They walked through the winter garden in silence, while
Hannah struggled with the certainty that Rafe Bowman was
even more dangerous, more wrong for Natalie, than she had
originally believed. Natalie would eventually be hurt and
disillusioned by a husband she could never trust.
"You are not suitable for Natalie," she heard herself say
wretchedly. "The more I learn about you, the more certain I
am of that fact. I wish you would leave her alone. I wish
you would find some other nobleman's daughter to prey upon."
Bowman stopped with her beside the hedge. "You arrogant
little baggage," he said quietly. "The prey was not of my
choosing. I'm merely trying to make the best of my
circumstances. And if Lady Natalie will have me, it's not
your place to object."
"My affection for her gives me the right to say something"
"Maybe it's not affection. Are you certain you're not
speaking out of jealousy?"
"Jealousy? Of Natalie? You're mad to suggest such a thing"
"Oh, I don't know," he said with ruthless softness. "It's
possible you're tired of standing in her shadow. Watching
your cousin in all her finery, being admired and sought-
after while you stay at the side of the room with the
dowagers and wallflowers."
Hannah sputtered in outrage, one of her fists clenching and
raising as if to strike him.
Bowman caught her wrist easily, running a finger lightly
over her whitened knuckles. His soft, mocking laugh scalded
her ears. "Here," he said, forcibly crooking her thumb and
tucking it across her fingers. "Don't ever try to hit
someone with your thumb extendedyou'll breakk it that way."
"Let go," she cried, yanking hard at her imprisoned wrist.
"You wouldn't be so angry if I hadn't struck a nerve,"
he taunted. "Poor Hannah, always standing in the corner,
waiting for your turn. I'll tell you somethingyou're moore
than Natalie's equal, blue blood or no. You were meant for
something far better than this"
"Stop it!"
"A wife for convenience and a mistress for pleasure. Isn't
that how the peerage does it?"
Hannah stiffened all over, gasping, as Bowman brought her
against his large, powerful form. She stopped struggling,
recognizing that such efforts were useless against his
strength. Her face turned from him, and she jerked as she
felt his warm mouth brush the curve of her ear.
"I should make you my mistress," Bowman
whispered. "Beautiful Hannah. If you were mine, I'd lay you
on silk sheets and wrap you up in ropes of pearls, and feed
you honey from a silver spoon. Of course, you wouldn't be
able to make all your high-minded judgments if you were a
fallen woman . . . but you wouldn't care. Because I would
pleasure you, Hannah, every night, all night, until you
forgot your own name. Until you were willing to do things
that would shock you in the light of day. I would debauch
you from your head down to your innocent little toes"
"Oh, I despise you," she cried, twisting helplessly against
him. She had begun to feel real fear, not only from his
hard grip and taunting words, but also from the shocks of
heat running through her.
After this, she would never be able to face him again.
Which was probably what he intended. A pleading sound came
from her throat as she felt a delicately inquiring kiss in
the hollow beneath her ear.
"You want me," he murmured. In a bewildering shift of mood
he turned tender, letting his lips wander slowly along the
side of her throat. "Admit it, HannahI appeal to your
criminal tendencies. And you definitely bring out the worst
in me." He drew his mouth over her neck, seeming to savor
the swift, unsteady surges of her breathing. "Kiss me," he
whispered. "Just once, and I'll let you go."
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