Page 25 of Outrageous

He cocked one eyebrow, a condescending action that made her want to slap him. “What’s that?”

“You said I could live wherever I wanted,” she reminded him.

“I never said that.”

Her jaw dropped. “You did.”

“Didn’t.”

“It was only about six hours ago. I know you’re old, but are you so senile you could forget such a thing already?” Eva knew her voice had risen and she was sweaty all over, even though it was a bit chilly. She told herself to stay calm, but she already knew she wasn’t in the mood to listen. To anyone—not even herself.

He gave her a patient, knowing smile that made her head throb. “We are stopping tonight because there is very little moon and I see no need to take any chances racketing straight through.” He examined the nails on his hand, turning it this way and that. Eva noticed, not for the first time, he had attractive hands. Not soft and white and almost feminine like so many men of their class, but broad across the palm and tanned on top. Gold hair glinted on the back and the veins were ropy and blue beneath the thin skin. They were quite the nicest—

Eva blinked at the thought and at the physical sensations just looking at his hand evoked. This was bad. Very bad. She looked up to find him watching her, his head cocked, his expression inquiring. She dragged her attention back to the point she’d been pursuing. What was it again? Oh, yes, living arrangements.

“I want to talk about what you said earlier. I want—”

The carriage shuddered to a sudden halt, the wheels sliding sideways so that they both grabbed for a strap. The earl leaned forward to look out the window. It had rained constantly since this morning and had begun bucketing down after they’d left the last inn around two o’clock. It looked like dusk rather than only six o’clock.

“What is it?” she asked, even though she was looking out the same window he was.

“I don’t know,” he muttered before turning to her, his expression changing from thoughtful to stern. “I’m going to see what is going on. You. Stay. Here.”

Eva bristled. “How dare you talk to me as if I were a dog?”

“Do I need to tie you up?”

She gasped.

He pointed an index finger at her. “Stay put.”

Before she could tell him what he could do with both his order and his finger, he opened the door and hopped out, shutting the door and disappearing from view.

“You pillock,” she said to the empty carriage and then pressed her face to the cool glass. She couldn’t see anything but rain and dreary clouds and trees that seemed to press in upon the road.

She was about to open the window and poke her head out when the door on the other side opened. She spun around. “I wasn’t doing anything,” she blurted.

He climbed in without bothering to lower the steps. Eva wished she could do that—it was dreadful to be as runty as she.

“What is it?” she asked as he shook the rain from his hat and the carriage started to move.

He gave her a grim look. “A tree has fallen across the road and we must go back.”

Hope surged in her breast. She tried not to let her excitement show, but he noticed it anyway.

“Not all the way to London, darling. Only as far as the last turnoff. We shall go to a town just off the main road. There are two inns; one of them should suffice for the night.” His eyes narrowed as he wiped the excess water from his face with a snowy square of linen. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“What ideas might those be? Shooting you? I no longer have a gun. Running away from you? Ha! Where would I run with no money? In this.” She plucked at the dreadful dress he’d purchased—a namby-pamby girly thing in a putrid shade of blue. “Not to mention up here at the back of beyond in the dark and rain?”

“Yes, to all of those ideas and also the ones you didn’t mention.”

“I told you I wouldn’t run—I resent what you are implying.”

He snorted. “Please. Quit behaving as if your mind has never been violated by such thoughts. I know you wouldn’t give a toss about any of that if you believed you could get away from me.”

“You sound familiar with the concept of women wanting to get away from you.”

His mouth pulled into a smile that was not nice but sent odd curls of heat spiraling through her chest and into her belly. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his powerful, leather-clad thighs. “Darling, you may imagine what you like about me and women in that fertile imagination of yours. But if you make a fool of me—or try—you’ll become familiar with the concept of my hand on your bottom.”