Beguiled by Her Betrayer

Author:Louise Allen [Allen, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Cleo said her good-nights and thanks without tripping over her feet or slurring her words or saying anything untoward.

‘Being drunk is very strange,’ she remarked as she clutched Quin’s arm and let him steer her towards her hut. ‘I feel all floaty. It is rather nice, I think.’

‘You’ll have the mother and father of headaches in the morning,’ he warned. ‘Drink something before you go to sleep, that will help. And have a big breakfast whether you feel like it or not.’

Cleo stopped suddenly, jerking Quin to a halt beside her. ‘You’re being very kind to me, Lord Quintus. I don’t know why.’ She squinted at him in the moonlight that had turned his hair silver and black and threw dramatic shadows, making a severely beautiful mask out of his strong-boned face.

‘Because I like you, Miss Woodward. You are as much trouble as a basketful of monkeys and as easy to understand as the Sphinx, but you’ve got courage and brains and a certain je ne sais quoi.’

‘Then I am sorry I hit you this afternoon,’ she said on a wave of warmth and generosity. ‘Does your hand still hurt? Perhaps I should kiss it better.’ I would like you to kiss me better.

‘That’s very kind of you, but I think we might give the sentries a bit of a shock.’ Quin started walking again. ‘Here we are, back to your room.’

Private Minton slammed to attention with a thud of boots on the hard ground that made Cleo wince.

‘Tomorrow we’ll discuss arrangements for getting to the coast and taking ship to England,’ Quin said as they stopped outside the door. ‘Private, could you just check all around the building, make certain all the shutters are secure?’ He waited while the soldier saluted and marched off, then turned back to Cleo. ‘I really do better without an audience.’ He tipped up her chin and bent his head so close that when he spoke his breath warmed her lips. ‘Good night, Cleo. Sweet dreams.’

The kiss was gentle and respectful and shockingly thorough. And beautifully timed. As Private Minton marched round the corner again Quin was standing a good foot away from her. ‘Good night, Miss Woodward. Good night, Private.’

‘Sir!’

Cleo was beyond words and, for an awful moment, without the strength in her shaking legs to move. Minton leapt to open the door. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured and staggered inside to collapse on the bed.

The wine or Quin’s kiss, or perhaps both, were making the room whirl above her head. It went on spinning when she closed her eyes so she sat up and groped for the covered glass beside the bed and gulped down warm well water. Cleo had a horrible suspicion that she was going regret a number of things in the morning and probably the least of them was going to be the wine she had drunk.

‘I am not going to think about it now,’ she said out loud and lay down again. I am not going to think about him now, either.

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