Hunter Of My Heart

Suddenly a tremor rippled through her. He exuded overpowering maleness, which caused her stomach to flutter during his kiss. Then as now, she dismissed the urge to examine the feeling. More important things needed her attention.

As she stared at the rose-patterned carpet, Sabrina realized her words had drifted into silence. “I must think of a new plan. I can’t stay married to him.”

Marga gasped. “We agreed you must do this for the twins.”

Moving around the chair, Sabrina faced her aunt. “Remember we considered investigating Kenilworth?”

“Oui. Blackmail him. What good is that now?”

“Blackmail is an ugly word. Consider this! If we learn his secret through an investigation, he might consider an annulment.”

“What about your grandpapa? He will never allow it.”

“If I can convince Kenilworth, we could keep our plan secret. Once I reach my majority, Lord Sadlerfield loses his legal right to dictate my life. My birthday is just a few months away.”

Marga tapped her nails on the brocade upholstery. “Then you must think of ways to stop him from bedding you.”

Heat crept up her neck. “This is what you planned to tell me?”

“Oui, you might avoid the act until you know him better. It might not seem so distasteful to you then.”

Loath to admit it, his kiss was anything but unpleasant. She frowned. “Why is that?”

“Not all women enjoy coupling. At least he is an attractive man. Once you acquaint yourself, you might find pleasure in sharing a bed. Did you forget the Times? They said he was a good man.”

“Shabby reporting! Probably not a word of truth!”

“Possibly, but he did not ask for this marriage. You cannot fault a man who tries to turn a bad situation into good.”

Sabrina snorted. “I want to return to London, speak to Geoffrey and at least consider an annulment. What if Kenilworth happens to meet the twins?”

“I doubt he will pay much notice. Your grandpapa is paying him money to produce an heir. His interest will be bedding you.”

She pressed her palms over her ears. “Don’t remind me! I can’t give the duke an heir! Unless I reveal Alec, the babe would usurp my brother’s rights.” Yet, when she considered lying next to Kenilworth’s hard form, the odd tingling sensation returned. She disliked her body’s reaction. Sinking onto the bed, she ran her hand across the emerald velvet counterpane. “Can you think of anything to keep him from me?”

“Your monthly. A headache. Inebriation.” Marga grimaced. “They are the usual excuses, but he will know what you are doing. If an annulment is the goal, you must invent new reasons.”

“I’ll think of something. Surely we can return to London before I run out of excuses. Then I’ll ask for Geoffrey’s help.”

“Pray your grandpapa never learns what we are doing.”

She groaned. “A chance exists to nullify my marriage. I want to explore the idea at least. What if Alec’s health is better? We have money now and could leave! I can’t do that if I’m married.”

“You have a point. I wish we could take the twins far away from here. A place where your grandpapa would never find us.”

Sabrina’s heart ached, for she and the twins had never been apart. Suddenly she realized how much she took for granted—their incessant chattering and their rebuke of authority. She missed their cherub smiles and bright blue eyes, Alec’s mischievous nature and Christine’s thoughtful demeanor. She also worried Alec’s health would worsen. “Do you think they’re all right? Do you think they miss me? I don’t like being separated from them.”

“Nor I. I miss them, and they are too young to understand if we are absent too long. With the ceremony over, we can finally return to London.”

A knock sounded on the adjoining door.

Sabrina started and wrung her hands. As she looked at her bare fingers, an idea burst forth.

Chapter Five

Gripping the brass doorknob, Hunter knocked again. He glanced at his bed, a massive structure sitting atop a dais, anchored by four turned posts. Gold satin ropes secured the blue velvet drapes that hung from the canopy. No one had ever slept in his bed but him.

Fury burned his insides. Why did he bother knocking? She belonged to him, bought and paid for with his life. No one blackmailed him without punishment. If he were noble, he would thank God for sparing his life and turn his cheek, but he didn’t believe he could. He refused to be a stone beneath Sadlerfield’s feet. Or his wife’s, either.

When no reply came, he cursed. This was his home. She was his wife, and he intended to make Sabrina his in all ways.

He had no choice.

Hunter kicked the door and it bounced against the wall.

“Your lordship!” Sabrina spun around, her hand still on the outer entry.

As he leaned against the doorway, he crossed his arms over his chest. He gave her a casual perusal, one intended to stir his interest more than anything, but to couple under the duke’s command seemed to stifle his base needs. Pushing away from the portal, he stepped into the room, one smelling of gardenias. He eyed the two crocheted buttons at her throat and walked toward her.

Her arm shot out and she took a backward step. “Wait! We should discuss our, uh...situation.”

There was nothing to discuss. She’d blackmailed him and used him for target practice. If circumstances had been in her favor, she would have run from the altar. What was she up to now?

“Anything your aunt didn’t explain, I will.”

Panic flashed in her pale blue eyes, and the determined angle of her jaw put him on alert. “We didn’t start our relationship in a good way. I’d like to feel better about us before...”

“We seal our vows?”

Pink spread across her cheeks. “Yes.”

Pausing, he picked up the bottle of perfume from her dressing table and sniffed the heady scent. “What do you have in mind?”

She let out a long breath. “When we spoke the vows, we were both angry. I want them to...mean more.”

Hunter laughed harshly. “You want to hear endearing words? We’ve one purpose in this marriage. To give your grandfather an heir.”

“A ring might help. I don’t feel that we’re quite married.”

Disbelieving her quiet words, he slammed down the bottle. “You’ve my name. That’s enough. Don’t expect me to spout Lord Byron’s romantic prose or give you sentimental baubles.”

She cast him a solemn look. “Won’t people wonder about my lack of a ring?”

“Don’t use society to blackmail me into giving you a trinket.” Unfortunately, she had a point. With long strides, he closed the distance between them. He reached for her hands, studied her blunted nails and long slender fingers. They trembled in his palm, but he didn’t know the reason. Her skin was rougher than he imagined, and something made him look at her palms. Calluses scarred each, suggesting she hadn’t led a pampered life. He checked his thoughts. Feeling sorry for her had gotten him into this mess.

With his thumb, he rubbed a circle on her third finger. He dropped her hands. “The last time we made a deal, you ran with my money.”

She flashed him a look that appeared to be regret, but then blossomed into desperation. “A little impulsive on my part. Only because my aunt needs to return to her children.”