Read A Measured Risk for Free Online Page A

seem to get any breathing space.
    Soulless bastard that he was, he might have still seduced her. Had her a few times until the novelty began to pall. Except that the sad, sincere shadows in her eyes had filled him with an uncharacteristic sense of protectiveness—an innate demand that he stand between her and all sources of hurt and danger.
    Even himself.
    He really had no business entangling himself in such an emotional liaison. When he returned to Mayfair in the spring, he would be making public his engagement to Lady Maria Waterbury, a baronet’s widow.
    She was the most honest woman he knew. She had her own wealth and interests and he had no intention of interfering with that. She would never try to manipulate him or control their marriage. She wanted one thing from him and he from her. Legitimate children—and attractive ones at that. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen…at least until recently.
    But more than that, they were friends and sometime lovers, and though their sexual tastes did not mesh completely they understood and respected each other. Aside from the fidelity she would owe him in the years during which they filled the nursery with an heir and a spare, they both sought a marriage based on mutual liberty.
    But he would never love her, nor would she love him. They would never have any motivation to hurt each other.
    He couldn’t say the same with any confidence about himself and the lovely Lady Cranfield. The best thing would be to put some distance between them.

    * * * *

    In her chambers, soaking in her tub and relieved to be alone, Anne closed her eyes with a sigh. Nothing had gone as she had intended. Ruel had completely controlled the situation and used his obviously vast carnal experience to manipulate her—to get under her carefully constructed defences. That was something she could not allow. And those things he’d said about her and William just were not true. He was trying to undermine her confidence in herself, trying to convince himself that he would be successful in adding her to his doubtless long list of conquests.
    And, dear God, the man was far too sure of himself.
    “I want you to lie on that crimson divan and display yourself for me.”
    His velvet smooth voice had rung with the total assurance that she would do his bidding. As if she would ever do such a shameless thing as to lie naked in broad daylight in the Whitecross study in front of a virtual stranger. With a houseful of people no less! She soaped her cloth, then vigorously scrubbed her arms.
    “… display yourself for me.”
    She couldn’t silence the echo of his words in her mind. What if she had obeyed him? Her hand on the cloth slowed. The silken slide over her flesh was like plush velvet rasping softly against her bare skin. Well…what if she had?
    She could see it. See it so clearly that her mouth went dry. Herself, lying back against the divan, the velvet gliding against her naked flesh. His fierce, azure gaze trailing over her at his leisure.
    She awaited his pleasure…
    Excitement rushed over her, so intense that the chamber seemed to spin. She slipped her hand down her stomach and over her mons. She delved her fingers between the outer folds to seek the nub between. It grew firm, rising up against her pressing fingertips.
    She recalled, vividly and viscerally, how he had grasped her hair and pulled her head back and forced her mouth as far open as it would go to accept the heated onslaught of his demanding tongue.
    She slid her fingers against the sides of her firm nub. The tingles increased rapidly and deep inside the tightening began. It had never built this quickly. But it was going to happen. Now. She couldn’t deny herself. She moved her fingers quicker and the power of the first contraction stunned her. She let her breath out in short, quivering hitches as her hips bucked against her hand through the next several spasms.
      With a small cry, she sank down against the porcelain tub, her core