Read Some Like It Sinful (Hellion's Den) for Free Online Page B

that.
    How he could be so certain was a matter he did not bother to ponder.
    Keeping his vigil at her side, Hawksley was at last forced to go in search of a candle as the darkness filled the loft. He had just set it on a low stool when Miss Dawson gave a moan and her lashes slowly fluttered open.
    Returning to the mattress he hovered over her, his hand pressing against her shoulder when she attempted to lever herself upright.
    “No, do not move,” he commanded softly.
    Baffled green eyes clung to his countenance, as if attempting to determine why she might be lying on her back in a darkened loft.
    “What happened?” she at last demanded.
    “You fainted.”
    Her brows snapped together. “I told you, I never faint.”
    “Then you must be an extraordinary actress,” he retorted in wry tones. “I have seen any number of women swoon on cue, but you are the first to roll your eyes back and thump your head upon a bench.”
    Her hand lifted to gingerly touch the lump that no doubt was still aching.
    “Ah. That would explain the pain in my head.”
    Hawksley resisted the urge to smile. He was beginning to expect the unexpected with this woman.
    “You collapsed too quickly for me to prevent your plunge to the floor. On the next occasion you might at least offer some small signal. That way I can be properly prepared to avert disaster.”
    “I have no intention of fainting again.” Her lips thinned in disapproval. “I would not have done so in the first place had you not made that absurd claim.”
    His amusement died a swift death. “Kitten, there is nothing absurd about it.”
    “It must be,” she insisted. “Why would anyone desire to kill me? I live alone in a small village with no relatives, little money, and few friends. The only things I possess of value are my father’s books, and they are not worth more than a few pounds.”
    “Lord Doulton must possess some reason.”
    “There can be no reason. He does not even know me.”
    “Then how do you explain the fact that Lord Doulton not only knew your name as well as where you live, but he also knew the precise day you would be traveling to London?”
    She bit her bottom lip, her brow creased. “I cannot say, although my trip was no secret. I would suppose most of my neighbors knew of my travel plans.”
    He considered the possibilities for a moment. Could Lord Doulton have some association to the village? Some nefarious dealings there that this woman might be jeopardizing?
    Possible, but he was not going to leap to conclusions.
    “Did you write to tell anyone in London of your arrival?”
    “I . . .” Surprisingly, her words trailed away as a hint of a blush touched her cheeks.
    Hawksley discovered his curiosity fully roused. “What?”
    “I did send a message to Mr. Chesterfield, but I cannot be certain he received my note.”
    “Chesterfield? He is a relative?”
    “No . . . he is . . . an acquaintance.”
    Hawksley shifted on the mattress, planting a hand on each side of her shoulders. He did not care for the notion that this woman was traveling to London to visit some male acquaintance. And he certainly did not care for the notion that this male acquaintance might be the reason Miss Dawson was hoarding her first kiss.
    “You were slipping off to London to meet a gentleman? Really, Miss Dawson. That is hardly the behavior of a proper lady.”
    She tightened her lips, although he could sense a lingering embarrassment she attempted to keep hidden.
    “I was concerned for him.”
    “Why?”
    “I really do not feel it is any of your business.”
    Hawksley smiled. Ah, she had no notion.
    “At the moment, everything about you is my business.”
    “You cannot force me to tell you.”
    Her words echoed through the empty cottage. Rather audacious for a woman being held captive by a strange gentleman far from any hope of rescue.
    Of course, he was beginning to suspect that Miss Dawson made a habit of audacity.
    He lowered his head until their noses were