Read Online Ondine by Heather Graham, Shannon Drake - Free Book Online Page A

between his fingers. Her flesh seemed to burn as his fingers brushed over her breast, and her breath caught in her throat with both indignation and a startling sensation. He didn’t notice. His interest in her was very keen; yet again, she felt much like a purchase, to be appraised for the value of appearance’ sake.
    “You really are very beautiful,” he mused, as if such a thought should give him great surprise. “For a commoner.”
    She could not help herself. She wrenched her hair from his grasp and moved as far to the wall as she could.
    “Are commoners usually ugly, then, Lord Chatham?”
    He sighed, as if weary of her troublesome behavior. “Nay, and I meant no offense. You’ve merely features very fine—far more so than many of the great and ‘noble’ beauties of the land.” She might have been a diversion, one with whom he had allowed himself to tarry, yet now found tedious.
    “Have you quite finished?”
    “What—”
    “We’ve made our appearance. Word will spread quickly that you appeared at this table as my bride, a lady of bearing surely fit for mistress of the manor. Your past shall rest between Jake, yourself, and me. We need no longer stay here, and I, for one, am weary. I would think that you, too, would long for the comfort and cleanliness of a bed such as Meg offers here.”
    A bed! With him in it beside her …
    The dizziness swamped her in a burst of alarm and searing heat that brought a weak quiver to her limbs. Was he the beast, the rake, or the gentleman? She didn’t want to know. It was time to be the charming damsel now, herself; time to make good her elusive goal of freedom—and vengeance.
    “Is appearance so important, then?” she murmured, stalling for time.
    “Aye, especially so with us, milady.”
    “Then why did you marry me, a common poacher? Please, don’t tell me you needed a wife! Surely you could have secured a dozen wives from better places, had you so chosen!”
    “A dozen wives? A man may have but one, milady.” He hesitated. “I’ve grown tired of the pressure to marry, that is all. And I did not care to have a clinging countess about my neck, quizzing my movements. A gallows’ bride, madam, best suits my tastes. You are alive. I may be at peace and live my life as I choose. Does that satisfy you?” he inquired coolly.
    “It must, if it’s what you wish to tell me.”
    She lowered her eyes, fluttering her lashes carefully. A flash of guilt caused her heart to skip a beat. He had saved her life, had given her the pure ecstasy of cleanliness, and had caused her stomach to cease its habitual growl. Perhaps she could get an annulment for the marriage. She fervently hoped so, since there would be nothing she could do for quite some time. And she didn’t forget for a moment that she meant to pay him back.
    “My lady, may we leave?”
    She raised her eyes, allowing her lip to tremble. “Dear Lord Chatham, I implore you, may I have a minute for myself?”
    “What?” He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling with a sudden impatience.
    A flush that could not have been enacted rose to her cheeks, and she stuttered out her request again. “I’d have a moment. I— I wish to take care with my—”
    “You needn’t—” he interrupted her abruptly, but she would not allow him to go on. She reached across the table, resting her fingers lightly on the top of his hand, staring at him with all the tender innocence she could muster.
    “I implore you!”
    He shook off her touch—almost with distaste—and lifted his hands into the air. “Do whatever pleases you. It makes no difference to me.”
    Smiling graciously, she lowered her head and stood, willing her knees not to wobble. Hurriedly she swept from the bench, but she did not breathe until she had passed by him.
    And then she gulped for air, blindly making her way through the tables for the stairway. There were still voices and laughter in that room; they all blended together as she raced up the stairway,