Loving a Lost Lord by Mary Jo Putney

you do, just last night my husband returned.” She tried unsuccessfully to remove her hand from his clasp. “And I have not given you leave to call me by my given name. I am Mrs. Clarke.”
    After a startled moment, he laughed outright. “You are certainly persistent in your claims! Where is this husband of yours? I should be delighted to meet him.”
    Exasperated by his arrogance, she managed to jerk her hand free. “You can’t see him just now. He is unwell and resting from a difficult journey.”
    â€œAnd I’m the Sheik of Araby.” His expression changed, and she saw the first genuine feeling he’d shown today: lust. “I do adore you, Mariah. For your sake, I think I could even become a devoted husband.”
    Before she could protest, he pulled her into his arms and crushed his mouth into hers. He tasted of brandy. At this hour of the morning! No wonder he was behaving so badly. She wrenched her head to one side and cried, “Let go of me!”
    He ignored her protest, saying thickly, “We are both beautiful and a little wicked. We were meant to be together, Mariah!” He forced another kiss on her.
    She tried to break away but only managed to pull them both off balance. They tumbled onto his grandmother’s small table, which fell over with a crash, but he kept her trapped in his embrace.
    Mariah had been kissed by amorous and slightly foxed gentlemen before, but she had never felt real fear because her father had always been close. Now she was unprotected and no match for Burke’s strength. There were no male servants in the house, only the housekeeper and two maids, and they were unlikely to be within earshot.
    Furious at her helplessness, she kicked him in the ankle, but her soft slipper didn’t even make him flinch. Toes hurting, she raised her foot to stamp down.
    Before she could, Burke released her with such abruptness that she almost fell. No, he hadn’t released her; he was being wrenched away—by Adam.
    Her sailor loomed over her, barefoot, head bandaged, and wrapped in her father’s worn banyan. As she watched in shock, he twisted and pitched Burke across the room. Her assailant slammed into the sofa and crumpled to the floor, expression incredulous.
    Adam caught her elbow and steadied her, his eyes dark with concern. “Are you all right?”
    She nodded shakily. “Right enough.”
    â€œMy poor darling.” He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, then turned to her assailant. Though not as tall as Burke, Adam radiated an authority that could make a man twice his size cower. “Do not ever touch my wife again,” he said in a voice like flint. “Do I make myself clear?”
    â€œI…I didn’t think Mariah was really married,” Burke stammered.
    â€œYou will not use my wife’s given name,” Adam said coldly, his arm tightening around her shoulders. “She is Mrs. Clarke to you, and you owe her an apology. Not only did you assault her, but you insulted her honesty by refusing to believe the truth.”
    Mariah winced inwardly. In fact, Burke had read her lies accurately. But that gave him no right to maul her!
    Burke struggled to his feet, no longer a confident dandy. “I…I thought it was a kind of game she was playing. Everyone in Hartley thought she was single. The first time she mentioned a husband, she seemed to be pulling the idea out of the air. I was sure that after she absorbed the news of her father’s death, she would see the advantages of marrying me and accept my offer.”
    â€œHe wants his property back,” Mariah explained. “George Burke is the former owner who lost this estate to my father in a card game. Saints preserve any woman fool enough to entrust her future to him!” She took a deep breath. “But I don’t think he intended harm today. He was just…thoughtless and carried away.”
    Burke scowled, his