Her Perfect Match by Jess Michaels Page A

shocked at this. Everyone knows he is a bastard, but these allegations are much darker than any leveled at him before.”
    “But why would men of your rank know?” she asked with a shake of her head. “It isn’t as if servants take up much space in your mind, do they? Once they disappear below stairs, you forget them entirely. And that is the notion these predators rely upon. No one cares, so no one will stop their behavior. But those of us who walk outside your world, who are closer to servant than to lady of the manor, we know the truth. And I am tired of remaining silent.”
    He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but then his eyes widened and his thoughts became clear. He might hesitate to support her wild plan to destroy a man of rank…but he admired her for the desire to do so. Admired her! She did not think anyone had done that for years, at least not a man.
    His regard warmed her unexpectedly and she turned her face so that he wouldn’t see how meaningful his support was to her. There was no use giving him so much power.
    “What if I…helped you?” he asked when he next spoke.
    That question forced her to pivot in shock to stare at him. “Help me?” she repeated, the words seeming foreign on her tongue.
    He laughed. “Yes, help you. Surely you have heard the term before. It means to come to your aid, be a partner in your plans, render assistance—”
    She lifted a hand to still his teasing words. “Yes, I know what the word help means, Benedict! But you cannot be serious.”
    “I am utterly serious,” he said, his brow wrinkling with trouble and confusion.
    “It is a noble suggestion, of course, but it could only bring you grief. Do not forget, you have a reputation that is even more steeped in your actions than even mine is. Your family, your brother , they will surely disapprove, as will three-quarters of the ton , even if they discovered the truth of what the bastard is doing.”
    Benedict pursed his lips. “You think so little of those of my rank.”
    “I have known a great many of them,” she said, her tone filled with more bitterness than perhaps she had intended.
    He frowned. “So you lump me in with them, then?”
    Her lips parted at the true hurt in his expression. And her surprise extended to her own reaction, as well. In truth, she did not put Benedict in the same category as his cohorts. She never had.
    “No,” she said, reaching for his hand despite the danger in touching him during this highly charged exchange. “Of course not.”
    “Then will you not allow that perhaps I am tired of remaining silent, as well? Injustice should not be tolerated by anyone!”
    She pursed her lips as she tried to think of some way to dissuade him from joining her cause. For both their sakes. But she could think of none save one.
    “And you are looking for a wife,” she said, trying to maintain some tone of innocence as she brought up the subject. “Women like a hero.”
    She hoped that her reminder would set him back from this course she intended to follow. And when his face fell slightly, she thought her reminder had done just that.
    He moved toward her and lifted her hand to his chest. “Let us not speak about wives.”
    She blinked. Some part of her recognized that she should do just what he asked her not to do. She should press on the subject of his intention to marry until it drove him away.
    But she couldn’t. Even if she should, even if he needed to hear it, even if there were a thousand reasons. She couldn’t. There was something in Benedict, just as there had always been, that made her surrender.
    “Then shall we talk about our takedown of the bastard instead?” she whispered, suddenly aware of how close they were, how he was still shirtless, how her body reacted to his heat and his scent.
    He shook his head, leaning closer. “Later,” he murmured.
    Then his mouth was on hers again and she spiraled into a dark cavern of pleasure where nothing else existed