She knew very well he’d barely looked at her. Mrs. Waylan, a very comely widow with thebody of Venus, was staring hungrily at him from across the room. She was shameless. Surely he had hardly noticed Eleanor with the widow’s bounteous charms on display.
    He started to turn his head and she ducked behind him, embarrassed at her challenge. “I said without looking.”
    He huffed out a small laugh. “You do me a disservice. All right. You are wearing a very attractive frock in a modest lavender, which suits you, by the way. It brings out the pink in your cheeks and makes your eyes look exceptionally bright. The décolletage, however, is anything but modest. I find I am charmed by your … charms.” Her hand flew up to cover her exposed bosom in