Lord of Pleasure Read Online Free

by your twisted sense of judgment. You know nothing of me or my situation.” She pointed toward the door. Repeatedly. “Now get out.”
    He laughed, amusement flickering within his eyes. “Or what?” He held up his gloved hand and grew theatrically serious. “You’ll ravage me?”
    “Remove yourself at once!” She pointed toward the door again, still hating the fact that she had actually enjoyed his devious hoax of an advance. “Before I have the driver toss you into a pile of rubbish where you belong.”
    He dropped his hand back to his side, leaned far back into his seat, making himself quite comfortable, and eyed her. “Let us say, for a moment, that I believe you. Which I don’t. Whose widow are you? Would I know of him?”
    Everyone in the upper crust of London society knew of Chartwell. Just as everyone also knew how he’d been shot through the heart—and rightfully so—by one of his many jealous mistresses while at the opera with his latest coquette. The poor, misguided woman was promptly hanged, and Charlotte’s life forever changed.
    “No,” she said in a firm, clipped tone. “You would not know of him.”
    He smirked. “Because he doesn’t exist. Does he?”
    Charlotte set her lips into a rigid, thin line, the heat of her body reaching a level it had never reached in her entire life. She’d had enough of this. Of him.
    “It is time for you to leave.” She snapped up her hand to knock on the roof of the carriage.
    He jumped forward and caught hold of her wrist. “Not until we get you home.”
    Charlotte yelped as he yanked her by the wrist, forcing her forward in her seat. He pressed her gloved hand tightly against his knee, against his warmth. Though she tried repeatedly to pry herself loose, he continued to hold her wrist firmly in place.
    She glared up at him. “How dare you! Unhand me!”
    He leaned toward her, trying to level himself to her lowered height, but the top hat sitting on his lap prevented him from doing so. His playful gaze searched her face as he continued to closely hover above her. “Why are you so miffed? I am merely a gentleman seeing to your virtue. You ought to be thanking me. Not verbally spanking me.”
    Such charm. Such wit. Or so he thought. She mocked a laugh. “I’ll have you know that a real gentleman would have never taken advantage of a lady the way you did. I think you rather enjoyed yourself.”
    He coolly stared down at her, not at all budging from the close, awkward position they continued to share. “Actually, yes. I did enjoy myself.” His eyes trailed down to her lips before meeting her gaze again. “Which is why it is absolutely imperative we remove you from my presence at once. Otherwise, I’ll not be held accountable for what I really have in mind for you.”
    Her breath hitched in her throat, and for a moment she could have sworn her heart had stopped beating altogether. For he said it as if he meant it.
    The carriage rolled to an unexpected halt, sending her flying toward him. She jerked back, trying to distance herself from the alluring warmth of his body, but found herself stumbling back at him.
    She glanced down at her wrist. Her eyes widened, realizing he was still holding on to her.
    “Eleven Berwick Street!” the driver called out in a muffled voice.
    Her gaze snapped up and met his alluring green eyes that boldly and silently challenged her to indulge in what he had to offer. Although a part of her was rather curious as to what he was physically capable of, a much larger part of her knew she might not survive.
    A sense of panic settled in on her. “Unhand me,” she hoarsely whispered. She commenced to rigidly strain against his firm grip. “Unhand me!”
    He grinned. Then released her hand.
    “Oh!” Charlotte stumbled back from her own momentum and lost her footing with a skid. Her bum bounced down onto the hard carriage floor, scattering her bombazine skirts up and around her.
    “Why, you knave!” she huffed out, tucking her