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To Cassie’s consummate embarrassment, she discovered that all the wine and coffee she had consumed had created a distressing problem. She shifted uncomfortably on the settee for some moments, and finally she said, “I have to—that is, I must— please leave me alone.”

The earl cocked his head to one side, then grinned. He rose and walked to the door. “The chamber pot is by the bed. You have five minutes, Cassandra, no more.”

After seeing to her most immediate need, Cassie looked frantically at the clock and saw that she had only two minutes before he would return. Though she knew she would not be able to keep him away from her, she pulled the heavy settee over and braced it against the locked door. She grew red in the face trying to push the table before she saw that it was fastened securely to the floor. She gave a cry of frustration and dashed to the far corner of the cabin when she heard the key turn in the lock.

She heard a low, deep chuckle and saw the settee move easily aside as he pushed open the door. The smile was still wide on his face when he came through the door.

“It appears that I gave you too much time. Perhaps next time I will not leave you.” His tone turned suddenly serious. “Come here, Cassandra, I would speak to you.”

She shook her head, fear clogging her throat.

“If you do not do as I tell you,” he continued patiently, “I shall simply carry you over here and sit you down.”

Her feet dragged forward, but she refused to sit in the chair, and stood facing him from across the small expanse of table.

He straddled a chair and regarded her in silence. He saw the stark fear on her face and regretted what he had to do. Better to get it over with quickly, he thought. He cleared his throat and said levelly, “As I said this afternoon, Cassandra, I intend that you become my wife.”

“And I think you dim-witted, my lord, for I told you this afternoon that your intention is mad. I would sooner wed the devil himself.”

“And to assist you to accept me more quickly as your husband, we will begin tonight in married intimacy.”

“No, damn you, no.”

“Yes, we shall.”

“I will not let you. Damn you, you will not touch me.”

“Cassandra, heed me. To allow you to continue in your virgin state would be the height of foolishness, for it would encourage you to nourish unfounded hopes and keep you all the longer away from me.”

“I am not a virgin,” she said baldly. She saw the flicker of surprise in his dark eyes, and hurried on. “Not only am I not a virgin, my lord earl, I am also pregnant. Nearly two months pregnant, my lord, with Edward Lyndhurst’s child. You waited too long to kidnap me, for I carry proof of my love for Edward.”

“That is not possible,” Anthony said slowly, his eyes flitting to her waist.

“Do not lie to yourself, my lord. Of a certainty it’s possible.” Her voice rose. “Let me tell you of it, my lord. Shortly after Edward’s return, he saw me swimming. It’s a lonely isolated stretch of beach, far away even from your prying eyes. As I was very nearly naked, he could not help himself. I much enjoyed the touch of his hands, the feel of his body against mine.” She saw that she had shaken him. “I am damaged goods, my lord, not the virgin wife you thought to have. You have another man’s woman and another man’s child on your hands.”

She gazed steadily at his face and crossed her arms over her belly.

When he finally spoke, his voice was curiously flat. “I am sorry, Cassandra, for now it will take you longer to forget your viscount. I shall not harm your child. Indeed, I shall raise it as my own.”

She jerked back, unable to believe his words. “You cannot mean it. Have you not understood me? I have freely given my body to another man. Damn you, you cannot still want me.”

He slowly unstraddled the chair and rose. “Come, my love, I will help you to undress.”

He stretched his hand to her.

“No,” she yelled and backed away from him. “You will not do this to me, do you hear?”

“Since you are not a virgin, Cassandra, and know a man’s body well, you must also know that I will not hurt you. You will learn my touch and the feel of my body against yours.” As he spoke, he moved slowly around the table. She saw the purpose in his eyes and ran to the corner of the cabin, her shoulders pressing against the windows astern. He loomed huge and dark, towering over her. She struggled wildly when he clasped her shoulders, trying to twist free of him. She jerked up her knee, but it connected with his thigh. He pinioned her arms easily against her sides and lifted her to his shoulder, one hand cupping her hips and the other holding her legs tightly against his chest.

He dropped her onto the bed and sat down beside her, holding her hands above her head. “Don’t fight me, Cassandra, it will ch

ange naught.” His mouth closed over hers.

“No,” she yelled, and twisted her face away from him. She arched her back and brought up her legs to kick at his back.

In a swift movement, he uncoiled his body and lay beside her, throwing his leg over hers to hold her still. He felt the giving softness of her, and instinctively moved atop her, and pressed himself against her.

He saw that her eyes were filled with fear and forced himself for the moment to calm his desire. He gently stroked the firm line of her jaw, the whiteness of her throat, his touch light and undemanding.

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