The Impostor Prince. Tanya Crosby Anne

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СКАЧАТЬ since he had been just a lad that he had blushed over it.

      “I…wasn’t…suggesting anything,” he lied, and shifted in his seat to hide his indecent evidence. Devil hang him if it didn’t suddenly feel as though he’d erected the Tower of London in his trousers.

      She lifted a lovely brow, seeming oblivious to his predicament. “Oh, but I believe you were!” she countered. “And I assure you that it was quite rude.”

      Like a good lady, her eyes never wandered south of his face.

      But, heaven save him, that mouth was thoroughly kissable, managing to further distract him despite his resolve.

      Damnation. Ian willed her focus to remain steady upon his face. In fact, he dared not blink, lest he lose her attention.

      He smiled uncomfortably. “I meant to say only that it isn’t safe for a lovely lady to be carrying such a valuable package. It’s quite remiss of your…merchant…to send you home without proper escort.”

      She ignored his veiled compliment. “What you meant to say is hardly what you implied. It would appear, my lord, that you require an education in the art of social discourse. Furthermore,” she added, “why I happen to be carrying any package—valuable or not—is hardly any of your concern!”

      But her temper did him the greatest of favors. His erection diminished at once.

      Bloody shrew.

      It was clear from the fire in her eyes that she wasn’t quite through with him.

      “First, you run me down,” she pointed out with cool disdain, “then you impugn my character. What next?”

      Her lucid green eyes flashed as she tapped her box. “Will you now rob me?” she asked, clearly quite certain of his answer.

      Ian choked back startled laughter.

      She hadn’t a clue how close she was to the truth of his nature. That box would likely feed and clothe a family of four for a lifetime.

      Both her brows lifted as she prompted, “Well? Shall I hand over my silverware now and save us both the trouble?”

      If only his victims were all so accommodating.

      So many quips might have tumbled from his lips just then, if this had been any other time and she had been any other woman. But he was too weary to voice them.

      She made no move to hand him the box, he noticed with some amusement. Instead, she drew it closer, looking for the entire world as though she would shred him to tatters if he so much as made an advance toward her.

      He half expected her to demand that he halt the carriage at once, no matter what his response.

      Despite his reputation with the ladies, it had been some time since a woman had turned his head, much less warmed his bed. But, bloody hell, no woman had ever made him blush then burn, only to dash him so coldly.

      He studied her stiff posture and wondered if she were a virgin. It was hardly a proper notion to entertain, but then, he’d long ago divested himself of pretensions. One could not engage in highway robbery, after all—no matter how noble the motive—and walk away a perfect gentleman.

      Still, he could be quite charming, he’d been told. So he affected his most disarming tone, hoping for a truce, at least.

      He extended his hand, realizing it was presumptuous but needing to know if her skin was as electric as the air surrounding her. “Madam, it seems I am perpetually apologizing.”

      She eyed his hand as though it were a viper.

      Ian persisted. “Let us begin anew, Miss…”

      She said nothing, merely glowered at him, and continued hugging her box.

      “How is it that your friends address you?” he was bold enough to ask.

      Her hand remained planted upon her battered box and she tipped him a smug glance. “If you were a friend, then you would know, wouldn’t you, sirrah?” She followed that announcement with an haute little nod.

      Whatever response Ian had expected from her, it certainly wasn’t that one.

      He lifted his brows, withdrawing his proffered hand. Clearly, she hadn’t the least interest in furthering their acquaintance.

      Damn it all to hell.

      Apparently, only Ian perceived any attraction between them. She was as frosty as a Scotsman’s arse in winter.

      He tried to remember—and couldn’t—the last time a woman had so thoroughly rebuffed him.

      Considering her refusal to share her name, he didn’t bother to introduce himself; it was a moot point, anyway. He wasn’t who he was pretending to be. And he wouldn’t be in London long enough to make new friends, even though the vixen sitting before him was the most annoying, beautiful fishwife he’d ever encountered. He didn’t need complications. He was here to find answers, not to fill his bed.

      He smiled curtly, resigned to their mutual discord. She returned an equally false smile—one that indicated she was out of patience with him—then turned to stare out the carriage window.

      They continued in silence until they neared Grosvenor Square.

      Ian recognized the stately mansions lining the street. His passenger leaned forward, as though prepared to leap out the door the instant the carriage stopped. He couldn’t blame her. The tension between them now was thicker than a lowland fog.

      Still, he had to accept some measure of responsibility for his actions. He had nearly run her down and he had, in fact, questioned her honor.

      Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew a handkerchief, offering it to her. No matter that he thought her a shrew, he couldn’t let her face her employer with a bloodied, dirtied face.

      Like a white flag of surrender, the hanky caught her attention.

      She lifted those deep green eyes, narrowing them at the offering. “Do I appear to be weeping?” she asked, making no move to take it.

      Ian arched a brow at her.

      She lifted her chin higher. “Simply because I am a woman does not mean that I must sob at the first sign of distress. I am quite all right, thank you very much.”

      Although he tried to keep his amusement at bay, the curve returned to Ian’s lips. “Your chin is bleeding,” he said, and tried not to feel smug at the immediate change in her expression.

      Her eyes widened. “Oh!” She snatched the handkerchief from his hand and said, sounding just a little chagrined, “Thank you. I didn’t realize.”

      The look she gave him was, for the briefest second, entirely too vulnerable. For the first time in his life, Ian hadn’t an inkling how to respond.

      The carriage came to a halt, and just as quickly as the look had appeared, it vanished. She snatched up her box and shoved open the door before Ryo or Ian could assist her.

      “Thank СКАЧАТЬ