Page 27 of The Duke's Bartered Mistress

It had been a harsh letter, deliberately crude, and Angus would frank it from Banchot tomorrow. Demon wanted Bonkinbone to understand what was at stake here.

A good, honorable man might be able to resist Georgia’s charms…but not Demon.

He’d had a taste of her once, and wanted more, God help him.

“Good evening.”

Demon started, then scowled at his own surprise. He was still scowling when he turned, but Georgia—standing in the doorway in a pink gown and simple coiffure, her gloved hands clasped demurely before her—merely raised a brow in response.

Or perhaps in challenge.

For shite’s sake, his cock jumped in his trousers. She’d been beautiful in his study, but this afternoon, all rumbled and dusty and disheveled, she’d been approachable. Touchable. A woman someone like him was permitted to touch.

But tonight, in this gown…she looked like an earl’s daughter. The earl’s daughter she was. Poised. Collected. Refined.

His scowl deepened. “Ye’re late. I started without ye.”

If he’d been hoping to put her on the defensive, he failed.

“Punctuality is a mark of respect. I am not late,” Georgia declared breezily as she strolled toward the other chair at the table, “and therefore you show me your true opinion of me by starting without me.”

Well, spunk-stockings. The book dangled, forgotten, as Demon realized he’d been set down. Far more gently than his mother had ever bothered, and with a sweet smile, besides.

She stopped at the chair and surveyed the table. There were no elaborate place settings, no footmen standing by with platters and tongs. Demon preferred simplicity and solitude; it was why he dined with a book instead of down in the kitchens, even though he ate the same food. Bruno had delivered two plates that evening and pulled the utensils out of his pocket to arrange them atop the serviette.

It was how Demon dined, and yet he suddenly felt the need to defend his choices. “Life at Endymion is likely simpler than ye’re used to.”

It wasn’t an apology.

But her soft smile made him feel as if he’d said the right thing.

“If I had known books were to be our dining companions, I would have brought one.” She was still standing behind her chair. “I left my novel in Banchot, and was grateful to receive it along with my luggage.”

She swept a hand down her skirt. For the first time, Demon realized it was more wrinkled than appropriate for polite Society. His frown softened. Perhaps she did fit in.

Awkwardly, he waved Darwin’s book in her direction as he pretended to focus on stabbing his next bite. “Ye’re welcome to borrow this one,” he mumbled before he shoved a turnip in his mouth.

To his surprise, Georgia rested one hand on the back of her chair and reached across the table to pull the book from his hand, her fingers effortlessly taking the place of his, marking his spot as easily as any scrap of paper.

She held it up. “Darwin? Is this your preferred reading? I found him to be…dull.”

Demon cocked a brow. “Ye’ve read it?”

“Only because it was considered scandalous.”

When she winked saucily, Demon felt an electric spark shoot straight from his eyes to his cock. She didn’t notice, but began to read the passage he’d been stuck on.

“’A hornless stag or spurless cock would have a poor chance of leaving offspring. Sexual selection by always allowing the victor to breed might surely give indomitable courage, length to the spur, and strength to the wing to strike.’” Georgia read quickly in a light, conversational tone. “’As well as the brutal cock-fighter, who knows well that he can improve his breed by careful selection of the best cocks.’”

Demon cleared this throat. “I think ye best cease reading about cocks lass.”

Her cheeks pinked, gaze locked on the page, and for the first time, he wondered if she really was as forward and self-assured as she’d acted since arriving at Endymion. Her brashness had orchestrated his current dilemma, and he found himself charmed despite himself by her cheek. But was that who she really was?

Nay, she’s a loyal daughter, just looking for her da’s approval.

In a sudden movement, she snapped the book shut and placed it carefully beside her plate, then moved to stand behind her chair. He watched.

Georgia glanced at the chair, then at him.

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