Page 9 of Outrageous

Eva was struck dumb—and not by his vulgar language—but by his hot eyes, which sent sparks of anticipation through her body. What did he mean? Did he—

His smile shifted into a sneer and he discarded his sensuality quicker than he could discard the snug-fitting coat he wore beneath his corsair robes. Of course his amorous look hadn’t been real; he’d been taunting her—toying with her—just to see if he could.

Eva hated him. And all the other men like him, although none of them had ever been as bad as Visel. But she’d come across plenty of men during the Season who’d been similar. Arrogant men with their superior looks, their knowing smiles—men who thought she couldn’t hear them whisper the words mad and madness behind her back. Except for Visel; he’d always wanted Eva to hear the things he said about her.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he asked. The gleam in his eyes was one she’d seen more than a few times this Season, usually when he’d been taunting her brother. It was the same gleam that had forced her to the conclusion that Visel suffered from some form of male hysteria. After all, he’d been at war for over a decade. What must that do to a man?

But she would save that subject for later.

“Why did you leave the army and come back?” she asked. “I suppose you had to return home now that you’re the duke’s heir,” she said before he could answer. “Still, you should have stayed in the country. Everyone can see you hate London—the Season, the balls, the empty, brainless entertainments. You make no effort to hide the fact you loathe society.”

He shifted on his seat, grimacing at some ache or pain. “I could say the same thing about you, my lady. You sit in the corners of ballrooms with the wallflowers, you behave in ways that gain you the censure of ton matrons, your only associate is a woman from the merchant class with a clear disdain for the society she is trying so hard to enter. So, why do you do it?”

“I wouldn’t expect such a stupid question—not even from you, my lord. I do it because my father makes me do it; because he believes it is a woman’s duty and destiny to marry. If I were a man—” She bit her lip to keep from saying something he would only use against her.

His golden-blond brows lifted, exposing a thin white line that ran through the right one, and his cruel mouth pulled up in a smile that held no humor. “Go on, if you were a man, you would—?”

“Shut up.” Even Eva could hear that her order lacked any heat. The man was irritating and exhausting and she would do best to ignore him. She turned away from him, looking out the window at the iron-gray sky. There would be rain soon.

“I never pegged you for a coward.”

She whipped around and met his derisive gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

The carriage shifted as they stared at one another, the sounds of business outside the door unnaturally loud in the silence. His eyes seemed to have become a colder, icier shade of blue, although she knew that was impossible. She fought the urge to shiver but lost. His lips parted to show white but slightly uneven teeth. One of his front teeth was chipped, a tiny triangle missing from the inside edge where it met its partner. It jarred with the perfection of his features but did not make him any less attractive. Instead, it added a hint of danger to his otherwise too-angelic good looks.

“What is going to happen when the marquess catches us, I wonder?” he mused.

“He won’t.”

“Oh, my dear girl, if you think he will let a man abscond with his daughter without giving chase, you are sorely mistaken.”

His smirky, know-it-all expression made Eva reckless. “He believes I’m at a country house party with my sister. If he even thinks to check on my whereabouts, it will not be for some time. I shall be back by then.”

His brows arched. “Then why bother going all the way to the border? Why not let me out here and you can join your sister now?”

Eva was tempted. He was a treacherous man and she knew he would attempt to escape the moment he saw an opportunity. But it was too soon to release him; she wanted to give Gabe and Dru a couple of weeks if she could. By then they’d be in the country and there would be no opportunity for Visel to bother them, or at least not easily.

“I can see you find the idea appealing.”

She flashed him a hard smile. “I find the idea of you shutting up even more appealing.”

He chuckled, looking genuinely amused by her rudeness. The smooth, deep rumble of laughter hit her in the chest and slithered downward, settling low in her belly. Eva refused to let the effect he had on her body distract her from the business at hand. Men like him—sophisticated, confident, and sexually experienced men—had this effect on women like her, not through any effort of their own, but simply because of their life experience.

The things that took place between men and women were no longer a mystery to Visel. But when it came to bed sport, women of Eva’s class were treated like mushrooms—kept in the dark and fed manure—until the night they were sacrificed to their husbands. Whereas a man like Visel had likely discarded his virginity at an early age, probably foisting himself upon some unfortunate domestic. And then he’d gone on to hone his sexual prowess with whores and widows.

Yes, that was all that separated Eva from Visel: experience. And he used his experience like a weapon that gave him the illusion of sophistication. Luckily for Eva, she had her stepmamma to advise her in such matters. Lady Mia made a concerted effort to inform all three of her stepdaughters about what went on between men and women.

Not that Eva had been completely ignorant before hearing her stepmamma’s interesting information. After all, she’d seen animals coupling many times. She knew about the physical aspect of the act. Of course her stepmamma had certainly expanded on that knowledge. Still, even the best information could not compete with actual experience, and she had none of that. At least not with anyone other than herself.

She’d contemplated, more than once, divesting herself of her bothersome maidenhood—just to see what all the fuss was about. The loss of her virginity would serve the dual purpose of making her unmarketable on the marriage mart; even more unmarketable than the threat of madness that clung to her.

The only reason she hadn’t lain with a man was the possible repercussions of such an action: a child. The scandal of having a child out of wedlock would not bother her in the least. In fact, it would free her of ever having to marry. Also, her father had settled enough money on her that she could raise a child in more security and ease than the Regent’s own bastards. But what she couldn’t give a child was something money would not buy: a future.

She could never have children, either inside marriage or out of it.

“Tell me, what are you thinking, my lady?”