Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

other circumstances. He did it for England. Then there was the way she had felt in his arms, which was surely the most telling aspect of who he was. She trusted him, she realized suddenly, trusted him completely.

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    Evangeline looked at his long white hands and remembered all the intimate places he had touched her, the gentleness and the harshness of his touch. She looked at the curve of his full mouth and shivered thinking of the places it had delved and licked. He knew how to inflict pleasure and pain in such a way that it was impossible to tell the difference between the two. Above all she had felt safe in his arms, knowing that while he might force his will upon her, he would protect her from whatever harm came her way.
    So intent was she upon her thoughts, upon observing the minutiae of the man before her, that she did not see he returned her scrutiny.
    “Evangeline, you are staring at me.” She blushed and looked down at her plate. The food went cold so quickly in a great, barren room like this. She pushed it away, wanting no more. “Have you finished your meal?” he asked. “You usually have a fine appetite.”
    Evangeline took her glass of wine and swallowed a large mouthful. “I am saving room for the cream cake. I hope there is a large one.”
    Raven laughed. “Have you forgiven me?”
    “I do not perceive that you think you have done anything wrong.”
    He sighed. “If I had known that wanting to make love to you in the family crypt would distress you so much I would never have attempted it, though I confess I don’t know why it is any different than any other place.”
    There was no point in dragging it out. He had made a mistake and seemed to accept it even if he did not understand why. “I’m sorry I led you to believe that that sort of thing was acceptable anywhere at all. I only pray you will not tell anyone, my lord.”
    “Anyone would expect a man to make love to his own wife, it’s his duty,” he smiled.
    “I am not your wife, my lord, nor will I ever be.”
    “You will, Evangeline,” he said simply. “Because as different as we may be, you will never find another man to compare with me.
    Bank clerks aside, even if you married a lord he could never match up 246
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    to me.”
    “You think a great deal of yourself, sir.”
    Before she could protest, Raven reached across the plates and pushed his fingers down her cleavage. His slender hand slid inside the bodice of her gown until he cupped one breast, then the other. Her nipples hardened against his palm.
    “My lord, will you please behave yourself,” she said as firmly as she could manage considering how aroused she was all of a sudden.
    She pushed at his hand but could not match his strength or agility. He grasped both her small wrists with his free hand and pulled them away. She was powerless to stop him. He pinched her nipples hard and a little squeal escaped her. She moaned out loud and he pinched harder still. “Stop,” she begged.
    Raven leaned in close to her face. “Why? Because I excite you so much? Because you melt under my hands?”
    “Yes, yes,” she whispered, her breath laboured.
    The door opened and Evangeline looked in horror as two footmen, one carrying another tray of wine, the other carrying a delicious-looking trifle, entered the room. Raven looked into her eyes, refusing to remove his hands. He pinched her nipples harder and she suppressed her moans only with great difficulty.
    “My lord,” she whispered. “The servants.”
    “What of them?” he asked.
    Tears sprang to Evangeline’s eyes, her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Please!” Raven did not budge. The footmen put the trays down on the table, carefully avoiding looking at their master.
    “Leave it, I’ll pour the wine,” he told them and watched while they left.
    When they were gone he tweaked her nipples again then released her and served her some of the trifle. “Eat up, my dear,” he urged her.
    “You know you like it.”
    “I despise you!” She turned away from him, refusing to eat any more. “How could you do that?”

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    “You will only be happy when you submit to me entirely,” he said calmly. He grasped his glass and downed his wine.
    “I will never submit to you ever again,” she screamed at him, rising from the table.
    “Never is a very long time, my dear girl,” he smiled.
    Evangeline wanted to rake her nails across his face. Instead she left the dining room with