Read Online Some Like It Sinful (Hellion's Den) by Alexandra Ivy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alexandra Ivy
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killer, and Miss Dawson possesses a most remarkable intelligence. I sense she might be of more assistance than I first hoped.”
Santos laughed softly at his words. “And you desire to bed her?”
Hawksley stiffened in annoyance before a rueful smile curved his lips. Only an utter idiot would mistake the manner with which he watched Miss Dawson. And Santos could never be taken for an idiot.
“Of course I desire to bed her. She is extraordinarily beautiful.” He offered a grimace. “Unfortunately, she is also a proper lady. I do not trifle with virgins.”
Their gazes met, each man judging the other, before Santos gave a slow nod of his head.
“She will be in danger in London.”
“I will protect her. Indeed, she will be safer with me than she would be if I simply cast her to her own devices. I am not quite certain how she has managed to survive for so long.”
“Your mind is set?”
“Yes.”
Santos gave a slow nod. “What do you desire from me?”
Hawksley considered for a moment. He knew without doubt he had only to say the word for this man to rid the cottage of every ruffian within. Santos was even more a ruthless bastard than Hawksley himself.
But common sense warned that the sudden death of the highwaymen, along with the disappearance of Miss Dawson, would alert Lord Doulton that his devious plot had been uncovered. He would become more vigilant than ever, and any hope of luring him into revealing his sins would be lost.
Far better for him to presume that Miss Dawson had innocently slipped through the ambush and leave it at that.
“If it is possible I would like to you to distract Jimmy,” he at last requested.
“Lay a false trail?”
“Precisely.”
Santos slowly smiled. “Actually, I can do better than that.”
Hawksley fully approved of that devious smile. It meant that his friend was considering something wickedly brilliant.
“What do you intend to do?”
Santos turned back toward the cottage. “I think I can convince the fools that Miss Dawson has met an untimely accident. Hired carriages are forever overturning; in truth, they are little better than a death trap. It will keep Lord Doulton from continuing his search for her and perhaps lull him into a false sense of comfort. In my experience, gentlemen who are overconfident tend to make mistakes.”
Hawksley gave a short laugh as he reached out to clap his companion on the back. “I am in your debt, my friend.”
Santos gave a lift of his brows as he swiveled to deliberately study the lovely angel now regarding them with a hint of impatience.
“Hmm. I shall think of some means of payment,” he murmured.
Hawksley shifted until he was nose to nose with his companion. “Not for all the gold in England.”
Santos gave a quick laugh before stepping back and offering a fluid bow. “Take care.”
He moved toward his waiting mount, but Hawksley had already turned to study the thick shadows about him. He had heard his servants approach several moments ago. They would be silently awaiting him to signal his intent.
“Dillon, bring Brutus,” he commanded as his gaze caught the square form standing beside a large bush.
“Aye.”
With a renewed burst of energy, Hawksley crossed back to join Miss Dawson. Allowing his gaze to sweep over her countenance, he noticed her expression was set in determinedly calm lines, but not even this formidable female was capable of disguising the weariness that darkened her eyes or the brittle tension that shimmered about her slender form.
Hawksley was forced to stifle a pang of regret. She should be nicely tucked in her cottage, far away from ruthless men such as Lord Doulton.
And himself.
The Miss Dawsons of the world were meant to be protected from evil, not hoisted into a cesspit of murder and treachery.
Unfortunately, he could think of no means to return her to her innocent country existence. Not until he managed to rid London of Lord Doulton.
With her determined insistence to appear
Santos laughed softly at his words. “And you desire to bed her?”
Hawksley stiffened in annoyance before a rueful smile curved his lips. Only an utter idiot would mistake the manner with which he watched Miss Dawson. And Santos could never be taken for an idiot.
“Of course I desire to bed her. She is extraordinarily beautiful.” He offered a grimace. “Unfortunately, she is also a proper lady. I do not trifle with virgins.”
Their gazes met, each man judging the other, before Santos gave a slow nod of his head.
“She will be in danger in London.”
“I will protect her. Indeed, she will be safer with me than she would be if I simply cast her to her own devices. I am not quite certain how she has managed to survive for so long.”
“Your mind is set?”
“Yes.”
Santos gave a slow nod. “What do you desire from me?”
Hawksley considered for a moment. He knew without doubt he had only to say the word for this man to rid the cottage of every ruffian within. Santos was even more a ruthless bastard than Hawksley himself.
But common sense warned that the sudden death of the highwaymen, along with the disappearance of Miss Dawson, would alert Lord Doulton that his devious plot had been uncovered. He would become more vigilant than ever, and any hope of luring him into revealing his sins would be lost.
Far better for him to presume that Miss Dawson had innocently slipped through the ambush and leave it at that.
“If it is possible I would like to you to distract Jimmy,” he at last requested.
“Lay a false trail?”
“Precisely.”
Santos slowly smiled. “Actually, I can do better than that.”
Hawksley fully approved of that devious smile. It meant that his friend was considering something wickedly brilliant.
“What do you intend to do?”
Santos turned back toward the cottage. “I think I can convince the fools that Miss Dawson has met an untimely accident. Hired carriages are forever overturning; in truth, they are little better than a death trap. It will keep Lord Doulton from continuing his search for her and perhaps lull him into a false sense of comfort. In my experience, gentlemen who are overconfident tend to make mistakes.”
Hawksley gave a short laugh as he reached out to clap his companion on the back. “I am in your debt, my friend.”
Santos gave a lift of his brows as he swiveled to deliberately study the lovely angel now regarding them with a hint of impatience.
“Hmm. I shall think of some means of payment,” he murmured.
Hawksley shifted until he was nose to nose with his companion. “Not for all the gold in England.”
Santos gave a quick laugh before stepping back and offering a fluid bow. “Take care.”
He moved toward his waiting mount, but Hawksley had already turned to study the thick shadows about him. He had heard his servants approach several moments ago. They would be silently awaiting him to signal his intent.
“Dillon, bring Brutus,” he commanded as his gaze caught the square form standing beside a large bush.
“Aye.”
With a renewed burst of energy, Hawksley crossed back to join Miss Dawson. Allowing his gaze to sweep over her countenance, he noticed her expression was set in determinedly calm lines, but not even this formidable female was capable of disguising the weariness that darkened her eyes or the brittle tension that shimmered about her slender form.
Hawksley was forced to stifle a pang of regret. She should be nicely tucked in her cottage, far away from ruthless men such as Lord Doulton.
And himself.
The Miss Dawsons of the world were meant to be protected from evil, not hoisted into a cesspit of murder and treachery.
Unfortunately, he could think of no means to return her to her innocent country existence. Not until he managed to rid London of Lord Doulton.
With her determined insistence to appear
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