The Wicked Baron by Sarah Mallory Page A

listened carefully. There was no sound from the corridor so she walked over to the window. As she gazed out on to the walled garden, she wondered what madness had possessed her to challenge Luke; surely it was better to ignore him, even to avoid him, until this pain in her heart had diminished to a manageable ache. With a sigh she rested her forehead on the cold glass.
    ‘So, the vixen shows her teeth.’
    Carlotta jumped. Lithe as a cat, Luke had come silently into the room. She swung round to face him. Words of apology sprang to her lips, but she bit them back; his face in the moonlight was as hard and cold as marble. It was too late for soft words. She lifted her chin to gaze at him defiantly. ‘I said nothing untoward.’
    ‘But you implied much,’ he said, coming towards her.
    She curled her lip. ‘You are called the Wicked Baron; much is expected of you.’
    He came closer and Carlotta stepped back until she felt the window pressing against her shoulders.
    ‘Then I am afraid I must disappoint you,’ he murmured.
    He was less than arm’s length from her and Carlotta forced herself not to move.
    ‘I am not afraid of you.’
    She was rigid with nerves, and her voice shook a little. Luke’s teeth gleamed, but she could discern no humour in his look, no softening of those harsh features.
    ‘Well, you should be. You should be very afraid.’
    He reached out and placed his fingers on her shoulder, then drew them down along the embroidered neckline of her dress. Carlotta’s nerves were stretched to breaking. At his touch her breasts tightened and rose. Against her will they were inviting his caresses. She clenched her hands,digging the nails into the palms. She wanted to run, but some instinct told her that such an action would inflame an already dangerous situation.
    ‘If—if you try to kiss me, I shall scream.’
    He came even closer. Carlotta fought down the urge of her wayward body to close the gap, to lean forward and press herself against him. His eyes held hers and she knew he would see her fear reflected in them. She could not breathe; Luke, too, was taut as a bowstring, the atmosphere between them so brittle only one wrong word could shatter their control and that, she knew, would be disastrous. They gazed at one another, Luke towering over her, dark and menacing. Carlotta’s lips parted as he leaned towards her. Her head tilted; unable to prevent it, she was offering him her mouth to kiss. Then, when it seemed inevitable, when her very being was screaming to feel his mouth against hers, he stepped back and gave a little laugh.
    ‘Oh, no, Carlotta, you shall not have the pleasure of my embraces again: that time is past.’ His words, the cold tone, hit her like icy water. She leaned back against the window, the cold glass on her skin the only link with reality as he continued. ‘But I shall watch your progress, my dear, and if you should manage to catch a rich husband, perhaps I shall disclose what delights await him. And you were delightful, my dear, that one time at Malberry.’
    She ran her tongue across her dry lips. ‘W-we did nothing wrong.’
    His smile grew, but it was as cold as the moonlight. ‘You were alone, at night, in an empty house with the Wicked Baron—do you think any man would believe I did nothing more than kiss you?’ He took her chin between his thumband fingers and forced her to look at him. ‘You know I am right, my dear.’
    Angrily she knocked his hand away. ‘I know nothing of the sort!’
    ‘Believe that if you want to, Carlotta, but I know enough about you to ruin your chances of making a good match.’
    ‘Then you are wicked indeed, my lord.’
    He merely laughed, turned on his heel and walked away. Shivering uncontrollably, Carlotta sank down against the window and wrapped her arms about her.
     

    Luke strode back through the corridor, wondering what had come over him. He had grown used to jesting and teasing during his years in the army, so why had Carlotta’s