Page 17 of Outrageous

Eva squawked and instantly began to struggle, thrashing and pounding on his legs, which were like bands of iron. “Let me go, you brute, you’re squeezing me. Let me go!” She punctuated her words by hammering her fists on his shins.

“I don’t think so, darling.” The voice was distinct, certainly not that of a man who was gagged.

What?

Powerful legs drew her inexorably away from the flapping door, until he caught her with his hands and pulled her tight against his body. His arms replaced his legs and she found herself held in a viselike grip.

“Now, now. Quit thrashing or you’ll hurt yourself. And you don’t want me to have to tie you up, do you?”

Eva bit her lip to keep from yelling. “Let. Me. Go.”

He laughed, his big, hard body vibrating against her back. “I think not.”

“Just let me go and this can be over and you can crawl back under whatever rock you came from.”

“That’s hardly a thing to say to your husband-to-be.”

His words sent a thrill of fear through her. And something else.

“Please,” she said, trying to remain calm—to sound rational. “James will be lying back there wondering what happened.”

“I doubt that.”

“He will—and he’ll come for me if I don’t join him. He knows where we are going and has plenty of money to pay to get to Doncaster.”

“I don’t think so, darling.”

She squirmed in his unbreakable hold. “What the devil do you mean? Of course he—”

His face dropped close to hers, his hot breath on her temple. “James won’t be expecting you. Who do you think untied my hands so I could grab you, sweetheart?”

Chapter 4

“I hate you.”

“You’ve already said that. Several times, in fact.”

Lady Eva was sitting across from him, hugging herself tightly, her face a mask of fury.

“My father will kill you when he finds you.”

“You’ve said that, too.”

“He will shoot you and run you through with his sword.”

Godric chuckled. “A thorough, man, is he?”

She cut him a narrow-eyed look that pulsed with loathing. “He is one of the finest hands with a pistol or a sword in all of Britain. He will make short work of you.”

“I have no doubt he could vanquish me with either weapon. However, if he kills me, I can hardly take you off his hands, can I?” he asked sweetly.

Her delicate nostrils flared. “I shall never marry you. Never.”

“Oh come, my lady. How could you think this would end any other way? You’ve spent the last twenty-four hours or so with me—much of it alone together in this carriage. If you think Lord Exley wouldn’t hold a gun to my head if I didn’t marry you, then you are deluding yourself.” He shook his head, giving her his own hate-filled stare. “You’ve done for us both quite nicely: we are both firmly trussed up—together—just like a Christmas goose.”

Godric could see the truth of his words penetrating the thick wall of fury that surrounded her. And his words were most certainly true: she’d bound them together when she concocted this asinine caper. He shook his head, all but choked by angry despair as he contemplated the future she’d forced on both of them. He might have the war hysteria, as she’d accused, and now he would have a mad wife to keep him company. And if she wasn’t mad, she certainly behaved as if she was.

As if reading his mind she said, “Your grandfather will never allow you to marry me.”