Always a Temptress by Eileen Dreyer

voice pitched lower, her hands sweeping through the air in punctuation, “is an oval mirror on a stand. A tall …oval mirror. The innovation is that in it I can see a reflection of my entire—” She swept her hands down, mimicking her own contours, still smiling. “Self. All at once. Scandalous, don’t you think? I keep it in my boudoir.”
    “Mudge,” Harry interrupted.
    The boy started and turned, as if he’d completely forgotten that Harry was there.
    “Did you get supplies?” Harry asked.
    Mudge blinked. “Yessir.”
    Harry nodded. “How about some food, then? The men will be hungry.”
    Mudge bobbed his head and turned to give Kate an abrupt, rather clumsy bow that endeared him to her all the more. “Y’r Grace.”
    She held out her hand as if he were a viscount on a morning visit. “It has been a pleasure. Don’t let Harry intimidate you, my dear. He’s all uniform and no sword.”
    Touching her fingers, the boy flashed her a bright grin. Then he fled.
    Harry waited until Mudge was well out of sight before stepping into the room. “I’m afraid your efforts were wasted on him,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb in a pose of insouciance. “He’s not your type.”
    “Not my type?” Kate retorted with a quirked eyebrow. “You truly think there is a man alive who’s not my type? I must be losing my touch.”
    “He’s a soldier in the king’s army, and would not be well served by any of the men hearing him called ‘dear.’”
    Kate strolled over to the boarded-up window, as if she could see out of it. “How on earth did Mudge find himself in the army?”
    “It was that or Botany Bay. He was caught stealing bread.”
    Kate wished she could say she was surprised. “Why, Harry,” she said, turning back on him, her own eyes wide. “You’ve taken him under your wing, haven’t you? Altruism? I’m not sure it fits you.”
    “I reserve it for people who deserve it. Mudge has no idea how to lie.”
    “And I’m so very good at it, you see no reason to protect me.”
    “I never said you were lacking in intellect, Kate.” Straightening, he offered her a chilly smile. “It’s almost noon. Are you going to cooperate, or will this get difficult?”
    “Oh…” Kate gave the appearance of considering his question. “Difficult, I think.”
    He stared at her, obviously fighting for control. She held her breath, not sure what she wanted him to do. She wanted to fight him; to tear strips off his skin for the insults he’d delivered, the assumptions he made. She wanted to get past him and escape.
    He shook his head. “Don’t push me, Kate. I’m not in a good mood.”
    She smiled. “Good heavens. If kidnapping your favorite nemesis doesn’t put you in a good mood, Harry, I fear you’ve lost the knack for happiness. Probably a good thing that those two engagements of yours didn’t work out, then, don’t you think? Think of what their lives would have been like. Especially…Lady Poppy, wasn’t it?”
    The minute she said it she regretted it. She saw his mouth go white and braced herself.
    “You just won’t stop, will you?” he snarled.
    A shiver of fear chased down her spine; a shudder of anticipation as he stepped right up to her.
    “Is that what you want?” he demanded. “For me to lose my control?”
    Was it? His eyes, those soft sky-blue eyes, were the color of hot flame. He seemed to fill the room. She stood her ground. Joan of Arc. Boudicca. Except she didn’t think those valiant women had been holding out against the confusion of desire.
    He stood so close, she could feel the wash of his breath against her cheek. “You want me to take it from you?” he asked. “Is that the taste you’ve acquired over the years? Would you like me to control you? Maybe tie you up, or get out my riding crop? I know that some women like the sting of it across their sweet little asses. How about you, Kate? Is that what you’re waiting for?”
    Suddenly the room went cold and Kate