Page 35 of Seducing the Knave

Already on edge, her nerves were only aggravated by his dismissive tone. “And what is so wrong with believing things will turn out for the best?”

He arched a maddeningly irreverent brow. “I’m sorry, princess, but the real world is filled with evil. Bad things happen to good people and villains often win. Consider it another dose of reality. One ye’d best accept if ye hope to avoid a wretched fate.”

“Thank you so much for the cynical and in no way helpful advice,” she retorted. “But I refuse to take on such a jaded perspective. I’ve seen how beautiful life can be. For eighteen unforgettable years, I lived it!” Her voice rose in conviction. “And I won’t allow one devastating tragedy to change everything. Loss and pain will not define me. I decide my fate, no one else. And I will not be deterred. By you or anyone. I will live life on my terms, dammit, which means I will believe in a happy ending for myself. In fact, I’ll accept nothing less.”

The ferocity of her declaration hovered between them as his lips slowly curved in a smile. When her jaw clenched with another rush of outrage, he gave a nod.

“Glad to hear it. Perhaps ye’ve nothing to worry about after all.”

“I don’t,” she assured curtly. “And I insist you keep your opinions and your advice to yourself. I’ve no need for either of them.”

When it looked like he’d argue further, she swiftly interrupted him. “If you dare to say another demoralizing word, I’ll...”

Her tongue twisted in her mouth. She couldn’t think of a consequence severe enough to prove the depth of her conviction. As her mouth opened and closed with no words flowing out, Max gave a wide and wily grin.

“You’ll”—he arched his brows—“rip me balls off?” he offered helpfully.

Though Elle had never heard the crude phrase before, she easily guessed the reference. “Yes,” she muttered, slightly taken aback, “I suppose that sounds like it might be an appropriate punishment.”

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it,” he repeated. “If ye can’t say it, how d’ye expect to do it?”

She frowned. Everything devolved into some sort of test or taunt with this man. So be it.

Hardening her expression, she lowered her chin to angle a fierce stare into flinty gray eyes. For just a second, she thought she saw a twitch at the edges of his arrogant grin as she did her best to mimic the cold menace she’d detected in his voice on a few rare occasions.

“If you doubt me again,” she snarled softly, “I’ll rip off your balls and gleefully toss them into the murky waters of the Thames.”

His eyebrows arched sharply. “Gleefully?”

“Yes,” she asserted. “Gleefully.”

His eyes flashed dark then light again and an odd ripple seemed to pass through his body, changing it in a subtle but undeniable way from fully relaxed to suddenly sharply alert.

“I believe ye just might,” he murmured gruffly, an odd richness coloring his tone.

She glared at him for a few moments, daring him to contradict her further.

But he slouched down in his seat and stretched his long, muscled legs across to her side of the carriage and closed his eyes.

She decided to consider his casual dismissal as a blessing. It would be a lot easier to ignore him once he was asleep.

Perhaps she should try to get a little rest herself. She certainly hadn’t slept much in the last few days and there was no telling how she’d be received when she showed up unannounced on the Gilchrists’ doorstep. She might need every bit of fortitude she could muster before her arrival.

Wrapping her cloak around herself, she folded her legs up onto the seat and curled up in the corner of the carriage to rest her head against the wall. It was nowhere near as comfortable as when she’d been so warmly held in Max’s arms.

Wait a minute!

When had that happened?

She fought through her hazy memory of the day before and realized that some point after she’d finished off a full tankard of ale and before the highwaymen had attempted to rob them, she had, in fact, slept quite peacefully within Max’s embrace. With her cheeks suddenly burning, she recalled the even rise and fall of his chest beneath her head, the smooth material of his satin waistcoat under her palm, and the secure band of his arm around her back.

As the carriage bumped and jolted over a particularly rugged series of ruts in the road, she refused to allow herself the foolish luxury of wishing she could once again be tucked in against his strong frame.

It was probably a testimony to just how tired she was that, despite her discomfort, she managed to slip quite easily into a deep sleep only to be awoken rather abruptly sometime later by the shouts and whistles and other noises characteristic of a bustling metropolis. Blinking in surprise, she looked out the window to find that they’d obviously entered London some time ago.

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