Nothing Denied by Jess Michaels

Author:Jess Michaels [Michaels, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Erotica, General, Romance, Historical
ISBN: 9780061968235
Google: zJEDcsxtQ30C
Amazon: 0061657727
Publisher: Avon Red
Published: 2010-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

She sighed as she entered a little copse of trees at the base of a hil . One had been fel ed by a storm what looked like years ago and she sank down on the fal en trunk to relax for a moment before she returned to the house and a planned meeting with Gareth after he concluded his business.

She had just taken her place and arranged her skirts around her when there was a rustling in the woods off to her right. She tensed as she looked through the shadowy branches.

“H–hel o?” she cal ed out into the quiet, feeling foolish since she realized the sound was likely only some smal animal hunting in the brush. Stil , she sensed a presence here. A person.

There was no reply of course, and she shook her head at her own foolish imagination’s wild creation. Obviously, she had been cooped up in the house too long. Perhaps she would suggest to Gareth that they take a walk each day, although she wasn’t certain she wanted so much time with Gareth when he could interrogate her about the past she wanted to keep secret. He wanted to know too much, to see—

Before she could finish her thought, the rustling came again, this time louder, and she was certain it came from something much larger than a field mouse came from something much larger than a field mouse or rabbit nosing through the brush. She got to her feet and faced the sound.

“Who is there?” she snapped, retreating once again to sharpness when fear mobbed her. She knew better than to show any weakness to an enemy. “I know someone is out there. Show your face to me immediately.”

“With pleasure.”

Beatrice yelped as a man stepped out of the shadows toward her. He was tal and thin, rangy, almost like he hadn’t been eating wel for quite some time. His clothing was in il repair, as wel . He held a bottle in one hand, but even before she recognized it as whiskey, she smel ed the brew on him and recoiled.

“And just who are you, trespassing on the Marquis of Highcroft’s estate?” she asked, backing up as she tried to maintain a haughty, angry tone in the face of this marauding stranger who was staring at her with such focused intent.

He laughed, though the sound held no pleasure. “He said Highcroft had a whore here with him, but here you are, a fine lady.”

Beatrice flinched at his tone, fil ed with bitterness and hatred. His pointed, insulting words hung between them, making her stomach turn and her hands shake. This person apparently despised her, though she was certain she had never met him before he popped out of the woods behind her.

Worse, the stranger before her said “he” had told him something about her. “He,” another person

…someone spreading the word about her residence here. If that were true, if someone had seen her arrive here, if Gareth’s servants were spreading tales in the

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