A Secret Affair by Maggi Andersen

Author:Maggi Andersen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Knox Robinson Publishing
Published: 2016-10-23T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

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The heavy rain clouds overhead looked ominous as Montsimon’s carriage set off for Slough.

Althea arranged the skirts of her olive green pelisse. “I hope the roads remain passable.”

Montsimon crossed one tasseled boot over the other and settled himself against the maroon leather squabs. “No need to worry.” He gave a careless shrug. “If we must, we can put up at a coaching inn for the night.”

“My reputation may already be in shreds, Montsimon,” she said. “This road is frequented by the ton traveling to and from Bath. If I’m seen staying at an inn in your company without even my maid—”

“And, as the ton thrives on gossip, and will be delighted to pounce on something improper to discuss at length,” he interrupted, completing her sentence. “What a pity we won’t be making it worth their while.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or might we?”

Althea looked at her gloves, smoothing invisible creases. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

In the ensuing silence, she couldn’t resist a peek at him.

His eyes had turned speculative. “I suspect you didn’t enjoy being married, Althea.”

Her face heated. Montsimon had not been married off to the highest bidder when just out of the schoolroom. Men had extraordinary freedom to do exactly as they pleased. But after her aunt’s inference that she was naive, and Brookwood’s foul claims, his suggestion hurt. “You think me a prude?”

“No, I doubt you’ve enjoyed a man’s touch.” He smiled. “The right man can change that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And the right man is you?”

“It could be me, if you wish it.”

Suddenly hot, she unbuttoned the frog fastenings of her pelisse and slipped it from her shoulders. “The air becomes so humid when it rains.”

Montsimon’s gaze roamed over her figure from her half boots to her amber-colored gown, pausing rather long at her chest, as if he undressed her with his eyes.

The suggestion that she was a prude hurt, but she would bear it if it kept him at a safe distance. She must never forget what he was, a notorious rake who had cut a swathe through many ladies of the ton. In his dark greatcoat, tan-colored trousers hugging muscled thighs, he sprawled on the seat opposite, graceful but mercurial. As if he might spring into action at the barest invitation. She was not about to give him one.

After sharing a bed with him without incident, she had been lulled into thinking she could trust him. Her heart hammered foolishly. Of course, she couldn’t. Heavens! She was to spend days in his company. She pulled her pelisse back over her shoulders.

“Don’t put it on; I’ve enjoyed looking at you. You’re a pretty woman, and it’s a wonderful way to eliminate the boredom of such a trip,” he drawled. “Although, there is an even better way.”

She had to fight her own battle of personal restraint as a vision flashed into her mind: her straddling his lap, her arms around his neck, her lips pressed to his tempting mouth. She took a long, steadying breath.

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