Rake Most Likely to Seduce

by Bronwyn Scott

  ‘Look what it’s got you,’ Gianna pressed. ‘You’ve had to pull me out of the canal, you’ve had to vacate your hotel, you’ve had to defend yourself at knifepoint on not one, but two occasions, you’ve broken into an asylum and a palazzo. You’ve stolen a patient and a jewel case. You’ve had to leave your worldly possessions behind. You’ve traded your clothes for a wagon and an old horse.’

  Nolan’s grin spread wider. He flopped on the bed, making her bounce with the impact. ‘Yes, I have and I’ve had the time of my life. This is the best adventure I’ve had in a while. I’m in no hurry to end it.’ He stared at her with laughing eyes. ‘That rather takes the wind out of your argumentative sails, doesn’t it?’ He looked altogether too pleased with himself.

  ‘How about this, then? People don’t get married on a one-week acquaintance. You had barely met me this time last week.’

  ‘Correction. Normal people don’t get married on a week-long recommendation.’ Nolan was insufferable. ‘We established some time ago, you and I aren’t normal. Ergo, we shouldn’t feel bound by the constraints of normal courtship.’

  ‘Enough with your ergo! You can’t just throw a Latin word in there and make it all better.’ She was losing this battle hard. The situation was degenerating quickly. Who was she fooling, it had already degenerated. Gianna grabbed a pillow and swung it at him.

  ‘Oof!’ Nolan scrambled up. ‘That does it. I am done talking about this. I am just going to make love to you until you agree.’ He grabbed her about the waist, and she went down under him with a squeal of pseudo-indignation. He pinned her wrists above her head, but there was nothing intimidating here, just good fun and pleasure, one more addictive facet of Nolan Gray.

  She climaxed fast with him, her eyes fixed on his face as release took him, that smile, those laughing eyes that drank up the joy in every minute. And yet, he could be fierce in bed and out. She was in so much trouble. It would be too easy to say yes, to lay her burdens at his feet. It would be far harder to say no, but no would have to be her answer, for his sake. Some day he would understand that. She had tonight. In the morning she and Giovanni would be gone because sometimes the only way to win an argument was to simply leave.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nolan’s arm reached out across the bed, his body searching for Gianna before he was even awake, already anticipating the feel of her warm curves against him, the swell of her breast in his hand as he drew her to him. He found paper, dry, thin, crinkled paper. His eyes opened, every instinct screaming something was wrong. The fact that there was enough daylight to read by and that was wrong, too.

  He held the paper up to the window light. There were only two words on the torn half-sheet. ‘Thank you.’ They were not two words that usually struck terror into the heart of a man who gambled with a knife up his sleeve and gun in his pocket but they did now. Dammit! What had she gone and done?

  ‘Gianna!’ he called out in the hope she was nearby, perhaps next door with Giovanni. Nolan gathered up his clothes from the floor, hastily pulling on trousers and a shirt. He tried to think beyond the panic. Panic was irrational. He had to be logical. If she wasn’t next door, perhaps she was downstairs having breakfast. But the panic in him knew better, the panic knew exactly what she meant with her two words.

  Nolan swung his greatcoat about his shoulders and looked about the room for any left-behind items out of habit. How late was it? He didn’t know. He’d traded his pocket watch for a wagon and horse, neither of which could tell the time and—Lucifer’s balls!—were most likely gone. That sent him pounding down the stairs and out into the yard.

  ‘Buongiorno!’ The ostler ran over, looking harried. ‘It’s been a busy morning. What can I do for you?’

  ‘The woman with the dark hair and the blind brother, when did she leave?’

  ‘Right after sunrise. She took the wagon.’ The ostler looked at him slyly, suspecting he was on the cusp of a juicy story. Beautiful women didn’t drive off in wagons without cause. ‘Did she steal from you, too? Not that I would mind, a thief that pretty can have whatever she liked from me.’

  ‘Too?’ Nolan interrupted abruptly.

  ‘There were two men on horseback who came through here around eight this morning, riding hard. They were looking for her, had her description down perfectly and the boy.’

  ‘What time is it now?’ A cold pit settled in Nolan’s stomach. Gianna had left him, had wanted to leave him, and now she was out on the open road with no protection and the count behind her. The count would catch her. He and Lippi would travel far faster on horseback than she could by slow wagon, assuming she even knew how to drive a wagon with any skill.

  ‘I would guess it’s just after nine.’ The ostler shrugged.

  Nolan pulled out a coin from last night’s winnings. ‘I need a horse.’ He shaded his eyes and looked down the road. There was only one direction for them to have gone and that was towards Verona.

  The ostler took the money but shook his head. ‘I haven’t got much to offer you. The two gentlemen switched horses and took our fresh ones. The horses have only had an hour’s rest, but they’re fed and watered.’

  They were strong, too. Nolan checked their hooves and ran a hand over their flanks, their coats cool. They weren’t too winded, then. ‘I’ll take this one.’ He chose the powerful-chested black and dug in his pocket for more coin. Within minutes he was off, cutting across country to make up time and riding as fast he dared to push the horse. He had to reach Gianna in time—no, that was heroic thinking. She was nearly three hours ahead of him. But the count was only an hour ahead. Nolan readjusted his thinking. He needed to reach the count before the count reached Gianna.

  Brennan would be saying, ‘I told you so’ and laughing his head off at the irony of him, the student of human nature, taken in so completely by a woman. He would say Gianna had used him and left him when the using was over. She’d got him to break into a palazzo and abduct a patient from an asylum, and then left him cold.

  There, Brennan would be wrong. She hadn’t left him cold. She’d left him hot and that was all Nolan needed to know. The real irony was that if she was using him, she would have stayed. She would have recognised the need for him—he had value as an armed man who would fight for her, who would make arrangements for them, who had the ability to see them sheltered and fed. Instead, she’d left him out of a misguided notion of protecting him. She was giving him his freedom, his life. Quite likely at the expense of hers.

  Nolan pulled on to the road, giving the horse a chance to walk and breathe. What did she think would happen when the count caught her? Had he not spelled that scenario out for her clearly enough last night? The count would not do it quickly either.

  Luck was with him. The roads were not too muddy, but every ounce of speed the roads gave him, they’d already given to the count. He urged the horse into a trot, thinking positively. When he caught up to the count, what resources did he have at his disposal? His knife in his sleeve stood ready, but his little gun was empty; the shots were used back at the hotel in Venice during their getaway. There had been no opportunity to reload. All of his remaining bullets, specially made for the secret second barrel, were back at the Danieli. Even so, the list was not impressive. These were weapons for a quick defence of his person. They were not weapons designed for launching an offensive assault.

  A large object loomed ahead in the road, dark against the grey winter sky. Nolan suddenly felt very alone. He slipped his knife from its sheath. The last thing he needed was Italian bandits. Was there an ambush up ahead? Was it the count? He was missing Haviland and Archer, and even Brennan. They would have his back. If they’d been here, they would never have let him ride off alone no matter what their outlook on Gianna might be.

  Nolan slowed the horse and swore. Bandits would have been preferable to this. The object pulled to the side of the road was the wagon and
it was empty, no horse in sight. Nolan swung to the ground, investigating the wagon and telling himself not to panic. There was no need to jump to conclusions. Wagons were abandoned for all sorts of reasons: a broken axle, a wheel that had come off. But there was no sign of mechanical difficulty. Perhaps they had ridden off, although it seemed an odd choice. The horse wouldn’t get far carrying two.

  Nolan came around the wagon side and halted, his hand going reflexively to his mouth. The horse lay on its side, shot through the head, dead. Flies had begun to gather. He hadn’t been able to see it from where he’d dismounted. It was an entirely senseless act. The horse could do nothing to the count. But Nolan knew why the count had done it: to intimidate Gianna. Nolan closed his eyes, trying to dispel images of Gianna stranded here, faced with the two men, trying to protect her brother, standing between Giovanni and the count. Had the count threatened Giovanni, too, to gain her compliance?

  Nolan didn’t want to do it, but he had to know. How long ago did this happen? He stooped and touched a hand to the horse’s body, dipped a fingertip in the pool of blood. There were still traces of warmth. An hour maybe. He would catch up to them by evening. He hoped Gianna would last that long, but he couldn’t guarantee it. The count might tire of his games and take the more expedient route to her fortune.

  Nolan threw his head back to the sky with a sharp howl. ‘Damn!’ At least she wasn’t lying dead on the side of the road with the horse. While he was glad for it, it did puzzle him. They were out in the middle of nowhere with no witnesses. Why hadn’t the count simply taken the diamonds and killed them both? It would be expedient and Lippi wasn’t beyond such direct measures. It made Nolan’s gut go cold to think of the reasons it hadn’t happened. The count was after revenge as well as diamonds. Perhaps he intended to make Gianna pay in other ways. Whatever the reason, Nolan should be glad there was still time.

  Nolan kicked the ground with his boot and strode out onto the verge. He ran a hand through his hair. He needed to think before he got back on the horse. Rushing off hot wouldn’t serve Gianna when he caught up to her. He needed a calm perspective. He nearly stepped on a long, slim, brown-velvet box not far from the road. Nolan’s breath caught. He knew this box! He flipped open the lid to confirm the contents. Gianna’s diamonds. Had she tried to run? Had she thrown them on purpose in the moments before the count caught her?

  Nolan picked them up and put the box inside his greatcoat. Smart girl. Losing the diamonds would keep her and Giovanni alive a little longer. Once the count realised she didn’t have them on her, he would also realise she was the only one who knew where they were, the only one who could help him retrieve them. It wouldn’t solve her problems, but it would buy her some time.

  Nolan returned to the horse and swung up. ‘We’ve farther to go, my friend.’ Gianna was waiting for him. The future was waiting for him on the road to Verona. He would not hesitate to bargain the diamonds for her. No fortune was worth her life. Nolan kicked the horse forward. He would not fail her.

  * * *

  Gianna sat rigidly in front of the count on his great beast. She kept her body aloof from his, hardly able to tolerate the iron band of his arm about her for balance. She would have fallen without it. A broken arm or a sprained ankle was not what she needed right now. If there was a chance to run, she’d need all of her parts functioning. But the press of his thighs, the heat of his groin, were intimacies she could do without, especially with memories of Nolan and last night still fresh in her mind.

  She let her thoughts wander a now-familiar path. Had Nolan found the necklace? Was he even on the road or had he decided to let her go? Perhaps he had woken this morning, seen her note and said ‘good riddance’. Maybe even now, he was on the road back to Venice and his luxurious hotel room. It was what any normal man would do, but Nolan had proved to be far from normal. He’d proved to be extraordinary, in fact. Not just in bed or in looks, but in his person.

  If she were a selfless person she would be hoping he didn’t come after her, that he’d take all that extraordinariness of his and flee the mess of her life. But she wasn’t selfless. She’d spent her selfless quotient that morning. It had taken all her willpower to leave Nolan’s warm bed knowing she meant to leave it permanently. Now, she was merely selfish and the selfish person in her was hoping against hope that he’d come after her. But until that happened, she had an obligation to rescue herself and Giovanni.

  She glanced over at Giovanni, riding behind Romano Lippi. She did not regret leaving this morning, however, even knowing how that had turned out. It was the noble thing to do. Nolan had proposed marriage last night. She couldn’t allow him to throw his life away just to keep her safe. If she loved him, if she truly cared for him, leaving was the best gift she could give him. Giovanni had protested, of course. He’d not liked being awakened before dawn and he had not liked the idea of leaving Nolan. Already, Nolan had impressed Giovanni with his kindness.

  She’d had to listen to Giovanni enumerate Nolan’s praises the whole first hour on the road. It hadn’t made leaving any easier. She couldn’t argue with Giovanni because he was right, except about maybe the last thing. ‘He cares for you deeply,’ Giovanni had concluded his arguments. ‘I can hear it in his words, in his tone when he speaks to you. I think you like him, too. You should stay and let him help us.’ But she had not turned back. An hour later, the count and Lippi had run them off the road at gunpoint.

  Those had been horrific moments. Instinctively, she and Giovanni had tried to get off the wagon box and run, but the two of them were no match for armed men on horseback. Still, the effort had bought her time enough to hide the diamonds in the grass. Having the diamonds on her was an immediate death sentence. She’d hid them not a moment too soon. Lippi had turned his gun on Giovanni while the count conducted a rather thorough and aggressive search of her person. Her cheek still stung from the force of his hand across her face when he’d realised they weren’t on her.

  ‘Where are they?’ he’d demanded.

  ‘Where do you think?’ she’d shot back, forgetting their danger for a moment as her temper soared.

  ‘If I knew, do you think I’d have followed you? I would have simply taken them,’ the count had growled. ‘Romano, the pistol!’

  The hammer had clicked behind her, not for her, but for Giovanni and she’d remembered their danger. She had not needed to act horrified as she choked out her lie. ‘Venice, they are still in Venice.’

  It had satisfied the count. It was plain that he would not kill her until he had the diamonds in his hand. She had a little power left. They would return to Venice. But she’d only bought them some time, a day and half at most. When they got to Venice and the diamonds weren’t there, what then? She hoped they wouldn’t make it to Venice. She hoped Nolan would see the wagon, find the diamonds and come after her long before that. It was admittedly a lot to hope for, especially since the man most likely to help her was also the man she’d sent away. ‘Do you know what happens to you if you’re lying?’ The count had twisted her arm up behind her back in a cruel grip. That was when the count had shot the horse, making it clear that no defiance on her part would be tolerated. She had screamed, the count had laughed.

  But it got worse. They didn’t turn back towards Venice. They kept going forward. ‘I want to see who comes down that road, don’t you, Romano?’ He’d laughed wickedly. ‘I’m surprised we’ve only got two of our birds in our net.’ His hand had run over her breast. ‘Or have you chased off our Englishman? I rather thought he’d be with you. I am told he was with you yesterday.’

  The count called over to Romano, ‘Let’s stop at the next inn and make it easy on our Englishman. I bet he’s here by afternoon, just in time for tea, as those British say.

  ‘Are you excited to see your lover again, Gianna, one last time before I dispatch you both to your reward?’ The count’s voice drawled at her ear. ‘Of course, I’ve been thin
king I might spare you if you married me even after I have the diamonds and you can tell me how Englishmen fare against a real lover.’

  ‘He’s not coming,’ Gianna answered stoically. It was too bad. If she ever saw Nolan again, she’d tell him more than thank you. She’d tell him she loved him because he was too extraordinary not to love.

  The count’s hand hefted a breast as if he were testing a fruit for ripeness. She stiffened at the intimate contact.

  ‘After he’s had this, Gianna? Oh, he’s coming, all right.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  If he hadn’t seen the horses, Nolan would have ridden straight through. There was a stone-and-brick building that advertised as an inn and a few other smaller stone homes that stood guardian over the fields. The place hardly qualified as a village, but the count was here, Nolan would bet on it. No one else would have such fine animals in such a remote place. He slid off his horse and felt in his pocket for his dwindling supply of coins, calling to a boy idling in front of the building, ‘Who owns those two horses?’

  The boy puffed up with importance. ‘Two fine men from Venice. One them says he’s a count.’ The boy looked Nolan up and down. ‘Are you a count, too?’

  Nolan laughed. ‘Hardly.’ He offered the boy a coin. ‘Take care of my mount and have him at the ready. When I come out, I’m going to need him fast. You might want to have one of those other two ready as well.’ He hoped Gianna could ride. He would have to take Giovanni up behind him. Another thought occurred to Nolan. ‘Did the count take a private parlour or a room?’ He wanted to know what he was walking into, it would determine how he entered the room. Would he be face-to-face with the count immediately?

  ‘A private parlour, signor. He had a lady with him.’ The boy held his hand out for another coin. At this rate, he was going to be broke. Nolan paid him, then stepped into the inn. He nodded to the innkeeper behind the bar, letting his eyes adjust to the dim interior. The taproom was empty and the innkeeper raised an eyebrow.