Delectably Undone! by Elizabeth Rolls Michelle Willingham Marguerite Kaye Ashley Radcliff Bronwyn Scott

Author:Elizabeth Rolls, Michelle Willingham, Marguerite Kaye, Ashley Radcliff, Bronwyn Scott
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2011-01-23T22:00:00+00:00

“My instincts tell me you are about to launch an attack. Yet still I would know. Tell me,” he said with a sardonic smile.

She crossed her arms defiantly. “It’s simple. I was curious. I am four and twenty, with no prospects. I do not want to die a virgin. I wanted the experience without creating an obligation. The terms of our bet made that possible.”

He had known, of course he had known, that he was her first. It was inappropriate, but he could not help it. He was gratified as well as confused. “You should have told me. I would not have…”

“What,” she interrupted, anxious to stall the guilt she saw looming in his eyes, “what would you have done differently? I knew the risks. I accepted the odds. I put up a creditable performance—at any rate, you seemed to enjoy it. That is what it was, though, a performance.” She shrugged with what she hoped was nonchalance and turned to go, but a strong hand on her arm wiped the triumphant smile from her face.

“I wonder, though, my lovely Belle, why you waited so long? Had you made your need for a candidate to deflower you known, any man on earth would have been willing. Yet you chose me. Why?”

She licked her lips nervously.

Ewan laughed. “Take some advice from an experienced campaigner and retreat while you’re ahead, Belle.”

Isabella glared at him furiously, but could think of no retort.

Ewan took her arm. “It’s gone one o’clock,” he said, his tone more conciliatory now. “I find a night such as the last makes me uncommonly hungry. Let us go in search of sustenance.”

With her nose studiously in the air and her temper simmering, Isabella walked with him back to the house.

But it was not in her nature to sulk, and over a repast of cold cuts and hothouse fruits, Ewan set out to charm her. Since he touched not on the personal, and his opinions happily coincided with her own on an astonishing number of topics, this he did very well. He had a dry humour and pithy wit which Isabella found most invigorating. He made her laugh. She realised it had been many months since she had done so. His tales of his army days were fascinating, recounted with a modesty and humour which made her warm to him all the more.

“You’re very self-effacing about your exploits,” she said teasingly. “I had heard you were quite the dashing hero.”

“I prefer to let my actions speak for me, rather than words,” he replied with a shrug.

“Tell me,” she asked, “what turned you into such an avid supporter of Mr Fox and the Colonists—Americans, as I believe they like to be called? Having fought so loyally for the King, it seems a rather paradoxical stance to take.”

“Some would even say traitorous,” Ewan said bitterly.

“Not I,” Isabella said firmly.

He looked at her searchingly. “Thank you for that.”

Silence reigned for a few moments and Isabella held her breath, aware that the matter was important to him and deeply personal.

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