Maybe This Time by Vicki Hinze

Author:Vicki Hinze [Hinze, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781611942484
Publisher: BelleBooks
Published: 2013-02-15T08:00:00+00:00

“Indeed I am. But then so is Innes.” He stroked his jaw, looking every inch a rakehell. “Tell me, my dear. Do you consider him a gentleman?”

She wanted to slap him. He knew she hated Innes. Why did the cad persist in taunting her? As stubborn as he was offensive, she refused to answer him.

He laughed. “He won’t marry you now, you know.”

In that, he was right—thank God. Still, her pride insisted she contradict him. “Lord Innes is my betrothed.”

“Was.”

“The man isn’t dead, milord.” She remembered the odd angle of Innes’s jaw. “Is he?”

“No. But he is no longer your betrothed.”

“I can’t say that displeases me,” she admitted, not sure quite what to make of her captor. “It’s a relief to be free.”

“You are not free.” His hard look lent sharp emphasis to his contradiction. “You’re mine.”

She lifted her chin. “And how did you arrive at this conclusion?”

The horses slowed to a stop. “Major?” her captor called out.

“No worry,” the coachman called back.

The stop remained unexplained, but her captor didn’t appear uneasy. The blasted man seemed relaxed. He turned on the seat and his knee brushed against her thigh. She jerked away and glared at him. Though he held her glare, she couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t glare back, and, feeling petty, she looked away.

They sat in silence for long minutes. Battling the urge to tap her fingers on the carriage wall, she heard the coachman climb back atop the box. Soon they were again on their way.

The quiet night and rhythmic motion of the carriage conspired against her. Her eyelids grew more and more heavy. Weary, still recovering from the fever, she fought the affects of the day’s excitements. But the needs of her body claimed victory, and soon her eyes drifted closed.

“ALYSSA? ALYSSA, wake up.”

She was so warm, so comfortable. “Just a few more minutes, Meg,” she mumbled, snuggling deeper. Slowly, she became aware of a pleasant scent. A man’s scent! Wrapped in a man’s arms! Gasping, she bolted upright.

“Careful.” Chuckling, he steadied her, his hands at her waist. “I’m sorry to disturb your rest, but we are in Carlisle. You must pay for the horses.”

She sat on his lap? Mortified, she tried to free herself, but he refused to release her. “I won’t do it.” Fighting him was futile—he was twice her size—and unwilling to expend wasteful energy, she stilled.

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