Enchanted by Your Kisses (15 page)

"Ariel."

"Just a little bit of sleep," she murmured. "That is all I need. Then I will deal with you and your devious, tasty drugs later."

"Ariel!"

She closed her eyes and was firmly, blessedly, asleep.

"What have you done to me?" Lady Ariel
D'Archer
asked nearly two hours later. Her hands were tied to the headboard of her bed in her father's town home.

Nathan stared down at her. He sat in an armchair next to her bed, a comfortable fire snapping to his left, darkened window with frilly rose-colored drapes to his right. He'd rather liked the sight of her lying there earlier, though he knew he should not have. He'd had ample opportunity to study her while she slept, ample time to admire her perfection as he reclined next to her bed. Her hair had lain beneath her like black, satin ribbons. Dark lashes inky smudges against alabaster skin. Her face relaxed such as he'd never seen before. Now her eyes glowed with inner fire as they stared up at him. Cheeks that had looked pale moments before were filled with color. His manhood stirred. That she was his enemy and a woman as deceitful as the woman who'd given him his scar deterred his lust not a whit. He'd begun to realize that he would always want Ariel
D'Archer
, even as he would firmly never allow himself to have such a conniving woman.

"Well?" she demanded again.

"Why, nothing but bring you up to this room, my dear." She tried to sit up, but the ropes he'd used wouldn't let her. "Do not try to struggle, for it will do you no good."

"Then I'll scream."

"No one will hear you. I've given your servants an unexpected night off. No doubt they think we mean to have a secret tryst. A good number of them watched me carry you up here, you see."

"You bastard."

"Aye."

"I feel like a fool for not realizing sooner what depths you would sink to."

"That is a bit heavy-handed coming from a woman equally capable of deceit."

"It was nothing less than you deserved."

"And just why did you continue to see me, knowing who I am?"

"I was trying to find out what you were after. Plus, after learning that your offer of friendship was nothing but a sham, I was only too willing to turn the table on you."

She stared up at him, her eyes filled with accusation and hurt. He looked away, telling himself he should not feel guilty. After all, she was only too willing to play a game of deception, too. It only served to confirm what he'd always known. She might have been beautiful, but she had a traitorous heart, like the rest of her sex.

"Well. Do you deny that you were going to use me?"

He looked back at her. "No," he said firmly.

She lifted her chin. "'
Tis
as I thought," he heard her murmur as if there was a part of her that had hoped he'd befriended her out of kindness.

He almost told her that he had not time for kindness. But he held his tongue, his eyes firmly fixed on the emotions crossing her face. Sadness. Anger. Disappointment.

"So, now that we know where we both stand, would you mind untying me?"

"I would mind very much, especially since I have no doubt you will try to escape."

"Bastard," she repeated.

He smiled. "No, just cautious."

She tested the strength of the ropes, clearly uncomfortable with his stare and the bonds. "What do you plan to do with me?"

He forced himself to concentrate. It was the eyes. Those damn, mysterious gypsy eyes. With her staring up at him while lying supine the bed, he suddenly felt rather sordid. "That depends on you."

Her gold eyes narrowed. "How so?"

"If you cooperate, I shall be out of your life within the hour. If, however, you prove to be uncooperative, I shall be forced to use more drastic measures."

"And what is it you want?"

"Information."

She gave him a look of frustration. "As I recall, but I do not see how what is in that room could be of help."

"Let me decide that."

"And if I do not tell you?"

"I will not go easy on you."

"What will you do, hold me hostage?"

"Oh, I don't know if I need go that far, but it is a fascinating possibility."

She compressed her lips. "Cad. Scoundrel. Blackguard."

"Thank you."

"In case you are too much of a
nodcock
to understand, that was not a compliment."

He shrugged, watching with fascination as her face filled with even more angry color.

"You should be shot."

"Indeed? Then pray God you shoot me soon, for I do not think I can take much more of your prattle."

"Why, you—"

"Silence," he ordered.

To his surprise, her mouth clamped closed.

"Tell me how to get into your father's room."

She tilted her chin up. "No."

He lifted black brows. "You would deny me?"

"I will do whatever it takes to thwart you."

"Then you will pay the price."

He saw her eyes widen as he slowly stood up. Good, perhaps he wouldn't need to proceed any further. But she remained stubbornly, obstinately silent as he leaned over the bed. He stood so close he could smell her sensuous, feminine scent.

"Stay back," she ordered.

"No."

She warned him away with a glare. "I will not let you do whatever it is you think to do."

"Do you think yourself strong enough to stop me?" he asked with a mocking smile.

"I shall certainly try."

"Then try."

Her eyes widened as he reached for her shoulders. He made quick work of the rope, holding it in his hands when he was finished.

She must have thought he was going to strangle her with it, for she said, "No," trying to twist away.

He wouldn't let her, his hands going to either side of her body. She'd begun to pant, the motion making her breasts rise and fall enticingly. He tried to ignore the sight, but it proved to be impossible.

"Tell me how to get into the room," he ordered again, glancing down before looking up again. God, but it took an effort to do so. He wanted to lean closer to her. To kiss those plump lips. To stroke her silky flesh.

"I will not."

"Then pay the price." He saw her eyes widen, heard her yelp just before he reached his hands around her waist and slung her over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" she screeched, as her chest hit his shoulder. She beat his back with her fists.

"I am kidnapping you."

Oddly enough, he felt her relax into his shoulder before stiffening again,
"Kidnapping!"

He turned to the door. Obviously she'd thought him about to rape her. But he would never do something so deplorable. Still, touching her as he did now, her breasts snug against his shoulder, her rear high in the air, did things to him that he truly wished not to think about.

"Yes, kidnapping, for if you will not allow me access to the room, or at the very least tell me what is in there, I am left with little choice but to blackmail your father for the information I need."

"Blackmail?" she cried.

"Do you have trouble with your ears?" he asked, shifting her on his shoulder as he exited the room. "Or do you always repeat words back to your captors?"

"Put me down," she ordered, beginning to struggle again. "I do not want you to be my captor."

"That is too bad, my lady." He wasn't sure which way to turn once he left the room. Right or left? Right, he decided.

"Let me down, I said. I can walk."

"I will put you down if you tell me what I wish to know."

"Fine, then I'll tell you."

Immediately he swung her off his shoulder. Her breath
omphed
out of her as she hit her feet. Truth be told, he was relieved to do so. Bloody hell but she enticed him, especially when she looked like she did now, her hair tumbling about her in wild,
gypsylike
disarray. Her eyes flashed fire; her stance was both proud and challenging.

He loved a good challenge. Frankly, he was glad the charade was over. The idea of pretending to befriend her had grown distasteful over the past few days. Now he could do battle as he preferred. Head to head.

"I will tell you how to get into the room, but I will do no more than that."

"Very well."

"And you must promise to let me go afterward."

He narrowed his eyes before saying, "I promise."

She didn't look like she believed him—not surprising, given the events of the past few days.

"Follow me," she said, heading toward the door.

He did as ordered, for some reason amused by her demeanor. She didn't act like a captive. Then again, had he really expected her to?

He followed her down a flight of stairs. The servants had left candles glowing in silver wall sconces. No doubt her staff expected the two of them to take their pleasure and leave. He frowned upon realizing Lady
D'Archer's
clandestine meeting would be all over town by the morning, not that he should care.

He took the last step, following her toward her father's office.

But he did care.

Ridiculous. After tonight he would leave her, and with any luck,
England
, with his brother in hand. For the first time in months he felt himself grow optimistic. His excitement only increased when she lifted a candle from a sconce and entered her father's study.

"Turn around."

"Whatever for?"

"I do not want you to see."

"See what?"

"How I do this."

He crossed his arms, his excitement waning in the face of her ridiculous request. "My lady, perhaps you do not realize this, but you are hardly in a position to order me about. Now, open the door."

"Turn around, I said," she stubbornly repeated.

"Open the door!" he roared.

She jumped, actually jumped, the candle flickering with the motion. He saw her lips tighten, saw her eyes narrow before she crossed to the far wall, opened the glass cover of a grandfather clock, then moved the hands to twelve o'clock.

And just like that it was done.

He heard a click, a snick, and then realized she pushed against the wall as though it was no more than a door. Elation filled him as her candle illuminated a room beyond.

"Move aside," he ordered.

She did as asked.