Read Online Ruthless Charmer by Julia London - Free Book Online
Authors: Julia London
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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led Phillip on that fatal course with no regard for anyone but himself, and least of all, her. But then, he had made it quite clear that she was not worthy of Phillip's affections
. . .
just as he had once made it abundantly clear she was not worthy of his.
All right. In truth—not that she would ever admit it— no one was more surprised than she when she caught Phillip's eye at the Sutherland ball. It had astounded her that Lord Rothembow, one of the Rogues of Regent Street, the elite of the ton's most eligible bachelors, would be interested in her. As charming as he reputedly was reckless, he was a figure bigger than life to her, terribly handsome with his blond curls and laughing blue eyes. She had thoroughly enjoyed his attentions, but who wouldn't? In the beginning, Phillip made her feel as if she meant something to him, as if she were important. He escorted her to a number of events, gave her trinkets as a token of his admiration, and seemed truly genuine in his affection.
Naturally, it hadn't been very long before her friends were whispering that Phillip would offer for her. Even Phillip hinted at it once—nothing very direct, really, but just a casual remark of their future together. God knew she was certainly open to the possibility. Rather hoped for it, actually. But then, in the last few weeks of his life, Phillip grew distant—even belligerent—and that could only be blamed on the Almighty Lord Kettering. She remained quite convinced that Phillip never would have fallen so far had it not been for him. Even that horrible, wretched night Phillip had called unexpectedly, well into his cups—even then he had been out with Julian.
That night was her worst memory. Phillip was obviously quite inebriated, although he was usually a master at masking it. But she hadn't really known just how inebriated until she did not receive him as ardently as he thought she should. Angered, he had lunged at her, trapping her against the door in an attempt to force her affection.
A shiver ran down Claudia's spine as she recalled how he had shoved his hand into her bodice, cruelly squeezing her breast while his other hand groped for the most private part of her. Fear had quickly turned to terror when she could not stop him, could not stop him from taking her like that, in her father's house, like a whore. . . .
By some miracle, she had managed to wrench her arm free and slap him, hard, with every ounce of strength she possessed. Stunned by the blow, Phillip had staggered backward as he lifted a hand to his face. And then he had laughed. Had laughed at her in that same indolent way Julian had laughed when she insisted Phillip cared deeply for her.
She never saw Phillip again. He was dead a scant two weeks later, having followed Julian Dane and the others to some remote hunting lodge for a weekend of debauchery.
Adrian Spence pulled the trigger, but Julian Dane put him in the line of fire.
And she could not, would not, forgive it, no matter how hotly he made her blood run.
But really, with the extraordinary exception of last night, he had never shown her the slightest bit of attention in all the years she had known him. If anything, he had run with horror in the other direction. She couldn't help but recall the summer of her twelfth year and the night she had done the unthinkable by kissing him full on the lips. She scarcely had a moment to wonder at her own madness before he jerked her away from him so hard that her arms felt as if they had been yanked from their sockets. "If you ever do something so foolish again, I will send you home at once with a letter explaining to your father exactly why you are being sent home from Kettering Hall!" he snapped in a terrifying voice.
Her stomach had twisted with the horror of her mistake, and she had whirled away from him, fleeing the terrace with tears of shame blinding her.
Thirteen years later and it was still a painful memory.
Claudia restlessly pushed herself off the bed and
. . .
just as he had once made it abundantly clear she was not worthy of his.
All right. In truth—not that she would ever admit it— no one was more surprised than she when she caught Phillip's eye at the Sutherland ball. It had astounded her that Lord Rothembow, one of the Rogues of Regent Street, the elite of the ton's most eligible bachelors, would be interested in her. As charming as he reputedly was reckless, he was a figure bigger than life to her, terribly handsome with his blond curls and laughing blue eyes. She had thoroughly enjoyed his attentions, but who wouldn't? In the beginning, Phillip made her feel as if she meant something to him, as if she were important. He escorted her to a number of events, gave her trinkets as a token of his admiration, and seemed truly genuine in his affection.
Naturally, it hadn't been very long before her friends were whispering that Phillip would offer for her. Even Phillip hinted at it once—nothing very direct, really, but just a casual remark of their future together. God knew she was certainly open to the possibility. Rather hoped for it, actually. But then, in the last few weeks of his life, Phillip grew distant—even belligerent—and that could only be blamed on the Almighty Lord Kettering. She remained quite convinced that Phillip never would have fallen so far had it not been for him. Even that horrible, wretched night Phillip had called unexpectedly, well into his cups—even then he had been out with Julian.
That night was her worst memory. Phillip was obviously quite inebriated, although he was usually a master at masking it. But she hadn't really known just how inebriated until she did not receive him as ardently as he thought she should. Angered, he had lunged at her, trapping her against the door in an attempt to force her affection.
A shiver ran down Claudia's spine as she recalled how he had shoved his hand into her bodice, cruelly squeezing her breast while his other hand groped for the most private part of her. Fear had quickly turned to terror when she could not stop him, could not stop him from taking her like that, in her father's house, like a whore. . . .
By some miracle, she had managed to wrench her arm free and slap him, hard, with every ounce of strength she possessed. Stunned by the blow, Phillip had staggered backward as he lifted a hand to his face. And then he had laughed. Had laughed at her in that same indolent way Julian had laughed when she insisted Phillip cared deeply for her.
She never saw Phillip again. He was dead a scant two weeks later, having followed Julian Dane and the others to some remote hunting lodge for a weekend of debauchery.
Adrian Spence pulled the trigger, but Julian Dane put him in the line of fire.
And she could not, would not, forgive it, no matter how hotly he made her blood run.
But really, with the extraordinary exception of last night, he had never shown her the slightest bit of attention in all the years she had known him. If anything, he had run with horror in the other direction. She couldn't help but recall the summer of her twelfth year and the night she had done the unthinkable by kissing him full on the lips. She scarcely had a moment to wonder at her own madness before he jerked her away from him so hard that her arms felt as if they had been yanked from their sockets. "If you ever do something so foolish again, I will send you home at once with a letter explaining to your father exactly why you are being sent home from Kettering Hall!" he snapped in a terrifying voice.
Her stomach had twisted with the horror of her mistake, and she had whirled away from him, fleeing the terrace with tears of shame blinding her.
Thirteen years later and it was still a painful memory.
Claudia restlessly pushed herself off the bed and
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