Sins and Scandals Collection. Nicola Cornick

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then?”

      Oh, this man was provoking. More than that, he was infuriating. Because she knew she did not have a leg to stand on. She had kissed him, after all, not the other way about. It had been an impulse, a desperate attempt to dissuade John Hagan, her husband’s cousin, who had been becoming ever more persistent and disturbingly importunate in his attentions over the past few weeks. Trust her to choose the one man in London who not only called her bluff but also raised the stakes by claiming her as his mistress.

      “I think you will find,” she said coldly, “that in announcing our apparent liaison you will have created quite a stir in the ton. John Hagan will waste no time in spreading the scandal. I cannot believe that was what you intended when you came to condole with me.”

      “I merely took my cue from you.” His dark eyes studied her, again disconcertingly keen and thorough. There was no liking in them nor the admiration to which she was accustomed, nothing but cool, calculating consideration. Had he really been David’s friend? It seemed extraordinary to her. He was steady where David had been quicksilver, slipping through the fingers. The set of his mouth was firm and decisive where David had been weak and easily swayed. Every angle of Alex’s face looked hard, as though chiseled from the rock of his Scots heritage.

      “So why did you kiss me then?” His voice had the faintest of Scots lilt, too. It sounded exotic. “I asked you before but it seems you have a bad habit of failing to answer those questions you dislike.”

      Damn him, he had noticed that as well, had he? She raised her chin.

      “I needed to … persuade John Hagan to cease his attentions to me,” she said. She folded her arms tightly about her body in an attempt to ward off the fear that chilled her whenever John Hagan was close by. “He is David’s cousin,” she explained, “and as such he claims to be the head of the family now.”

      “So he seeks to take his cousin’s widow as well as his place?”

      Joanna’s eyes narrowed at his tone. “As you heard.”

      “You came up with a somewhat extreme solution.”

      Joanna’s skin prickled with antagonism at the disbelief that rang clear in his voice. “He would not accept a more subtle dismissal. He has been importuning me for weeks.”

      “Then it is fortunate I was here. Or would you have called in one of the servants-one of your handsome matching footmen-and kissed him instead?”

      Temper flickered through Joanna. She had seldom felt so discomposed. There was something about this man that cut straight through her defenses, something so provocative that got under her skin. She could not deny that he was disturbingly, fatally attractive, but she had absolutely no wish to succumb to that attraction. Men, she had discovered, were generally more trouble than they were worth. Dogs were preferable. Max, lying so sweetly on his tasseled cushion, loved her with an uncomplicated devotion that far outstripped any attentions she had ever received from fickle males.

      “My footmen are handsome, are they not?” she said sweetly. “Although I did not expect you to admire them, too.”

      “You mistake.” Alex sounded amused. “It was an observation only-that you surround yourself with attractive and expensive items. The footmen, the dog …” His gaze swept around the library, over the bowl of lilies that Joanna had arranged so carefully as a centerpiece on the rosewood table and the elegant china displayed on the mantelpiece and her collection of watercolors. For some reason his scrutiny made Joanna feel lacking in some way, as though she was shallow, with tastes to match. She had always been pleased with her style and her flair for design. Damn him for disparaging them.

      “I also hear that you were the darling of the ton,” he said. “I am sure that is no lie. I hope it pleases you.”

      “It is most gratifying.” She had never sought to be a leader of society, but somehow popularity and prominence had come her way anyway. In truth, what had happened was that she had used her friends and acquaintances to ward off the loneliness of being abandoned by her husband for years on end and she had come to value the life she had carved out for herself. In all the nine years of their marriage she calculated that she had been with David for perhaps a fifth of the time, possibly less. In contrast, her closest friends were always there for her.

      “You had a similar celebrity when you were last in London,” she reminded Alex sharply. Three years before, David and Alex had returned from some naval expedition to the South Americas with tales of hacking their way through dense jungle, discovering ancient ruins and being attacked by strange and wild creatures. At least David had boasted of it, displaying the teeth marks some giant cat had made on his arm. Joanna had uncharitably wished it had eaten him rather than being shot for its pains. She had hated the way in which David had reveled in his celebrity, rolling home drunk from some brothel at dawn, reeking of perfume and with some whore’s cosmetics smeared all over him. It seemed so cheap. David had bragged his way around London from the gambling tables to the ballrooms to the bawdy houses. He had been brash and vulgar, but people had excused it as part of his larger-than-life character, David Ware the hero, beloved by all men. Pain and loss twisted inside her. When she had wed she had expected her life to be so different, with a loving husband and a brood of children. She had been quite remarkably naive.

      Alex, in contrast, she seemed to recall, had scorned the ton’s excited fawning and had escaped to Scotland instead whilst his comrade took all the credit for their exploits and enjoyed all the fame. And now she saw Alex’s firm mouth had turned down at the corners with distaste to be reminded of his illustriousness.

      “I do not seek celebrity.” He made it sound as though she had suggested he was engaged in some activity that was illegal or repellent or possibly both at the same time. “You will not see me courting the ton whilst I am here. Indeed, I plan to leave London as soon as I have my orders from the Admiralty.”

      “I will have to dismiss you from my bed first,” Joanna said waspishly, “since you have announced to all society that you occupy it.”

      Once again he gave her that disconcerting, wholly unexpected smile. It was the look of an adversary not an admirer. “I imagine you will enjoy that,” he murmured.

      “I shall.”

      “How will you dismiss me?”

      Joanna put her head on one side and considered him thoughtfully. “I am not certain. Be assured that it will be public and humiliating, though, and you will probably be the last in society to know. It is the least that you deserve for embarrassing me so.”

      His smile deepened. “It was worth it.”

      Joanna gritted her teeth. She was known for her glacial coolness and was certainly not going to let this man change that. She knew Alex had only claimed to be her lover in order to punish her for her presumption in using him. It was a salutary lesson not to tangle with him. However far she went, he would go further.

      But for now he would go out her front door and she would be glad to see him leave.

      She held out her hand to him.

      “Well, Lord Grant, I thank you for calling and I wish you well on your future travels.”

      He took her hand again. It had probably been a mistake to offer it, for the sensation of his touch rippled along her nerves, making her tremble. For one mad moment she thought that he was going to kiss her again and her heart started to race. She could almost feel the seductive warmth of his mouth against

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