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“Pfft to your advice.” Evie gave a dismissive snap of her fingers.
His nostrils flared, and he didn’t speak for several long seconds. “I think you might at least allow me the dignity of untying my hands whilst you rain insults down upon my head?”
Evie stopped feet away from him, her brow raised in expectation. “Please,” she finally supplied forcefully when the duke returned her stare blankly.
He stiffened at the same time as he spoke through clenched teeth. “Please.”
She stomped over to stand behind him and unfasten the rope about his wrists. “I should have known you would not have had the foresight to enlist the help of others in securing my release. Nincompoop is far too mild a description of your arrogant disdain for either the ability or feelings of others. You, sir, are a selfish, egotistical ass.”
Evie, having unfastened the rope about Lincoln’s wrists before stepping out from behind him, found herself gasping in shock when she saw the knife in his hand as he proceeded to slice through the bonds about his ankles.
“Where did that knife come from?” She sounded as perplexed as she felt.
“It was hidden in the top of my boot.” Lincoln slid the weapon slickly back into its hiding place. “But I was unable to reach it with my hands tied behind my back.”
Evie placed her hands upon her hips. “So you could have fought against being taken prisoner if you had wanted to?”
“I could,” he confirmed. “I might even have taken one or two of these men down, possibly three. But the end result would have been my being taken prisoner anyway, but with the added resentment of the men for having harmed some of their colleagues.”
“That is hardly the point.”
“It is exactly the point.”
“I disagree— What are you doing?” she demanded. The duke had grasped hold of her wrist and now pulled her inexorably toward him until she lost her balance and found herself falling across the firmness of his thighs. “Lincoln!” she complained loudly after having tried, and failed, to regain her footing.
Lincoln placed an arm across her back to hold her in place and then threw up the back of her gown.
“What is happening?” Evie barely had time to ask before one of his large hands landed hard and painfully on her bottom covered only by the thin material of her drawers. She let out an indignant screech.
CHAPTERFIVE
“I am administering the spanking I said you deserved,” Hunter informed her grimly. “After I several times gave warning for you to have a care how you spoke to me.”
He ignored the flailing arms and increasingly outraged screeches Evelyn made as he proceeded to land one blow after another upon her shapely arse.
Luscious twin globes that began to feel hotter beneath his palm after each smack was administered. That soft and burning flesh felt so tempting, he could not resist allowing his hand to linger after the landing of the next blow. His fingers caressed and squeezed that plump flesh, before he raised his hand to administer yet another resounding smack. Once again, his hand lingered as that flesh seemed to pulse and quiver beneath his palm.
Quite where those caresses might have led him, Hunter was unsure, because the moment of increasing intimacy was suddenly broken by the sound of the enthusiastic shouts and encouraging whistles.
Hunter, having quite forgotten they were not alone, lifted his head to see that Evelyn’s kidnappers were watching the display with varying degrees of avidity. Paul Harker was the noticeable exception, an expression of paternal disapproval on his lined face.
A disapproval which caused Hunter to straighten his spine and pull Evelyn’s dress back into place before grasping her arm to assist her in standing. He also rose to his feet, inwardly praying that none of the other men noticed the bulge in the front of his pantaloons, come about from the pleasure he had felt each time his hand struck Evelyn’s flesh. God knows what Harker would think of him if he should see the evidence of his arousal.
Evelyn swayed a little unsteadily for several seconds until she managed to secure her balance. At which time, she turned to glare at Hunter. “I have always thought resorting to brute force to be the action of a weak man, especially when directed toward a woman.” She spat the words at him.
Hunter’s jaw tightened at the insult. “Or simply a man who has been pushed to his limit.”
She gave another of those dismissive snorts. “Believe me, sir, I am nowhere near finishedpushingyou.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you think your barbaric behavior just now has done anything to change that, then you are sadly mistaken.” She turned to the men, who had now fallen silent. “I am disappointed in all of you,” she told them huskily, unshed tears balanced on her long lashes, her cheeks pale. “Despite the circumstances of our meeting, I had thought we now liked each other.”
“We likes ye well enough,” the youngest one defended.
“O’ course we do,” another assured.
“It was only tha it’s been sa long since we ’ad anythi’ to laugh about,” another excused.
“Too long,” another muttered.
“We wouldna ’arm ye for the world,” said another.
