Page 7 of Lord of Temptation
“And that would be?”
He grinned wolfishly. “Between the lady and me.”
Rafe scowled. “I seeyou’venot grown more communicative either. But if she is betrothed and a lady, you would be unwise to seek a dalliance. Especially as she has four strapping brothers. You could very well find yourself in a bit of bother.”
“I’m not certain she has shared with them her desire to make this trip.”
“Why would you think that?”
“She has an air of mystery about her, and she is almost as tight-lipped as you. I sensed there was a good deal she had no wish to share. I rather enjoy unraveling mysteries.”
“Let her go, Brother.”
“Why?”
“My gut tells me that nothing except trouble awaits if you pursue this path.”
“You’re no doubt correct.”
But in his experience trouble was seldom boring.
It was a week before she returned to the tavern. He’d known sooner or later she’d seek him out. What surprised him was how quickly the sight of her inflamed his desire. He knew, as a gentleman, he should stand as she approached but then all would know how badly he wanted her. So he stayed as he was, lounging in his chair, stroking the dew from his tankard as lazily as he’d like to caress her damp skin after a rousing session in his bed.
She marched across the room with the force of a summer gale, purpose in every stride. Fire ignited those silver eyes, turning them pewter. He could see the pulse at her throat fluttering with her anger. Her high cheekbones carried a red hue. Her lips were pursed tightly. How he dearly wanted to part them, dart his tongue between them, and taste the honeyed nectar of her mouth.
He’d never in his life had such a strong reaction to a woman he barely knew. He wanted her, he couldn’t deny that. But it was more than the physical that appealed to him. What sort of woman would risk life and reputation to journey toward a man she’d not seen in four years?
He was not a great believer in love, could not claim to have ever loved a woman enough to risk all for her. Love was the domain of poets ... and perhaps Sebastian. The last time Tristan had seen him, he’d claimed to love Mary. While Tristan held a fondness for her, he wouldn’t change his life for her. He didn’t understand emotions that ran so deeply.
“You cur!” Lady Anne spat.
Tristan arched an eyebrow and lifted a corner of his mouth in a mocking smile. “Good evening to you as well, Lady Anne.”
“I’ve approached five captains, seeking passage on their ships. They’ve each turned me away.”
“I told you: women on a ship is considered bad luck. Sailors are a suspicious sort. I doubt you’ll find any willing to risk it.”
“Not when you’re paying double what I offer to those who turn me down.”
He fought not to show surprise that she’d managed to uncover that little fact.
She took a step nearer, gripped the back of the chair in her gloved hands, and leaned forward, confusion marring her brow. “Why? Why would you seek to undermine my efforts? Why would you care?”
“Because I want you on my ship.” Damnation. He’d meant to toy with her a bit longer, like reeling in a fish. His bitter confession was prompted by her eyes. The sorrow there that he didn’t understand, the pain that he wanted to ease.
“But you won’t take my money.”
“No.”
“You want me to give you something else.”
“Yes.”
“I know exactly what you want and you shall never have it.”
He tilted his head slightly. “Careful, Princess. That sounded like a challenge. And I’ve never walked away from a challenge ... or lost one.”
“Rot in hell.”
