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The journal was a revelation. Each entry started out hating, cursing, and reviling him, but ended up loving, almost worshiping him. The thing that startled him was the evil deeds she laid at his door. His character was so black, he became amused. He did not offer her the indignity of laughing aloud at her words, however. No hope of keeping his drug smuggling from her. She knew all that and suspected worse. Some pages labeled him an opium addict, others an assassin or just plain murderer.
He was the whoremaster of all time. He kept a concubine and had fucked his way through London’s society matrons from Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, to Lady Melbourne and her daughter, the exquisite Countess Cowper. Only the fact that he’d been out of the country for years saved him from fathering Lady Bessborough’s illegitimate children, he had no doubt. Yet in spite of the fact that he spent every afternoon anointing his conquests with the honors of his manhood, Antonia obviously adored him. She was madly in love with him and cursed him as ten kinds of villain because he hadn’t asked her to marry him.
Tony had romanticized him into some sort of dark archangel who was wicked as sin, and totally irresistible because of it. Poor Antonia, she was in for a devastating disappointment. He was a reformed man who leaned decidedly toward good these days, rather than evil. He hated to burst her bubble but he intended to do just that. She had led such a sheltered, restricted life with no outlet for her passionate nature. Repressed to the point where she craved adventure, no wonder she had jumped at thé chance to act out a male role. She had been allowed the freedom to enjoy herself for the first time in her life. She had taken to adventure as a bird takes to flight, spreading her wings and soaring until she touched the heavens.
Trouble was she had become almost addicted to larger-than-life adventures. She had fought a duel, then escaped with him aboard theFlying Dragon.As a reward she turned the Carnival of Venice into a living fantasy for him as well as herself. In Ireland they had fallen in love, but had Tony fallen in love with the nabob, Indian Savage? Or the Leopard with its scarred face and wild, untamable nature? Or the nobleman, the Marquess of Blackwater? Could she love the man he really was? Could she love Adam Savage?
He put the book aside and came toward her. A small scream escaped her lips as he swept her up into his arms and held her high against his heart. The scream told him she was enjoying this new adventure. He boldly carried her to his chamber. The domed bed sat upon a pedestal, draped in sheer crimson panels. Thrown across the wide bed and spilling down to the black silk carpet was a cover of leopard skins.
Savage laughed at his own folly. He, too, indulged in fantasies. He gently placed her upon the bed, then pulled off his thigh-high boots and his shirt. Without removing his tight black breeches he lay down beside her. Her lovely green eyes were wide as she tried to anticipate what this dangerous devil would do to her. She gasped as his bold hand reached beneath the hem of her pristine nightgown, but he was content to let his hand caress her long, slim leg while he talked to her.
His husky voice sent shivers along her spine. “Tony, you know I’ve led a dangerous, corrupt life. No, let me finish. According to your journal you know that I lie, cheat, thieve, and smuggle. The things I do are unscrupulous, unsavory, and immoral. My activities are illegal, even criminal. I violate every law known to God and man.” He felt her stiffen. Imperceptibly she shrank from him.
“You know I am venal and mercenary, but I can see that excites you, Tony.” His hand moved up to her silken thigh to work its wicked magic.
“No! Please don’t do that,” she cried, trying to pull away from him.
“Tony, I enjoy being a villainous bastard, but more to the point, you enjoy it.” He took his hand from her thigh and began to unbutton the row of tiny buttons at her throat.
“No! No, I do not!” she cried emphatically.
“We both know better.” He laughed deep in his throat and Tony heard the evil intent in it. He had the entire row of buttons undone now, allowing his hands free access to her breasts. He pulled aside the cambric and his calloused hands encircled her slender throat.
“It arouses you to know these same hands that touch every intimate part of your body have killed men.”
Her green eyes were liquid with loathing and apprehension. “Savage, stop this!”
“Savage,” he repeated silkily.“Nomen est omen,the name is the destiny! My very name thrills you to the core.” He slid her nightgown from her shoulders, revealing her breasts. His pale blue eyes licked over her like the flame of a candle. “The scar on my mouth is so sinister, it makes you wild with desire when it brushes across your nipple.” He demonstrated for her.
A moan escaped her lips and she was instantly horrified at herself.
His palm cupped her breast and she felt the heat flood from his body into hers. His lips brushed across her cheekbone and came to rest beside her ear. “I believe the thing that arouses your passion most is the fact that you imagine I am a rake.Youimagine I am incapable of being faithful to one woman.Youthink me profligate, dissolute, carnal …”
Antonia began to tremble. He was aware of her slightest tremor.
“You’ve always had to be such a good girl. So virginal, lying here in your sweet little nightdress. But when you are in bed with me, you live out your fantasy of the angel and the devil.
The fact that I’m a libertine allows you to be promiscuous. Because I’ve had mistresses, you had to become my mistress. Because I’ve used whores, you want to become my whore.”
Antonia’s hand slapped him full in the face. She pulled her nightgown back up to cover her breasts and tried to flee from the bed. His strong fingers snaked out to encircle her wrist. “Tony, what’s wrong?”
“You lecherous swine.” She panted, anger almost choking her.
His intense blue gaze held hers. “Tony, you don’t want a dull devil of a husband who never breaks the law.”
“I do! I most certainly do!”
“God’s balls, you don’t want a husband who hasn’t the guts to commit adultery.”
“Yes, I do! That’s exactly what I want!”
“Look about you. All this can be yours in return for your sexual favors,” he tempted.
Antonia’s fury exploded. “You can take your bloody ostentatious Edenwood and shove it up your waistcoat. You are the most self-indulgent, arrogant male I’ve ever had the misfortune to know. You think your wealth can buy you anything, but it cannot buy me! My God, you are nothing but a Sybarite, decorating your servants with rubies, sleeping on a throne, buying yourself titles.”
“You actually prefer a man with morals?”
“I could love no other!” she avowed passionately.
