A Dangerous Love. Brenda Joyce

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СКАЧАТЬ seen his lovers checking their jewelry in the morning, to see if he had stolen anything from them.

      And every gadjo he did business with expected to be cheated. He had never cheated anyone but he toyed with the newcomers ruthlessly; those with whom he’d conducted his affairs for years understood that he was an honest man.

      He had never been a hateful man. He expected bigotry, for he had grown up with it. He could not recall the last time the words “dirty Gypsy” had really hurt him—maybe when he was a young boy, or maybe when he had first been forced to Woodland. Long ago, his heart had turned to stone. He was different from them, and he had always known that and accepted it. He might sit at their supper tables, or even, once in a great while, dance at their balls, but he was an outsider. Their scorn meant little when he was richer and more powerful than most of them, when he needed no one but himself.

      Their differences had now become glaring. His life was a pretense that was no longer tolerable. He would not accept the bigotry now.

      Their scorn and hatred had killed Raiza.

      There had to be revenge.

      He was staring up at the de Warenne house. The de Warenne woman was innocent, but she was one of them. In fact, she epitomized English society, with her beauty, heritage and wealth. She had sent him a sexual invitation, even if she hadn’t known it. He remained English enough to have refused her, but the Rom part of him could not help but calculate the seduction and envision the conquest. To take a virgin like Ariella de Warenne, use her and return her used, sending her to her betrothed that way, was more than budjo— it was revenge.

      It would be so easy….

      The English part of him was horrified.

      ARIELLA SAT in the window seat of the bay window. The lush lawns and blooming gardens extended below, but she saw neither. She stared instead at the Gypsy encampment, which she could see clearly from where she sat.

      Their horses were loose, grazing at will. Colorful wagons remained where they had been left last night. There was no sign of preparations for their departure.

      She hugged her knees to her chest. She hadn’t slept at all; she hadn’t even tried. She had changed her clothes and slipped into her current position, vibrating with tension. She was worried. Emilian was a stranger, but last night she had danced in his arms and he had given her a glimpse of passion. She had never been attracted to any man before, and now she was drawn, like a moth to the flame. Wasn’t he drawn, too?

      He intended to leave with the Romany—to simply walk away, as if nothing had happened between them.

      It hurt. Even if society thought her odd, her stature as a de Warenne heiress guaranteed her acceptance wherever she went. Proper gentlemen both desired and feared her, but Emilian had rejected her.

      How could she convince him to change his mind and begin a friendship with her? Her heart raced at the thought. She was beyond distraction, really, and not just because of his kiss. Ariella was uncertain of many things regarding Emilian, but one thing she knew without question: she couldn’t walk away from him, not yet.

      And she couldn’t let him walk out of her life as abruptly as he’d appeared in it, no matter what he intended.

      What was happening to her? Could she have fallen in love at first sight? There were quite a few de Warenne men and women who had instantly fallen in love, or so family myth claimed. The de Warennes were notorious for falling wildly and absolutely in love—once and forever.

      “Ariella!” Dianna pounded on her door. “Can I come in? Are you awake? Alexi is here. He came with Aunt Lizzie and Margery!”

      Before she could respond, Dianna came inside. “Wake up, sleepy…” She stopped. “You are up! Oh, of course you are. You are usually the first one up in the house.” Her smile faded and she stared closely.

      Ariella knew then that her tension and excitement showed. She forced a smile. All she could think was that Alexi would discover her new secret if she wasn’t careful.

      He was her half brother and her elder by two years. His Russian mother, a countess, had handed him off to their father at birth, as neither she nor her husband cared to have her bastard son remain in their family. They had grown up together with their father on Jamaica Island, and he was far closer to her than any full sibling could be. He was her dearest friend, her brother, her protector. He would take one look at her and demand to know what was wrong.

      Panic arose. If he ever learned of her tryst with Emilian, he would try to kill him. He was that protective of her.

      “What is wrong? Are you ill?” Dianna asked, coming close and touching her cheek.

      “I couldn’t sleep,” Ariella said truthfully. “I doubt I slept at all last night.”

      For one moment, Dianna stared as if she knew the truth. “It was their music, wasn’t it?” she said, low. “I heard it, too. It took me a while to fall asleep. There must have been dancing.”

      Ariella thought there was innuendo in her sister’s words, but surely that was not the case. “I don’t know.”

      Dianna sat down on a blue-and-white-striped ottoman. “They say that is what they do—dance and sing all night long.”

      “I don’t think we should accept rumors as fact,” Ariella said. The moment she spoke, she heard how cross she sounded. She stood, hoping Dianna had not noticed her harsh tone.

      “My, you are a grouch today. Are you coming downstairs to see Alexi?”

      Ariella prayed she could pretend that all was as it should be now. “Of course.” But as she followed Dianna down the wide, central staircase, the steps covered with a red and gold Persian runner, she heard her brother’s voice. His tone was hard.

      “I cannot believe Father would allow them to stay on our property.”

      Ariella tensed. Alexi was obviously speaking about the Romany. He traveled the world extensively, as he had global shipping interests, and he spoke often about cultures different from their own with interest, not suspicion or prejudice. She was taken aback by his words and tone.

      He whirled, smiling. “There she is!” His white teeth flashed in his handsome, swarthy face. Tall and broad-shouldered, his eyes were the brilliant blue shared by so many de Warenne men. Like his male cousins, he had been a notorious rakehell before his marriage—unlike his male cousins, he remained a notorious rakehell even after marriage. Five years ago, he had wed their childhood friend, Elysse O’Neil, to save her from scandal—and had abandoned her at the altar immediately after taking his vows. Needless to say, that had caused an even greater scandal. As far as Ariella knew, neither husband nor wife had set eyes upon each other since.

      He strode to her, but before he could embrace her, his smile faded and his stare became searching. “What is wrong?” he asked instantly.

      “Is Elysse with you?” she queried, hoping to distract him. Besides, she loved Elysse as a sister and wished she were happily married to Alexi.

      His face hardened. “Do not start.”

      Nothing had changed. Whatever had happened, Alexi would never forgive Elysse and never forget. She sighed and hugged him, standing on tiptoe to do so. “You are such an СКАЧАТЬ