did not want to make too much of a scene with so many foreign operatives present. His visitors hailed from the Habsburg court,
Naples,
Moscow—he had even seen the detestable, barrel-bellied, American double agent Rollo Greene in the crowd. Fortunately, Lucien specialized in hiding the truth in plain view. He had to get her alone, learn who she was, and find out who she was working for.
Certain that she was hiding a weapon of some kind beneath her robe, he stopped her from reaching for it by catching her wrists up roughly behind her back, clenching her against his body. The little hellcat fought him, squirming and twisting, bucking against his body.
“Let me go, I say!”
He let out a lusty laugh as her hip chafed his groin. “Mm, I like that,” he purred, holding her slender body against him.
“You, horrible—stop it!” she yelled. “You’re hurting me!”
“Good.” He lowered his face toward hers and looked into her eyes with a menacing glower. “Now, then, my beauty, why don’t you and I go somewhere private?”
She stopped fighting suddenly, her blue eyes widening, her lovely face going from flushed to pale.
Without warning, he lifted her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder, still gripping her wrists with one hand while he clapped the other firmly on her backside to hold her in place.
Her high-pitched shriek went unheard amid the lusty cheers of the people all around them as Lucien carried her off, barbarian-style, to his private observation room behind the glowing red eyes of the dragon.
His wide shoulder was as hard as iron under her stomach, and his whole body gave off angry heat like a furnace. If
Alice’s notion of reality had been skewed by the decadence of
Revell Court
, her wits were absolutely routed by being carried off by the demonic master of the place. The people clapping for Lucien Knight and cheering for him seemed to think that he had singled her out for one reason only.
Alice was terrified that they were right.
Her protests, threats, and begging went unheeded, drowned out by the throbbing music and drums. Her kicks and flailing punches when she finally wrenched her hands free had not the slightest effect on him. She even tried pulling his wavy black hair in her wild scramble to free herself, but it only brought his hand down on her backside in a hearty spank.
“How dare you?” she gasped, her body going rigid, her eyes smarting at the sting, though the blow hurt her pride more than her flesh.
“Quit pulling my hair or next time it’ll be your bare arse.”
At his crude threat, her courage blasted up in a geyser of fury and indignation. For a man who supposedly spoke seven languages, he was a master of the vulgar tongue! She did not think she had ever been so angry in her entire life. She felt helpless, hefted in his powerful arms, and she hated it—more specifically, she hated him. Oh, how she wished her brother were still alive! Phillip would have put a bullet in him if he could have seen this—first Caro, now her!
Nevertheless, as “Draco” stalked toward the great carved dragon, Alice stopped fighting temporarily, knowing she was overpowered physically and had best regroup before they arrived wherever he was taking her. She was going to need her wits about her if she had any hope of stopping the fiend from ravishing her.
A guard in a long black coat opened a door for him behind the dragon’s elbow. Lord Lucien strode through it. It closed behind them, muffling the echoing roar of the music and the crowd. She braced her hands on the curve of his lower back and tried to twist around to see ahead.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded in a shaky voice.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he replied in a nasty tone.
She winced at his mockery, bounced against his rock-hard body as he began marching up a narrow spiral staircase hewn into the stone. His stride was tireless. At the top of the steps, another guard opened yet another door for them.
Naples,
Moscow—he had even seen the detestable, barrel-bellied, American double agent Rollo Greene in the crowd. Fortunately, Lucien specialized in hiding the truth in plain view. He had to get her alone, learn who she was, and find out who she was working for.
Certain that she was hiding a weapon of some kind beneath her robe, he stopped her from reaching for it by catching her wrists up roughly behind her back, clenching her against his body. The little hellcat fought him, squirming and twisting, bucking against his body.
“Let me go, I say!”
He let out a lusty laugh as her hip chafed his groin. “Mm, I like that,” he purred, holding her slender body against him.
“You, horrible—stop it!” she yelled. “You’re hurting me!”
“Good.” He lowered his face toward hers and looked into her eyes with a menacing glower. “Now, then, my beauty, why don’t you and I go somewhere private?”
She stopped fighting suddenly, her blue eyes widening, her lovely face going from flushed to pale.
Without warning, he lifted her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder, still gripping her wrists with one hand while he clapped the other firmly on her backside to hold her in place.
Her high-pitched shriek went unheard amid the lusty cheers of the people all around them as Lucien carried her off, barbarian-style, to his private observation room behind the glowing red eyes of the dragon.
His wide shoulder was as hard as iron under her stomach, and his whole body gave off angry heat like a furnace. If
Alice’s notion of reality had been skewed by the decadence of
Revell Court
, her wits were absolutely routed by being carried off by the demonic master of the place. The people clapping for Lucien Knight and cheering for him seemed to think that he had singled her out for one reason only.
Alice was terrified that they were right.
Her protests, threats, and begging went unheeded, drowned out by the throbbing music and drums. Her kicks and flailing punches when she finally wrenched her hands free had not the slightest effect on him. She even tried pulling his wavy black hair in her wild scramble to free herself, but it only brought his hand down on her backside in a hearty spank.
“How dare you?” she gasped, her body going rigid, her eyes smarting at the sting, though the blow hurt her pride more than her flesh.
“Quit pulling my hair or next time it’ll be your bare arse.”
At his crude threat, her courage blasted up in a geyser of fury and indignation. For a man who supposedly spoke seven languages, he was a master of the vulgar tongue! She did not think she had ever been so angry in her entire life. She felt helpless, hefted in his powerful arms, and she hated it—more specifically, she hated him. Oh, how she wished her brother were still alive! Phillip would have put a bullet in him if he could have seen this—first Caro, now her!
Nevertheless, as “Draco” stalked toward the great carved dragon, Alice stopped fighting temporarily, knowing she was overpowered physically and had best regroup before they arrived wherever he was taking her. She was going to need her wits about her if she had any hope of stopping the fiend from ravishing her.
A guard in a long black coat opened a door for him behind the dragon’s elbow. Lord Lucien strode through it. It closed behind them, muffling the echoing roar of the music and the crowd. She braced her hands on the curve of his lower back and tried to twist around to see ahead.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded in a shaky voice.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he replied in a nasty tone.
She winced at his mockery, bounced against his rock-hard body as he began marching up a narrow spiral staircase hewn into the stone. His stride was tireless. At the top of the steps, another guard opened yet another door for them.
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