Regency Surrender: Ruthless Rakes: Rake Most Likely to Seduce / Rake Most Likely to Sin. Bronwyn Scott
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hospitality, we’ll help ourselves to this item of yours, and be off. We won’t even have to skulk around.’
His plan was starting to sound plausible, safe even, when Nolan said it. There was only one thing. Did they dare wait one more day? How long would the count wait before he demanded she come back to him? If confronted, would Nolan make good on his word not to send her back? Above all, how long would it be before the count could get to Giovanni and hold him for ransom against her return? Against her secrets? She knew already she’d give those secrets up to protect Giovanni, but then how would she support them?
Gianna did quick calculations in her head: How long would it take a message from the count to travel? When would he send it? Surely, not until tomorrow at the earliest and only then if he felt sure she was not coming back. Perhaps she could afford to wait twenty-four more hours, especially if waiting ensured her success and reduced her risk. With Nolan’s plan, they wouldn’t have to break in, only retrieve the item in question.
‘Now that’s settled...’ Nolan smiled, sensing her acquiescence before she gave it ‘...I must thank you for the delicious meal and make my excuses. I need to change and be off.’
‘You’re leaving?’ Gianna trailed behind him into the bedroom. This was not going as planned, but why did that surprise her? Nothing had gone as planned.
Nolan pulled off his coat and undid his cravat, quick hands undoing the buttons on his waistcoat and pulling out the tails of his shirt. ‘Yes. I am committed to a card game this evening and I cannot be late. Can you pass me my evening jacket?’
‘No, I cannot pass you your jacket.’ Gianna fumed. This was not where she’d imagined the evening headed. They were supposed to be in a gondola by now, headed towards the count’s house. Since they weren’t burgling him tonight, she didn’t have a back-up plan for the evening—perhaps do a bit of planning with the masquerade? Go over the layout of the count’s palazzo? Whatever it was, it wasn’t this.
Her temper started to rise. ‘I’ve been stuck in this room all day, I’ve been pricked with needles and pins, draped with bolts of fabric and discussed as if I was nothing but a doll. On top of that, I planned you an excellent meal and all you have to say is “I’m going out”?’
Nolan tossed his old shirt on to the bed, obviously less concerned than she that he was undressing in front of her. He faced her, hands on hips, chest gloriously bare, his arms and torso an exhibition in lean, muscled strength. ‘Yes, I am going out. I am committed to a card game this evening and I cannot be late, not if your penchant for spending my money is any indication of what it will cost me to keep you for the interim. You, my dear, have proven to be a very expensive acquisition. You have me buying wardrobes, eating silver-plated candlelight meals, drinking French champagne and burgling the homes of nobility.’ He reached for a clean shirt and slid his arms into the sleeves. ‘Now, I am going to change my trousers. You are welcome to stay and watch.’
Gianna fought the childish urge to stomp her foot. His arrogance was insufferable! He knew he was an attractive man in and out of his clothing. Two could play this game. ‘I am not that desperate for entertainment. Perhaps, I shall go out as well. There was a concert at San Giorgio I wanted to take in.’ It was true, a quartet of some talent was performing Vivaldi tonight. She moved with brisk efficiency towards the wardrobe where she’d stored some of the items Signora Montefiori was able to leave behind this afternoon. There was a gorgeous, fur-collared cloak she was eager to try.
Nolan’s hand came over her shoulder and slammed shut the wardrobe door, his voice a growl in her ear, ‘Don’t be a fool, Gianna. You can’t possibly go out, not if the count is as dangerous as you say.’
‘Let go of the door, Nolan. You’re being ridiculous. I’ll be perfectly anonymous. It’s dark out, there are revellers everywhere. No one will notice me.’ She flashed him a coy smile over her shoulder, trying to ignore the fact that his half-dressed body was mere inches from hers. ‘The more the merrier, isn’t that right? Why is it that we can hide in plain sight at the masquerade tomorrow, but I can’t hide in plain sight tonight?’ There. Hoisted by his own petard, she thought smugly.
‘Because there’s no “we” tonight. You cannot go out in the dark alone.’
He had a point. Secretly, she was starting to rethink her hasty decision. Hardly anyone would notice her, that much was true, but that also meant no one would notice if anything untoward happened to her. Carnevale was a fun time, a free time, but it could also be a frightening time if one wasn’t careful. She wouldn’t be the first to go missing during Carnevale and never be heard from again. ‘Come with me, then,’ she challenged.
That was the last thing he wanted to do. The longer he was with Gianna, the further from sanity he slipped, and admittedly, he didn’t have the world’s tightest grasp on it to begin with. He needed distance and the card game would provide it. Just being in close proximity with her as he was now, breathing in the herbal scents of her toilet, rosemary and sage with a hint of lavender beneath, was enough to throw caution to the proverbial winds. Having already sat through a dinner, staring at her expressive face, watching her caress the pearl pendant at her throat, he thought caution might as well pack up and leave. It didn’t stand a chance.
Ignoring caution was by no means a rare occurrence for him, he was a risk-taker by nature and by trade, after all. Caution spelled doom. The moment a gambler started being cautious was the moment he lost. But his risks were calculated. Most of the time. He’d gone a little berserk at the Palio in Siena for a good cause, but that could not be the case tonight. He needed his wits. An idea started to form, his mind ran the calculations. His hand released the wardrobe door. ‘All right, we’ll go to the concert.’
He stepped back, distancing himself from the smell of her, the heat of her, watching her as she gathered her things. Gianna flirted and enticed for all the wrong reasons. He wasn’t about to take her to bed under those auspices no matter how tempting she was. As long as she used sex as a weapon, he had to be vigilant for both of them even if his body would prefer otherwise. Before that could happen, he needed her to recognise the power of the weapon she wielded. What would she do if he actually took her up on her offers? There might be a lesson for her in that. The sooner she learned it the better.
Still, Nolan was honest enough to admit that in the past twenty-four hours, Gianna had managed to get him to act not out of logic but out of emotion, not once, but three times. He was helping her because he empathised with her, not because there was any logical reason to do so. There was nothing logical about compassion. As long as he could recognise that, perhaps he wasn’t as far gone as he feared.
Tonight, he would convince her she didn’t want to be anywhere near him and that would buy him all the freedom he needed to keep his distance. He’d invest his time now for freedom tomorrow. If his plan went well, he wouldn’t need to see her at all tomorrow, except for the masquerade. And if that went well, she’d be gone the day after, out of his life, just another adventure that had come and gone. He merely needed to survive the next forty-eight hours. But he was good at surviving. He’d been doing it for years.
* * *
Downstairs in the lobby, Nolan hired a gondola to take them across the canal to San Giorgio Maggiore and whisked Gianna outside into the dark. The fewer people who saw her the better. There was a wide hood on her cloak, but Nolan encouraged her to leave it down. Hiding her face only sent the message that they didn’t want anyone to recognise her. Mystery bred attention.
‘Get in and sit down. No rocking the boat this time,’ he scolded her teasingly as he handed her in. ‘I have no desire for a swim tonight.’ He gave the gondolier their direction and ducked under the felze, taking his seat beside her as the boat pushed away from the pier.
‘Thank you.’ Gianna’s gloved hand squeezed his in friendly appreciation where it lay on his leg. It was an honest and spontaneous gesture devoid of her more sensual flirtations.
Nolan chuckled. ‘Oh, no, you’re thanking me again. That means you want something.’
‘It does not,’ she protested