Lady in Red Read Online Free Page B

Persian rug. “I mean you no injury.”
    She didn’t reply. There was the slight clink of metal, then the padding of her feet along the rug. There was a faint rustle of fabric, and then silence.
    He waited, his curiosity escalating by the moment. She didn’t really expect him to leave without saying anything, did she?
    “May I turn?” The unfamiliar words almost stumbled upon his tongue. Men such as himself did not utter the phrase “may I?” But for her he would. For her, he would do many things.
    “You may not.”
    “What may I do then?” he teased, hoping to draw her out to see he could be trusted, at least to some degree.
    “You may go,” she ordered with a surprising amount of authority.
    That voice of hers struck a chord within him. Very few of even the most practiced courtesans could replicate the accent and cadence of the most elite of classes. His class. Which indicated very clearly that she must have been born into a home of note. “If you wish it, then I will go, but first you will tell me your name.”
    “I will not.”
    He shrugged, giving off an air of ambivalence that he did not feel. “Then I will stay.”
    “Why do you insist?”
    God, how he longed to turn and see her. But he was testing her trust now, by merely staying in the room and not obeying her command. “Because it is what I wish and I always obtain what I wish.”
    Another protracted silence was her answer.
    “So you are aware, I never jest.” He inched his torso a little to the right, daring to glance back over his shoulder. When she still didn’t respond, he turned a little more until she was finally within the realm of his vision. One of Yvonne’s red silk sheets was wrapped tightly about her. A delicate hand grasped it closed just above her breasts. She stood like a warrior. A frail, desperate warrior. Chin high, but with a look that knew what it was to be conquered.
    The rage that he’d pushed into the depths of his soul fought to return at the thought of her struggle. This woman had been used. And used again.
    “You have no need to know my name,” she gritted.
    “How can I aid you if I do not know your name?” he asked softly.
    Her brows drew together and she brandished her captured poker. “I do not wish your aid.”
    His little warrior held that weighty iron with her thin fingers wrapped about it in a death grip. It didn’t matter that the thing probably weighed more than both her arms together. “And what will you do with that?” He nodded toward the black rod. “Crack my skull?”
    She whitened, her face twisting with distress. “If—if you force me, yes.”
    Edward hesitated, sure he had somehow hit a sensitive spot, one he had not meant to probe. Perhaps no one and nothing could reassure her, but that would not stop him from trying. “I promise, the poker is not necessary.”
    She lifted the poker higher, her arm shaking. “I don’t believe in promises.”
    Edward held out his hands slightly, the universal gesture of supplication. “Nor do I.”
    She lifted her chin defiantly. “Then why make one?”
    Why indeed? He sighed, wishing his answer wasn’t so simple. “Because I wish you to do as I want.”
    Her arm lowered ever so slightly. “Why are you being so honest?”
    “Because you would not believe my lies.”
    She hefted the poker up again. “You are correct.”
    A tired wave of frustration hit him. Trust was not achievable tonight. Not now—possibly not ever. This was unlike anything he had ever experienced. At least, not with a human. He’d seen that haunted look before in animals beaten so cruelly by their masters that they were past any sort of taming. “If you will not give me a name, little warrior, I must give you one.”
    She shifted on her feet, her wide eyes darting over him, trying to understand his interest. “Will that satisfy you?”
    He inclined his head, determined that she would see he respected her. “For now.”
    “Then name me and go.”
    It would have been amusing,