Compromising Miss Milton

His captive moved her hand upwards and silently tried to break free.

Adam regarded her with a jaundiced eye. The fates were definitely laughing at him. He had asked for help as he had struggled against the current, and this is what had appeared—a governess, someone who was more concerned about propriety and giving lip service than actually aiding anyone. Or, worse yet, a parody of a governess intent on harm. She had been about to search him for valuables. He was certain of it. The woman was no angel of mercy, but a black-hearted harpy.

‘Who sent you here?’ he asked, grinding out the words. ‘You might as well confess. I will find out in the end.’

‘Let go of my wrist,’ the woman said, her hideous straw bonnet slipping to one side and her golden-brown hair tumbling free.

Her tones were clear and precise like a bell, echoing in his mind, reminding him of someone, someone he should know. Adam willed his mind to clear. He had never seen this woman before. Ever. He would have remembered the eyes and the heart-shaped face.

‘Let. Me. Go. Now. Before I scream very loudly indeed.’

Adam concentrated on tightening his grip. It would come to him in a moment, the connection. He drew in a breath and his body protested once again at the pain of moving. He had thought lying in the river that he might have been in India again, lying in a pool of blood, waiting for the final blow, when he had been unable to get to Kamala, but had desperately wanted to. When he still thought Kamala might have feelings for him and he could redeem his earlier failure.

He was supposed to die then but didn’t. If he could cheat death once, he could do it again. But he had to know if this woman was friend or foe.

‘I am warning you.’ The woman tapped her foot and her eyes shot sparks. ‘Cease this nonsense immediately.’

‘I doubt anyone will hear you, save the odd sheep. Possibly a hawk.’ He permitted a smile to cross his lips and promptly regretted the pain. ‘Unless you have friends nearby.’

‘Friends?’ Her voice went up an octave and her being quivered. ‘Do you think I would have dragged you from the river if I could have sent a man? I saved your life—an act of mercy and one I will regret to my dying day.’

Adam levered his body to a sitting position and concentrated on the frivolous daisies embroidered on his captive’s gloves. Would a governess really wear such gloves in contrast to her severe costume? Not any that he encountered. But then the ones he remembered had too-big teeth or casts in their eyes. And their figures were not like this woman’s.

Suddenly he wanted done with it, to face his enemy instead of having him lurk in the shadows. He nodded towards the river and empty riverbank on the other side.

‘Go head, scream. Or else keep silent.’ Adam glared at her. ‘My head aches enough as is. I have no desire to hurt you. I only require a few answers—Answers you will give me sooner or later.’

She caught her bottom lip with neat white teeth, worrying it, but no sound emerged from her throat.

‘Thank you for confirming my view that you have no intention of screaming,’ Adam continued. ‘It always pleases me when I read women correctly.’

Her lips curved upwards, transforming her face, making it seem far too lively. ‘You harbour odd beliefs.’

‘It is never good to make threats that you do not intend to follow through. If you were going to scream, you would have screamed immediately and without warning. Perhaps you are hoping for a kiss.’

‘Do you always follow through on your threats?’ Her voice held the faintest tremor.

‘On my threats and my promises.’ Adam dropped his voice to seductive purr. There was more than one way to get an answer from a woman. ‘The kiss is a promise.’

Her cheeks flushed. ‘I have no desire…’

‘Ah, you wish to test my theory.’ Adam smiled. This supposed governess was behaving exactly like other women. It was disappointing in a way. He had hoped for more.

‘Please,’ she whispered.

Adam touched her shoulder and felt the black stuff give way under his touch and the warmth rise up from her. Her large grey-green eyes met his. A sense of satisfaction went through him.

Her next move would be a few false pleas combined with batted lashes and a single tear down her face to elicit pity and to appeal to his better nature. But that nature had vanished seven years ago in India. He would discover which of his enemies had sent her. And then they would pay. Slowly.

‘Shall we begin?’ he asked. ‘And I want the truth.’

She leant forwards, so that her mouth was inches from his. Her eyes danced with a sudden light. ‘Yes, let’s.’

Her piercing shriek rose and echoed back from the rocks above the waterfall, paining his ears.

He raised an eyebrow and glared up at her, concentrating on the few escaping tendrils of dark brown hair rather than the superior expression. ‘Did the scream make you feel better?’

‘Only if it hurt your ears. Like you, I keep my promises. I have been a governess for long enough to know how to handle awkward children.’

‘I am not a child. I am a grown man.’ The instant the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He sounded like he was not yet in long trousers. He concentrated on keeping hold of her wrist.

‘Behave like one and let me go.’ Her eyes flashed, transforming her face and making him want to stare. There was something so alive about the woman. ‘Shall we repeat the exercise or do you release me?’

Most women of his acquaintance would have fainted by now, or at the very least declared their intent to faint, but not this woman. She appeared positively triumphant in her scream.

He cocked his head slightly, his body stilling. Adam’s fingers itched to shake her shoulders until she revealed everything, but he remained in control of his emotions and waited for her next move and to see what aid came to her rescue.

The woods were silent. No one was coming. Was she innocent? Could he take the chance?

‘Are you always this stubborn? Who knows who you could have alerted?’

Her chin tilted upwards. ‘It is my intention to alert someone. There are laws against this sort of behaviour. Molesting women.’

‘Someone? Someone in particular? Who?’

‘Does it matter?’ Her bonnet ribbons trembled slightly.

‘You can tell me. Who sent you? What secrets am I supposed to tell?’ He pulled her close, so that each one of her eyelashes was highlighted against her pale skin. Up close and unencumbered by the shadow of the bonnet, her face was striking—thin curved eyebrows, a straight nose and full lips that did more than hint at passion. ‘Give me his name. Who is your lover? Where does he hide? What does he want from me? What does he seek?’

‘I am unmarried, sir!’

‘Marriage has never been a requirement for taking a lover.’

‘It is with me.’ Her nostrils quivered with indignation and her cheeks flamed pink. ‘That is to say, I wish for no other lover than my eventual husband.’

‘And does he have a name? This fiancé of yours?’

‘I have no fiancé.’

‘No lover, no fiancé and no prospects. Is it any wonder you are a governess?’

‘I am a virtuous woman, whereas you are naught but a scoundrel and a rake.’

‘A woman of virtue! Truly a rare prize!’

‘My elbows are quite sharp.’ Her voice became shrill. ‘And I will not hesitate to use any means at my disposal to fight you. To the death if necessary. What is a woman when she has lost her virtue?’

‘What is she, indeed?’ Adam lifted his other hand and traced a finger down the rim of her bonnet. An errant curl brushed against it, surprising him with its softness. ‘More interesting? Yes, a woman who has lost her virtue is infinitely more intriguing.’