The Last Hellion by Loretta Chase

Author:Loretta Chase
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Tags: Romance, Adult, Historical
ISBN: 9780380776177
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 1998-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

“You fancy I’m no match for you or any of your clodpole friends?” she returned.

“If you attempted that course, you’d land in a ditch before the second stage.”

Lydia covered the distance between them in three angry strides. “Oh, would I?” she asked, her voice taunting. “How much would you care to wager?”

His green eyes flashed. “Anything you name.”

“Anything?”

“Name it, Grenville.”

Lydia thought quickly, assessing his previous assault on her unreasonable conscience. Here was the solution.

“Five thousand pounds for Miss Price,” she said, “and a thousand each to any three charitable causes I name—and you agree to take your seat in the House of Lords and exert your influence to pass the police bill.”

He stood, hands clenching and unclenching.

“Are the stakes too high for you?” she asked. “Perhaps you are not so sure, after all, of my incompetence.”

“I’d like to know how sure you are of mine,” he said. “What will you stake, Grenville?” He advanced another pace to loom over her, his mocking green gaze slanting down his nose as though she were ever so small and inferior. “How about your precious freedom? Are you confident enough to risk that?”

Well before he’d finished speaking, Lydia saw what she’d done: the corner she’d let pride and temper box her into.

She paused but a moment as the realization struck, yet it was enough for Ainswood to assume she was entertaining doubts, for the world’s most patronizing smile curved his wicked mouth and the world’s most aggravating glints of laughter lit his green eyes.

Then it was too late for second thoughts. The inner voice of reason was no match for the roar of Ballister pride, fueled by centuries of Ballister drive to conquer, crush, and in general pound whatever stood in its path into abject submission.

Lydia could not back down. She could not do or say anything that looked like doubt, because that was the same as admitting weakness or, God forbid, fear.

“My freedom, then,” she said, her voice low and hard, her chin high. “If I can’t beat you, I’ll marry you.”

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