Sinful (Hot Regency Romance Novella) Read Online Free

about you for
all these years.”
    His very answer terrified her. There was no
hatred in his voice. Only regret. “And was it?” she managed to
ask.
    “Let’s just say I can have my secrets, too.”
But his gaze ravaged her mouth. Her lips were still so sensitive,
just the heat in his glance made them ache for another kiss.
    “I promise you, Sal,” he growled. “I will get
to the truth. I will find out if you were involved with Lady
Maryanne’s disappearance.” His expression grew even harder, as
though, in a heartbeat, he had turned to stone. “And I will find
out if you are keeping my daughter from me.”
     
    * * *
     
    Lyan followed the tall, icily correct butler
down the gloomy halls of Cavell House and felt as if he were
trailing a walking cadaver. As he neared his client’s study, he
planned what he would say. What he would reveal.
    He hadn’t expected Sally to give him any
information. But he’d observed her shock when he’d said Maryanne
was missing, and it had told him more than words. Sal had known he
would question her about a marriage, but she obviously hadn’t
anticipated he would ask about a disappearance. It meant Lady
Maryanne’s vanishing act had not been planned.
    He hadn’t anticipated kissing Sally. His
mouth had been on hers before he’d realized what he was doing. Her
kiss had burned a path through his hardened heart like a flame
along a fuse. He couldn’t think of anything but getting her back
into his arms, keeping her there forever, kissing and kissing her
until she was panting, needy, and begging him to make love to
her.
    Never, on a job, did he lose control. Never
had he stopped thinking with his head and let his cock take charge.
He couldn’t afford to do it now.
    Yet, knowing that, he was still mentally
undressing Sally as he sauntered down the corridor of the Marquis
of Cavell’s home. He could imagine what she would look like naked,
completely bared to him and draped sensuously across her desk. For
his pleasure, he arranged her on her front—on her small round
breasts and smooth tummy—with her naked rump saucily lifted to
tempt him.
    Hell.
    Even with their past hanging between them,
with her betrayal sitting in his gut like a knife blade, he had to
admire her. He’d always known she was tough, but now he appreciated
she was also intelligent and clever. A better life agreed with her.
She had changed from a stick-thin seventeen-year-old with dirty
hair to a tall, striking beauty. Her severe hairstyle had made him
hunger to tear out her pins and watch the whisky-colored mass fall
down her back. Ten years ago, he never would have guessed her hair
was that rich amber hue. If he hadn’t known Sally from the past, he
would have been enjoying himself. A canny, beautiful woman: she was
the type of adversary who made his work interesting.
    When he’d looked at her, he’d felt not anger,
but sorrow and regret. Yet when he’d walked through her feminine
shop, he’d been stunned by one realization—the tumultuous ending of
their relationship had been for the best. Where would they have
been if she hadn’t taken half their money, run out on him, and
built up her business? Where would he have been if he hadn’t gone
after her, gotten himself stabbed by a footpad in his distraction,
and realized he had to get out of the stews before that world ate
him alive?
    The butler rapped upon a dark study door.
“Mr. Foxton has arrived to report, my lord.” A raspy voice barked
at him to enter, and Lyan found himself once again in the dark,
cave-like study of Horace Beckworth, the Marquis of Cavell.
    The marquis tossed back a glass of brandy and
stomped forward. His jowls shook as he bellowed, “Bloody hell,
Foxton, you haven’t found her yet. I don’t know what you hoped to
accomplish by coming to see me without my ward, but if your goal
was to infuriate me, you have succeeded. There are other Runners in
London. Other successful private investigators.”
    It was a struggle for Lyan