The Seduction of an English Scoundrel by Jillian Hunter

I’m done, well, he’ll eat his heart out for certain.”
    She turned in consternation to the window as he moved up beside her. “I don’t know what came over the pair of us,” she murmured. “Behaving like . . . well, I can’t compare that kiss to anything I have ever experienced.”
    â€œNo?” he teased, strangely glad to know he had not lost his capacity to overwhelm.
    â€œThe closest memory I can conjure is the time I disobeyed my father and sneaked out to ride his unbroken stallion. The fall knocked the wind out of me. Your kiss has left me in a similar state of breathless agony.”
    Grayson frowned. There was a vast difference between overwhelming a woman and picturing her gasping in pain on the ground. “I can’t say if I should be flattered or not.”
    She half turned, looking flustered to find he was standing closer than where she had left him. “I do appreciate your intention to help. It’s your methods I call into question.”
    He shrugged. “As I said, helping you is as much for the good of my family as for yours.”
    â€œWhat would you say if I refused to agree?”
    â€œThen I should have to have another go at persuading you. But I think you have already agreed, haven’t you?”
    â€œThat is an arrogant assumption.”
    â€œIt is a historical fact, Jane,” he said, his voice unapologetic. “No female from feudal times has been able to refuse a Boscastle male once he puts his mark on her.”
    â€œHis mark?” Her brows lifted. “Oh, lovely. A brand on the proverbial cow’s bum.”
    He reached around her to collect his gloves from the couch, hiding a grin. Weaker soul, had he thought? Well, perhaps she was in shock. Perhaps she wasn’t herself. “I shall call on you tomorrow.”
    â€œThat soon?” she said in alarm, half aware that her question constituted an agreement between them.
    â€œNo point in drifting into spinsterhood,” he said a little ruthlessly. “Besides, you’ve wallowed in self-pity long enough. Off with the wedding weeds, please.”
    â€œI beg your pardon,” Jane said, sputtering at his bluntness.
    â€œWeeds, as in funeral garments,” he said more gently. “The day’s hopes are dead. Long live tomorrow’s foolish whims. Burn his letters, sweetheart. Wear something daring for me when I call.”
    She stared at him in disdain. “I have nothing daring in my wardrobe, Sedgecroft.”
    â€œThat will have to be changed,” he said, staring right back at her.
    She placed her hands on her hips. “What if I don’t want it to be changed?”
    â€œEvery woman wants to be desirable,” he said with another lift of his broad shoulders.
    â€œPerhaps the women
you
associate with. I did notice the harem in the chapel.”
    â€œIt was only good manners to invite them.”
    â€œWas it good manners that brought them to your bed?” she could not stop herself from asking.
    His white teeth flashed in a grin. “My manners prevent me from answering that question.”
    â€œI can imagine,” she said, her mind flooded by images of Sedgecroft at his wicked worst, frolicking in decadence with his mistresses. Suddenly curious, she asked, “Won’t your paramours mind you squiring me about?”
    â€œFortunately for you, Jane, I am free at the moment from romantic entanglements.”
    â€œFortunately for me,” she muttered.
    A floorboard creaked outside the door. Jane blushed to think someone might be eavesdropping on this encounter. “You are nothing like Nigel,” she said in an undertone.
    He gave a deep laugh before turning to the door. “I trust that shall prove to your advantage.”

Chapter 5

    For a moment Grayson considered acting as if he did not notice the two women caught on their knees outside the door. But when they rose to block his escape, he could hardly