Historical Romance Boxed Set (9 page)

When Nathaniel had set their dishes outside the door, he removed his shirt, exposing broad shoulders that tapered to a lean waist. A matting of dark hair covered his chest, trailing down his flat stomach to a mysterious end somewhere below his belt.

Alexandra had to fight the impulse to stare. This man was a criminal. He had abducted her. Yet she could not explain the tremor that went through her at the sight of his naked torso.

With effort, she pulled her gaze away and had him lie across the bed. She was not experienced with massage to any great extent, though sometimes her fellow needlewomen relieved the aches and pains caused from long hours of sitting by rubbing one another’s backs. Alexandra felt somewhat confident she could improvise from there. Of course, Nathaniel expected her to have received many massages over her lifetime. Such luxury was a favorite pastime of the aristocracy.

Nathaniel’s back was smooth and tanned to a honey brown. Though Alexandra couldn’t help noticing his narrow hips, firm buttocks and long legs, it was his deformed arm that held her interest the longest. It was misshapen, to be sure, but it wasn’t a hideous appendage. The same golden skin covered it as the other.

“What’s wrong?” Nathaniel’s eyes seemed to measure Alexandra carefully. “Are you going to give me a massage, or do you share our father’s distaste for my deformity?”

Alexandra glanced away, embarrassed to have been caught gaping at him. “I was just wondering how I was going to get you off the bed should you fall asleep on it,” she lied.

“You wouldn’t get me off. You’d run away. That’s why I won’t fall asleep.”

Alexandra smiled in spite of herself. He thought he had guessed her plan. Perhaps she could surprise him.

Climbing onto the bed, she positioned herself on her knees for maximum strength, then began to smooth out the corded muscles in Nathaniel’s back and neck. An occasional sigh told her she was successful in her desire to relax him, and to her surprise, she soon found herself enjoying her work. Nathaniel’s physical attributes were exceptional, from his thick black hair to his cleft chin. And there was something sensual about the way he smelled—all dust and sweat, leather and horses.

As Alexandra’s hands glided over his warm skin, she wondered about the vendetta between Nathaniel and the Duke of Greystone. Why did Nathaniel hate his father so badly? Why would he risk a hangman’s noose to capture his sister? And what would he do when he finally learned that she was not Lady Anne?

Alexandra dismissed the last question as irrelevant. She wouldn’t be around to find out. She’d be well on her way to London and to the safety of her aunt.

Nathaniel’s eyes closed, and Alexandra felt the tension leave his body. She doubted he was asleep, but she only needed to dull his reaction by a fraction of a second. Keeping one hand working the muscles on each side of his spine, she reached back for the stiletto he kept in his right boot.

Groaning softly when her fingers touched a particularly tender spot, Nathaniel shifted as if to make himself more comfortable. Alexandra almost had the knife. Gently lifting the leg of his pant, she quickly grasped the handle and pulled. The stiletto slid easily from its place, but Nathaniel’s reflexes were quicker than her own. He had her on her back, pinned beneath him, before she could threaten him in any way.

“It would seem my massage is being cut short, so to speak.” He grinned, squeezing her hand until she dropped the knife. “Too bad. It felt good while it lasted, perhaps proving that even you have a few redeeming talents. Now I shall enjoy a good night’s rest while you languish on the floor.”

“You had no intention of giving me the bed. You were only using it to bait me.”

“Let’s just say that I have now learned what I needed to know. At least I won’t feel guilty while you sit on the floor, tied like a dog to the post.”

Alexandra tried to free her hands from his punishing grip. She wanted to wipe that enraging smirk off his face. “I’ll scream if you bring that rope near me.”

“Then I’ll gag you. For someone who hates a hood, you’re willing to risk much.”

“You’re a cad.”

“Which is far better than a fool, and a fool I’d be to let you get the better of me.”

His eyes glittered like sun glinting off a blue sea, and Alexandra realized that Nathaniel might be many things, but a fool he was not. He had the senses of a cat, and the athletic prowess to match.

“Let me up,” she said. “You’re hurting me.”

“Certainly.” Kicking the knife far away from her reach, Nathaniel let her go. “No doubt you’re ready to retire, now that sleeping arrangements have been made.”

Almost before Alexandra knew her own mind, her hand lashed out and slapped Nathaniel’s jeering face. They both rocked back, surprised when her palm hit its target with such force. A red welt appeared almost instantly.

“I’m glad you’re so eager to deserve whatever treatment you receive,” he said, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her to the foot of the bed. “I was going to leave you enough rope to lie down, but with your peculiar brand of wisdom, you’d only hang yourself with it.”

“No!” Unwilling to suffer the pain and degradation of being tied up all night, Alexandra began to struggle again. But it was only a matter of minutes before her hands were bound in front of her and then tied to the bed. As Nathaniel had promised, she didn’t have enough rope to lie down.

“You’d better hope I don’t get free,” she threatened. “ You have to sleep sometime.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he replied. “Perhaps I’m giving you too much credit, but if you do manage to get loose, it wouldn’t be a good idea to bother with me. The door is that way.”

“Oh… you! You’re insufferable!” Bringing her knees up between her arms, Alexandra laid her head down and tried to block Nathaniel from her consciousness. She soon realized, however, that she would have to address him again.

“You’ve got to untie me. I’ve got to…” she stopped, wondering how to tell him what she needed. “A lady needs a little privacy occasionally.”

He crossed the room and retrieved the chamber pot from its place behind a cloth curtain in one corner of the room.

“You’re not going to untie me?” Alexandra asked in surprise.

“You don’t deserve it.”

“But how will I—”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I deserve to take care of natural bodily functions without you watching my every move.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I have no interest in watching you.” He stretched out on the bed, lying on his stomach, his face buried in the crook of his arm.

Alexandra made no move until she thought Nathaniel was asleep. “Boar… ogre,” she muttered to herself. “I hope your father catches you and hangs you from the tallest tree.”

He didn’t respond.

She pulled and twisted on the rope, but the knot proved tight and well made. She only managed to jerk the bed a few inches from the wall.

“Hold still,” Nathaniel snapped, rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his arm.

Alexandra glared at him. “There will come a time, when I will even the score.”

“Plan your revenge tomorrow,” he told her. “Get some sleep. You might need it.”

With a sigh of defeat, Alexandra waited as long as she could before relieving herself. Then she eyed the screen dubiously, wondering how to return the pot to where it belonged. She certainly had no desire to sleep with it.

Suddenly a wicked thought made her lips curl into a smile. Grabbing the enamel pot around the base, she prepared to launch it right on top of Nathaniel, smelly contents and all, when a cutting voice gave her pause.

“You can’t imagine the terror of what I will do to you if you don’t put that thing down immediately.”

So he was awake. Alexandra’s smile withered. He didn’t move to stop her, didn’t so much as remove his arm from across his eyes, but she got the feeling he was almost daring her to incur his full wrath.

She clung to the pot for a long time, so sorely tempted that she had a difficult time letting wisdom overtake desire. When she finally set it down, she did so carefully, to ensure it wouldn’t splash on her, then pushed it as far under the bed as she could. If she made Nathaniel too angry, she’d start a fight she could only lose. And she didn’t want to incite his imagination as to the possibilities of what a strong man could do to a captive woman. He was a scoundrel if ever she’d met one. But he was right about one thing. Tomorrow was another day, and she’d do her best to make it as miserable for him as possible.

Chapter 4

Nathaniel feigned sleep until Anne finally nodded off. He couldn’t rest while she sat on the floor without so much as a blanket. That he admired her despite himself enraged him. She was certainly unlike the women of her class, most of whom were priggish and without an enlightened thought in their heads.

Anne was quick-witted, courageous, and demonstrative. Nathaniel glanced with chagrin at his bandaged hand. Not many women he knew, or men for that matter, would have risked what she did to attract the attention of that brougham. It was a smart move. She knew he couldn’t harm her if he wanted to trade her for Richard. She had taken a calculated risk, and Nathaniel considered himself lucky that it hadn’t panned out for her.

He frowned, glancing down at the foot of the bed where Anne’s head kept nodding off its perch upon her knees. She was indeed a brave girl. Every victory he obtained at her expense was hard-won. Perhaps he could be a little easier on her.

Nathaniel untied the rope around the post, cursing himself for being a softhearted fool. Using his good arm for strength and his stump for balance, he gently lifted Anne and laid her on the other side of the bed. She stirred but didn’t come fully awake. Then he fastened the rope to the post above her head and covered her with blankets.

Lying back down, Nathaniel moved carefully so he wouldn’t wake her. It had been a long day. He watched his captive curl into a ball, giving the appearance of almost childlike innocence, and felt a flicker of desire at the sight of her more feminine curves.

Shocked by his body’s effrontery, he quickly diverted his thoughts. Anne was his sister. Beyond that, she had been raised with everything he had been denied—the money, the power, the family. He should hate her.

And he did, Nathaniel told himself. It was just that any woman so fair of face and form would make his pulse quicken. But when he fell asleep he dreamed of long blond hair spilling down onto his naked chest. And the woman above him was Anne.

He woke suddenly, disgusted that his subconscious would betray him with such incestuous fantasy. It had been too long since he had enjoyed the company of the fairer sex, he decided. Planning to remedy that as soon as he could and thereby put a quick end to the madness of his mind, he shifted in the bed to ease a cramped muscle and felt Anne’s womanly softness pressed to his backside. She had migrated the full length of the rope toward him, instinctively searching for the warmth his body radiated.

Nathaniel swallowed hard as the flicker of desire he had experienced earlier flared again, fanned by his dream and the wonderful feel of her. Anne had no idea where she was, he knew, and he smiled to think of how she might react if she were to awaken at this moment.

No doubt she’d try to hit him again. He touched his cheek where she had slapped him earlier and decided he was glad her hands were tied.

Anne murmured something unintelligible, then snuggled more closely against him. He decided not to disturb her. Though he dared not allow himself to touch the flesh that molded so comfortably to his side, the light scent of perfume that clung to her clothes was a treat in itself.

* * *

Alexandra woke by degrees. Sun filtered into the room through a large gap in the draperies, which had been drawn across the window. For a moment she imagined herself in her own bed. She burrowed deeper into the quilts, luxuriating in their warmth, until something, or rather someone, moved. Then the events of the previous day came back to her in a flood of remembering. Nathaniel! What was he up to now?

Her eyelids flew open, but she couldn’t see him. He was behind her, his chest to her back, his legs curving beneath her buttocks. The last thing she recalled was the cold, hard floor. How did she come to be in his bed?

Lying very still, Alexandra listened as Nathaniel’s slow, regular breathing tickled the hair above her ear. His body was relaxed, formed comfortably to her own. She was certain he was asleep. But he was more like a black panther than a man. Sleek, well muscled, always wary, he could pounce anytime. She’d have to be very careful.

Cautiously inching away, Alexandra wondered again how she came to be in that cozy spot. She had never been so close to a man. Willy had kept her closeted away, toiling in the house or garret. The pleasures typically associated with intimacy remained a complete mystery, but the feelings she’d experienced in those first moments of wakefulness had spoken volumes. She had felt more content, more complete, than ever before. In a way, that revelation frightened her almost as much as Nathaniel did. If all men were like her stepfather, they weren’t to be trusted.