Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

T he door clicked shut as Christian watched his guest walk slowly into the room.

She looked intrigued—or was she irritated? He supposed both were to be expected. He noted that despite the privacy they had, they both kept their masks on. His hand itched to remove hers so that he could look her in the eye and say what he needed to say.

He had heard about her reputation as the ‘Iron Harridan’ from his friends, who had discussed it at length during the last Season. She was no longer the innocent girl he had encountered in her father’s hallway. Her reddish-blonde hair was pinned to her head with ribbons, a stark contrast to the rest of her ensemble. It was almost as though the Ice Queen herself stood before him in all her glory. She was startlingly beautiful.

This arrangement may not be such a hardship, after all.

“Do you know why you are here?” he asked.

She said nothing, watching him carefully before shaking her head.

“Your father has sold you to me.”

The lady went utterly still, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her tongue then darted out to wet her full lips. The fire in her eyes was unmistakable, but Christian would not apologize for another man’s weakness.

“If you are incapable of securing a mistress, Your Grace, then perhaps you should?—”

He raised a hand to silence her. “I am not looking for a mistress.”

She turned to fully face him, and his eyes ran appreciatively over her curves. “Did you not offer a high enough price, perhaps?” Her voice dripped with derision.

“I am not looking for a mistress, and your father did not have a say in how much I paid . You are going to be my wife.”

She laughed. It was a high, melodic laugh, and the force of it surprised him. That was not the reaction he had expected from a lady whose father had used her to settle a debt.

I would give anything to know what is going on in that head of hers.

“You may think me cruel, I am sure,” he added, straightening his waistcoat uncomfortably, “but I mean you no harm. You are simply a means to an end. I need you in order to find my brother.”

The laughter died on her lips, and her eyes flicked to his own. There was interest in them now and an urgent sort of hope.

Christian had always wondered if she and his brother were more than friends, but her expression gave nothing away.

“Given the fact that you are Marcus’s friend, I felt you would be agreeable to the idea. After all, it was either me or one of the other odious men who attempted to… purchase you. I have protected you from them, at least.”

“How thoughtful of you. Tell me, did you bargain long on the amount? I would be interested to know which amount Father considered. Fifty pounds would have probably discharged the troublesome burden of a daughter, I wager.” She smoothed the front of her dress. “I do not need your protection, Your Grace, nor did I ask for it.”

Christian walked further into the room and leaned against his desk, watching her silently. The pause seemed to unsettle the lady, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot, scowling at him.

“If you are planning to use me to get back at my father because of your ridiculous rivalry, then you?—”

“Careful, Lady Louise. If I were planning to use you, I would certainly lie about it. I have instead told you the truth. Do I want to get back at your father? Only if he had something to do with my brother’s disappearance. Do I hate you specifically? I would not say so. I have never given you much thought except for the strength of your arm.”

Her eyes hardened instantly, and Christian felt a thrill at the sight. Something about riling her was very pleasing.

“The strength of my arm has never been in question. The strength of a man’s character, on the other hand…” She ran her eyes from his feet to the top of his head.

Christian had to fight not to smile.

“I do not doubt it. I am sure I have greatly impressed you with my character, given the circumstances, but there is little to be done about it. A deal between gentlemen will be upheld. Your father has run out of cards to play.”

“Why?” She shook her head in frustration. “Why has he done this? And more importantly, why would you agree to it? It cannot simply be for your brother’s sake.”

“You do not wish for him to be found?”

“More than anything, but that is not up to me. You would ally yourself with a man you hate, who has sneered at you behind your back all your life? It does not make sense to me.”

“Would you prefer to be my mistress? Is that it?” Christian asked, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps toward her.

She stepped back a pace, her gaze flicking to the door. “I will not be a pawn in your games, Sir, no matter what agreement you may have in place.”

“The agreement is that you will become my wife, and you had better warm up to the idea if you do not wish to be destitute.”

“Warm up to the idea? And how am I supposed to do that? I am the Ice Queen, remember?” She turned on the spot, allowing him an even better view of her exquisite figure.

He stepped closer, and when she returned to face him again, she sucked in a sharp breath at his proximity. Christian waited to see if she would back away, but she stood her ground.

A single lock of hair had come loose and hung down beside her ear; it had been driving him mad since she entered the room.

“You cannot only be made of ice,” he murmured, slowly lifting his hand, capturing the strand between his fingers, and tucking it beneath one of the ribbons.

She froze, staring at him as though he were quite mad.

Perhaps I am.

“And why do you say that?” she asked softly.

“Because you have managed to wrap my brother around your little finger. There wasn’t a week that went by that he didn’t visit your house for some reason or another. You led him astray and ultimately to his tragic end.”

They were inches away from one another now. As he lowered his hand, his fingers brushed her dress. The pleasurable shiver that ran through him at the brief contact was shocking in its intensity, and he looked down into bright blue eyes that were very much like ice.

“I did not lead Lord Marcus anywhere. We are friends, that is all.”

“Is that right? I had assumed you were keeping him at a distance, waiting for a higher-ranking match. I would be happy to oblige.”

She scoffed but still did not move away from him. “Your brother never wanted me, and I never felt anything for him. In any case, you cannot be sure that Lord Marcus is dead.”

“That is precisely what I wish to find out.”

“And you plan to do so by marrying me? What purpose can that serve?”

“Quite simple, Lady Louise. The Earl will become my father-in-law. Therefore, I will have every excuse to question him about his activities before Marcus’s disappearance. More importantly, by taking you as my wife, I can prevent him from receiving help from anyone else.”

She frowned. “Help for what?”

“Come now, you are not such a simpleton that you cannot see the writing on the wall. A financially secure man does not sell his daughter to the highest bidder.”

That tongue darted out once again to wet her full lips, her brow furrowed behind her mask. He found himself wishing to see her face, wondering what she might do if he ripped her mask away without permission.

“My father despises you. That will not change if we marry.”

“But it will prevent another man from filling his coffers before I have a chance to discover the truth. You know what they say—desperate people have looser tongues. If I need to know something, he’ll have to tell me, and I intend for us to wed without delay.”

She stared at him in bewilderment. “You are a scoundrel, Sir.”

Christian inclined his head. “If the shoe fits.” His hand itched to touch her hair again. “The last place I know Marcus went to was your home. He told me he had something to discuss with your father. I had assumed he wished to propose to you. How ironic.”

Her gown was brushing against the tips of his shoes. One step closer and there would be no space left between them at all. He would be able to wrap his arm around her waist, allow her exquisite scent to envelop him, and press his body fully against her, feeling the swell of her breasts against his chest.

Christian’s breathing had quickened, as had hers, and he held her gaze, refusing to be the first to look away.

“Besides,” he murmured, “there are few women of my acquaintance who do not wish to marry me… among other things.”

Her eyes flashed. “Well, I certainly do not understand their reasoning. You have proved yourself to be despicable, proud, and arrogant, Your Grace. It is only too bad that you are not more like your brother.”

Christian lost the battle with himself and raised a hand to touch her hair again. Quick as a whip, her hand came up as though to slap him. He caught her wrist, holding her firmly against him as he clutched her waist with his other hand and pushed her against the desk behind them.

She gasped, their bodies aligning perfectly, just as he had pictured it. The pale ribbons in her hair shimmered in the candlelight, and Christian felt the heat of her against him. He stroked her wrist with his thumb, watching the movement even as she tried to tug herself free.

As she tried to pull away, he used his larger body to pin her against the desk until she was leaning back, arching away from him, but her eyes never left his face.

“Whether you wish I were more like my brother or not, that means nothing.” He pushed against her more boldly, and that perfect tongue came out to moisten her lips. They were plump and full in the half-light, a sheen on them that he was desperate to taste. “From now on, your hand, your body, even your breaths belong to me. I would suggest you accept it because I intend to own what is mine.”

His voice was a low growl by the end, and he felt a shudder travel through her whole body. She was impossibly beautiful—sparkling eyes looking up at him like diamonds. The jewels on her dress glittered, and she truly did embody an ice queen.

With an immense effort, Christian slowly pulled away, letting go of her wrist when he was sure she would not try to hit him again. She seemed stunned and overwrought, her breath coming out in sharp bursts.

He stepped away and straightened his clothes, ensuring he looked as untouchable as ever before rejoining the party. He bowed low, walked to the door, and turned back to find her utterly speechless.

“I am going to find out what happened to my brother, Lady Louise. You will be the means, and I will claim you as my own.”