Read Online Devil's Bride by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page A

behind
him.
    Honoria swallowed her protest; she'd rather go with
him than cool her heels in the stable yard, a prey to his grooms' curiosity.
Gloom, filled with the familiar smells of hay and horses, engulfed her.
"Why can't your grooms brush him down?"
    "They're too frightened of him—only old Melton
can handle him."
    Honoria looked at Sulieman—the horse looked steadily
back.
    His master stopped before a large stall. Released,
Honoria leaned against the stall door. Arms crossed, she pondered her
predicament while watching her captor—she was increasingly certain that was a
more accurate description of him—rub down his fearsome steed.
    Muscles bunched and relaxed; the sight was positively
mesmerizing. He'd told her to get used to it; she doubted she ever could. He
bent, then fluidly straightened and shifted to the horse's other side; his
chest came into view. Honoria drew in a slow breath—then he caught her eye.
    For one instant, their gazes held—then Honoria looked
away, first at the tack hanging along the stable wall, then up at the rafters,
inwardly berating herself for her reaction, simultaneously wishing she had a
fan to hand.
    It was never wise to tangle with autocrats, but, given
she had no choice, she needed to remember that it was positively fatal to
acknowledge he had any power over her.
    Determined to hold her own, she ordered her mind to
business. If he believed honor demanded he marry her, she'd need to try a
different tack. She frowned. "I do not see that it's fair that, purely
because I was stranded by a storm and took shelter in the same cottage as you,
I should have to redirect my life. I am not a passive spectator waiting for the
next occurrence to happen—I have plans!"
    Devil glanced up. "Riding in the shadow of the
Great Sphinx?" He could just imagine her on a camel—along with a hovering
horde of Berber chieftains who looked remarkably like him and thought like him,
too.
    "Precisely. And I plan to explore the Ivory Coast
as well—another exciting place so I've heard."
    Barbary pirates and slave traders. Devil tossed aside
the currying brush and dusted his hands on his breeches. "You'll just have
to make do with becoming a Cynster—no one's ever suggested it's a mundane
existence."
    "I am not going to marry you."
    Her flashing eyes and the set of her chin declared her
Anstruther-Wetherby mind was made up; Devil knew he was going to seriously
enjoy every minute it took to make her change it. He walked toward her.
    Predictably, she backed not an inch, although he saw
her muscles lock against the impulse. Without breaking stride, he closed his
hands about her waist and lifted her, setting her down with her back against
the stall wall. With commendable restraint, he removed his hands, locking one
on the top of the half-closed door, bracing the other, palm flat, on the wall
by her shoulder.
    Caged, she glared at him; he tried not to notice how
her breasts rose as she drew in a deep breath. He spoke before she could.
"What have you got against the proposition?"
    Honoria kept her eyes locked on his—standing as he
was, her entire field of vision was filled with bare male. Once her heart had
ceased to thud quite so loudly, she raised her brows haughtily. "I have no
desire whatever to marry purely because of some antiquated social
stricture."
    "That's the sum of your objections?"
    "Well, there's Africa, of course."
    "Forget Africa. Is there any reason other than my
motives in offering for you that in your opinion constitutes an impediment to
our marriage?"
    His arrogance, his high-handedness, his unrelenting
authority—his chest. Honoria was tempted to start at the top of her list and
work her way down. But not one of her caveats posed any serious impediment to
their marriage. She searched his eyes for some clue as to her best answer,
fascinated anew by their remarkable clarity. They were like crystal clear pools
of pale green water, emotions, thoughts, flashing like quicksilver fish in
their