“Achoo!”
Jamie glared down at her, tightening his grip on her upper arm. “Quiet.”
He shoved her through a door.
Georgina stumbled, tripping over her slippers, but caught herself.
Jamie pointed to the lone sofa in the room. “Sit.”
Pride urged her to resist his laconic orders.
The will to survive drove her into the stiff leather seat.
Jamie tapped his finger along his jaw, studying her as if she were a species of insect he’d never seen before. With a growl, he turned away from Georgina and walked over to the heavily curtained window. He didn’t pull back the thick, red velvet, merely stood there in silence, his gaze fixed on the fabric.
Georgina used his distraction to study her surroundings. Perched on the edge of a brown leather sofa, she peered around the spacious office within the factory. There was little doubt this was one of her father’s holdings, though she’d never been inside his warehouses. She’d known he had buildings in Bristol and London but hadn’t put much thought into how he spent his days—she’d just been so very grateful for his absence.
She looked on with no small amount of curiosity. Or awe for the vast wealth demonstrated in the Aubusson carpets or the wall-length shelves of leather books. Instead, her stomach churned at the prospect of facing her father, and she had to quell the urge to look over her shoulder to see if he lurked in the shadows of the room.
Time marched to the tune of the tick-tock, tick-tock of the tarnished silver clock atop the vast, mahogany desk. Jamie did not utter a single word. He stood in the exact same pose, as still as one of Da Vinci’s marble works of art. His biceps tensed so tightly, the muscles strained the expensive sapphire fabric of his coat.
Jamie had never been one to keep his rage in check. Over the years, he’d exercised his anger and frustrations quite freely. This unpredictable figure—rage seething beneath the surface of his immaculate fa?ade—was, oddly, more threatening.
Georgina inched to the edge of her seat, casting surreptitious looks between Jamie’s back and the door, measuring the distance. A good six feet separated them and, with the added obstacle of the desk, she suspected she had another foot or so advantage.
The leather creaked beneath her and she winced.
Jamie spun to face her, his gaze narrowed into near impenetrable slits.
When Georgina had been a small girl, she’d watched the kitchen cat corner a mouse. The fat, white and black spotted creature had pranced and danced about, occasionally hitting the tiny mouse with its paw. Georgina had stared on with a sick fascination as the cat had hunkered down, his intense gaze honed in on the motionless mouse. Then the creature had made one desperate attempt to flee. The cat had taken him between his teeth, shaking him with a frenzy, until the poor thing had gone still.
Georgina now felt a remarkable oneness with that tiny, forgotten mouse. She forced herself to take a breath. She would not lie in wait for Jamie to devour her. “I imagine I’ve done something to displease you. But then that would be nothing new, would it?” She forced her chin up.
Jamie folded his hands in front of him. “It isn’t just me you’ve displeased.”
Father.
“Your father is quite disappointed in you, my dear.”
Bitterness made her rash. “But then, have I ever really pleased my father?”
Jamie turned around to face her, though the desk remained a protective barrier between them. “Do you realize you’ve not yet asked what caused our anger?”
Georgina had a strong suspicion she didn’t need to hear the revelation. “Is it my dismal entrance into London Society?”
A sharp bark of laughter escaped him. His eyes, however, were dead of all emotion. He strolled out from behind the desk.
Georgina stole another glance over her shoulder.
“Don’t even think about it,” he commanded.
Her head shot around. “Think about what?”
She burrowed within the folds of her seat when Jamie flew across the room, closing the distance between them. He leaned forward, bracing his arms on either side of her seat. “Do you take me for a bloody fool?” he snapped.
Spit landed on her cheek and Georgina itched to wipe the filth away. “You’re not a fool, Jamie. A traitor and a cruel beast, but not a fool.”
Jamie’s face froze, but then, as though her words amused him, he smiled. “If you didn’t believe I was a fool, why would you run so quickly back to the Crown with the name I gave you?”
She started.
“Yes, my dear.” The words were hardly an endearment. “We gave you a false contact. Poor Ackerly was physically removed from his townhouse and thoroughly questioned.”
Georgina’s eyes went wide as the dawning horror settled in. “He isn’t a Republican.” Of course, they’d given her a false name to test her loyalty.
How could I have been so na?ve?
Jamie confirmed her worst fears. “That’s right.” He chuckled. “Though after the questioning he received, I’d imagine he isn’t too fond of the Crown.”
Georgina closed her eyes.
This is bad. This is very bad, indeed.
She had thought, at worst, mayhap Jamie had learned of her connection with the Duke of Aubrey, but she’d hoped he’d only been speaking on suspicion of guilt. The truth was a deal more troubling—they had trapped her in her duplicity.
“Hmm? Nothing to say?” Like the kitchen cat, his paw was out.
No. There is nothing to say.
He lowered his brow to hers, his breath brushed her nose.
She remained motionless and a pit settled in her stomach.
If he has lascivious intentions, there is no one to prevent Jamie from forcing himself on me. I would be helpless to stop him.
The hot, feral gleam in his eyes indicated that he had followed the exact direction of Georgina’s thoughts. He rubbed his thumb along her lower lip, his gaze dropping to study the plump flesh.
A whore’s mouth, her father used to say. Georgina had never known what her father had meant—until just now.
Jamie lowered his lips, and Georgina cringed, biting the inside of her cheek when suddenly he stopped.
“Do you know I would have given you everything and anything you ever desired, Georgina? Do you know I would have dressed you in the finest silks and satins, adorning you like a queen?” He cupped her jaw with one hand. “You’re no longer a stuttering child, afraid of her shadow.” His words sounded like a lover’s endearment.
Georgina broke contact with his heated gaze, lowering her eyes. “You know those things never mattered to me, Jamie,” she said with a trace of sadness and regret. “I just wanted to live a normal life.”
Please God, spare me his advances.
There was no God. Jamie took her lips in a hard, punishing kiss, his assault, a gross violation. Shivers of revulsion wracked her frame, and she pulled back, trying to dislodge him. Jamie wrapped a hand around her head, anchoring her in place, and Georgina could not fight him.