A Dangerous Man by Janmarie Anello

the family. Her aunt, hugging her while weeping all over her shoulder. The vicar offering his congratulations.
    Her father walked over to where Richard stood, slapped
him on the back. "Beautiful ceremony, eh, son?"
    Truly, the man did not recognize his danger.
    Hands clenching, the muscles in his legs tightening with
splendid tension, Richard smiled. "Geoffrey, would you
please be so kind as to escort-" Good God, he had to clench
his jaw to push the words past his teeth, "my wife out to the
carriage? I would like a word with her parent in private."
    "Please, call me Thaddeus," the man said, the pink in his
cheeks matching his waistcoat. "Or Papa. I rather like the
sound of that"
    "Yes, I am sure you do," Richard said, keeping his voice soft,
relishing the moment at hand and the anger pushing the blood
through his veins. "Lest you forget, I married your daughter for
one reason and one reason only. I have fulfilled my end of the
bargain. Now let me explain yours. You are never to come near
me or any member of my family ever again."
    "Now see here," Jamison sputtered. "If you think to renege
on our deal, I will tell the world about Alison-"
    Richard grabbed him by his over-starched cravat and hauled
him off his feet. "If you so much as whisper her name in your
dreams, I will know it. My vengeance will be fast and furious. I will crush you beneath my boot like the worm that you are. I
will throw your daughter to the wolves like yesterday's trash. I
will institute a very public, very ugly, divorce. And if you think
I won't, then try me. For I would have nothing left to lose,
which would make me very dangerous indeed." He leaned in
toward the man. "Now, have I made myself perfectly clear?"

    A blood-red flush stained the man's cheeks, but he pursed
his lips and nodded his assent.
    "And one other thing," Richard said, flexing his hands as
he thrust the bastard away.
    Jamison rubbed his fingers over his throat. "What's that,
son?"
    "Never call me son again or I will be forced to kill you for
the insult."
    Leah embraced her aunt one last time as they said their
farewells at the curb. The urge to cling to Emma's shoulders
and never let go was strong, but she forced herself to step
back. "Please, Aunt, do not weep. I will visit you often, and
you must call upon me at my new home"
    "You are right, of course," Emma said, touching the back
of her hand to her brow. She raised her tear-stained gaze to
the duke's. "You will treat my niece with kindness, my lord?"
    He did not correct her mistaken address, a small act of
compassion that brought a faint smile to Leah's lips.
    "I assure you, madam, she will have my utmost respect and
attention," he said with a bow before handing Leah into the
waiting conveyance, then hauling himself in behind her.
    The door swung shut with a resounding thump.
    "Your brother will not accompany us?" Leah heard the
breathless catch in her voice, but with each passing second,
she was finding it more difficult to control her spiraling
tension.
    She was alone in a dimly lit carriage with a man-not just any man, but her husband! Heading toward his home. Where
they would be alone. In the dark. In his bedchamber.

    Dear heavens, what had she done?
    "Geoffrey will ride ahead to ensure all is ready for our arrival." His large presence loomed heavily on her senses as he
sprawled on the bench opposite hers, his too-long legs touching her knees, his booted feet resting against her slippers.
    The feeble light from the single lantern cast unearthly
shadows over the hard, chiseled lines of his jaw, the curve of
his sensuous lips, the dark, dangerous glint in his eyes.
    The coach was too small. There was not enough air. She
slid along her bench until her shoulder touched the wall.
    His dark brows arched up. "Leah, I assure you, there is no
need to fear me ""
    She forced a little laugh, though it sounded more brittle than
the scornful tone she had hoped to achieve. "I do not fear you,
sir.