Page 36 of A Rakish Duke's Rules for Love

She threw her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him, but Gabriel shoved her away hard enough that she flew across the room and nearly tipped over a chair. Turning away, he strode to the door, tested the lock, and found it fast.

“Open the door, Margaret!”

“No,” she said slyly. “You’ll have to get it, and until Portland seduces Anna and ruins her in the south garden where all of the guests will be amassed to see the fireworks, you’ll be here with me.”

It struck Gabriel—the two people he had heard talking before were Margaret and Portland. “You cruel, jealous fool.”

Voices came from the hallway, and Gabriel bolted for the window. He was one story up, but he didn’t care. He would rather be crippled for life than be caught alone with Margaret Fletcher.

He slid the window up, swung a leg over, and leaped. He hit the ground with bent knees, and while the jar of the landing jabbed up his spine, he had something more important to worry about: he had to find Ana.

CHAPTER11

Rule Twelve: Don’t Fall or Fight for Love

Love is a fantasy, a hoax, an imaginary construct piddled to women by gothic novels and old mythological stories. One will lose his life playing Romeo. Love has no place in finding pleasure.

—Gabriel Williams

A Rake’s Rules

When Portland had asked her to accompany him to see the fireworks, she had not realized that she had been lured outside an hour before the aerial display was to begin—and that Portland did not want to see the fireworks; he wanted to experience them.

He wrapped his arm around her like a steel band. “Shhh, this is supposed to look like a lovers’ tryst. Try to play along, dear Ana. I’ve heard you kiss like a dream. Why not give me a taste, hm?”

Ana squealed in anger. He tried to pull her toward the terrace, but she struggled as hard as she could, she dug in her heels, and her slipper slid on a pebble.

“Why are you doing this?” Ana cried.

“I will be paid very handsomely,” he smirked nastily. “And taking you away from Clovervale will be the tastiest morsel on top. However, permanent damage must be done first.”

“No.” Ana’s eyes widened in horror. “You cannot mean to—”

“Absolutely, my sweet,” he laughed. “Since Clovervale has taken to you, half the men in London want you. Hell, I would wager all the men in that ballroom do.”

“Stay away from me, or you will regret it.” Ana used the bench to get to her feet. Her knees were shaking terribly.

“You want me, you little baggage, and you know it,” Lord Portland ground out and reached for her.

“I would never want someone like you,” she spat.

“Oh, is it that way then? Think you're too good for the likes of me? I’m not Clovervale, is that it? For that, I will not only ruin you, but I’ll also have you in the whorehouse, too.” He grabbed her and leaned in.

Crack. Her small fist hit his nose with all the strength she could muster and snapped his head to the side.

“Son of a—” Lord Portland grabbed his nose and cursed as blood began to pour. “Where did you learn to hit like that? I’m going to get you for that.” He lunged and grabbed her.

“I don’t want anything to do with you! Let me go, you troglodyte.” She shoved at him, but he did not budge.

“If you wish to keep breathing, I recommend you not touch her,” Gabriel said, his voice menacing and heavy with impending pain. “Leave now, or I will bash your face in.”

“You!” Portland snapped. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you—”

“Suppose to be seduced by that cut-rate baggage upstairs you made your deal with?” Gabriel snarled as he came closer. “Did you truly think your deal would work?”

“Leave!” Lord Portland bellowed angrily and charged Gabriel.

Gabriel sidestepped Portland and laughed when Portland’s momentum propelled him, and he hit the ground. He launched to face Gabriel and swung his fists wildly, but Gabriel easily dodged the hits and placed a well-timed uppercut to his opponent’s jaw.

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