Of Noble Birth (9 page)

Anne’s head lolled on his
shoulder.

Nathaniel began to worry
that something might really be wrong. Scaling the stairs as quickly
as possible, he flung back the door to their room and laid her on
the bed. Then he removed the hood and the gag.

She was unconscious.
Nathaniel stared down at her, feeling a twinge of guilt at having
abducted a completely innocent woman. His half sister was not to
blame for the way his father had treated him, but Nathaniel could
figure no better way to obtain Richard’s release. And his friend
had to come first.

With his stiletto,
Nathaniel cut the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles. Then he
began to massage her hands and feet, trying to improve the blood
flow. He had heard much about his sister’s beauty. Looking at her
now, he had to admit that the reports fell far short of reality.
Silky strands of long golden hair, loosened from her coiffure,
gleamed around a delicate oval face. Thick lashes rested on her
cheeks. She had a small, pert nose and a full, sensual mouth.
Nathaniel couldn’t help but remember the feel of her soft lips
beneath his own. That he’d actually enjoyed the sensation greatly
bothered him.

He had to be careful, or
he would become as weak willed as Trenton and Tiny. Though he had
never seen Anne before, she was his half sister. She and a son had
been born to the duke and his second wife after the death of
Nathaniel’s own mother, and anything so closely connected to
Greystone was—had to be—anathema to him.

Nathaniel dropped Anne’s
hand when her eyes fluttered open.

“Where am I?” she asked,
then groaned when she saw him. “I hoped you were just another bad
dream. But dreams don’t taste like blood, do they?”

“No.” Nathaniel turned as
a knock resounded at the door. “That’s our supper. You’re hungry,
no doubt.”

Anne rubbed her temples as
though trying to relieve a headache. “Among other things,” she said
dryly. “Providing meals must be one of the problems associated with
abducting people.”

Nathaniel paused to look
back at her. “Keeping them sane is another. That hood makes you a
little crazy.”

“I wasn’t afraid of the
dark before...”

“Before what?”

“Before Willy.”

The knock came again.
Nathaniel crossed the room to answer it. “Who’s Willy?” he asked,
his hand on the knob.

Anne sighed. “You wouldn’t
believe me if I told you.”

* * *

Supper consisted of
poached salmon, jacket potatoes, cut greens, leg of mutton, and
several dishes Alexandra didn’t recognize. She ate ravenously. She
had seldom experienced such sumptuous fare and had no intention of
letting any of it go to waste, despite her
circumstances.

The food seemed to appeal
to Nathaniel less. He sat back and watched her, occasionally
tipping a glass of wine to his lips.

“Do you always eat so
voraciously?” he asked in amazement when Alexandra ladled seconds
onto her plate. “Or is it your strategy to break me before your
father can send for you?”

She glanced up to see a
smile play at the corners of his mouth.

“I haven’t had a bite to
eat all day,” she complained. “Besides, food takes my mind off the
pain in my hands and feet. They ache terribly, you
know.”

His brows lifted. “Yes,
you look as though you’re in a great deal of pain.”

“I am,” Alexandra cried
indignantly. “You and your men are brutes to keep me tied up all
day.”

“I’m holding you for
ransom. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

He was teasing her.
Alexandra ignored him, savoring her last bite of a delicious
pudding she had never tasted before and could not now identify. The
hotel room wasn’t large, but it was clean. Decorated in ivory and
green and furnished with a tester bed, an elaborate washstand with
a tiled back, a large wardrobe, and a thick pile rug to cover the
wood floor, it lacked only a fireplace. Had Alexandra been staying
at the inn for any other reason, she might have found it quite
comfortable.

“If you consume so much
when you’re hurt and upset, I’d hate to see what you require when
you’re not. I pray you don’t forgive me,” he chuckled, intruding
upon her thoughts.

“There’s not much danger
in that.” Alexandra tried to put some fire into her words, but it
was difficult to sound angry when she was so full and sleepy.
Besides, she had been right about Nathaniel. He was exceptionally
handsome when he smiled. She let her gaze slide over his face,
feeling a blush rise to her cheeks as she remembered the feel of
his tongue parting her lips.

“I’m glad to see that
you’re at least as tired as I am,” he commented, oblivious to the
course of her thoughts. “Otherwise, it would be difficult to sleep
on the floor.”

She grimaced, wondering
how she could have thought him appealing only a moment before. He
was a black-hearted scoundrel, nothing more. “I expected as much.
You’d think you’d treat your sister with at least a little kindness
and respect.” Alexandra knew she was foolish to play on Nathaniel’s
belief that she was Lady Anne, but his haughtiness goaded her. “Do
I at least get a blanket or a pillow?”

“You’ll get what you
earn.”

Alexandra set her fork on
the table with a
thunk.
“What does that mean?”

“I could use a good
massage.”

“Hire a maid.”

“Why should I, when I’ve
got you? Besides, I can’t exactly bind and gag you and sit you in
the corner. And I can’t invite anyone to my room with you on the
loose.”

Alexandra picked her fork
back up and twirled it thoughtfully. “Only if I can earn the bed,”
she said at last. “An hour’s massage for one night of sound
sleep.”

“A massage from a woman
unused to giving that sort of thing—of giving anything—isn’t worth
the bed. My best offer is a pillow and a blanket.”

“I have strong hands.”
Alexandra stood, rounded the table, and began to knead his
shoulders.

He moaned. “Very well. You
can earn the bed.”

Alexandra smiled to
herself. Mayhap she could cause Nathaniel to lower his guard after
all.

When Nathaniel had set
their dishes outside the door, he removed his shirt, exposing broad
shoulders that tapered to a lean waist. A matting of dark hair
covered his chest, trailing down his flat stomach to a mysterious
end somewhere below his belt.

Alexandra had to fight the
impulse to stare. This man was a criminal. He had abducted her. Yet
she could not explain the tremor that went through her at the sight
of his naked torso.

With effort, she pulled
her gaze away and had him lie across the bed. She was not
experienced with massage to any great extent, though sometimes her
fellow needlewomen relieved the aches and pains caused from long
hours of sitting by rubbing one another’s backs. Alexandra felt
somewhat confident she could improvise from there. Of course,
Nathaniel expected her to have received many massages over her
lifetime. Such luxury was a favorite pastime of the
aristocracy.

Nathaniel’s back was
smooth and tanned to a honey brown. Though Alexandra couldn’t help
noticing his narrow hips, firm buttocks and long legs, it was his
deformed arm that held her interest the longest. It was misshapen,
to be sure, but it wasn’t a hideous appendage. The same golden skin
covered it as the other.

“What’s wrong?”
Nathaniel’s eyes seemed to measure Alexandra carefully. “Are you
going to give me a massage, or do you share our father’s distaste
for my deformity?”

Alexandra glanced away,
embarrassed to have been caught gaping at him. “I was just
wondering how I was going to get you off the bed should you fall
asleep on it,” she lied.

“You wouldn’t get me off.
You’d run away. That’s why I won’t fall asleep.”

Alexandra smiled in spite
of herself. He thought he had guessed her plan. Perhaps she could
surprise him.

Climbing onto the bed, she
positioned herself on her knees for maximum strength, then began to
smooth out the corded muscles in Nathaniel’s back and neck. An
occasional sigh told her she was successful in her desire to relax
him, and to her surprise, she soon found herself enjoying her work.
Nathaniel’s physical attributes were exceptional, from his thick
black hair to his cleft chin. And there was something sensual about
the way he smelled—all dust and sweat, leather and
horses.

As Alexandra’s hands
glided over his warm skin, she wondered about the vendetta between
Nathaniel and the Duke of Greystone. Why did Nathaniel hate his
father so badly? Why would he risk a hangman’s noose to capture his
sister? And what would he do when he finally learned that she was
not Lady Anne?

Alexandra dismissed the
last question as irrelevant. She wouldn’t be around to find out.
She’d be well on her way to London and to the safety of her
aunt.

Nathaniel’s eyes closed,
and Alexandra felt the tension leave his body. She doubted he was
asleep, but she only needed to dull his reaction by a fraction of a
second. Keeping one hand working the muscles on each side of his
spine, she reached back for the stiletto he kept in his right
boot.

Groaning softly when her
fingers touched a particularly tender spot, Nathaniel shifted as if
to make himself more comfortable. Alexandra almost had the knife.
Gently lifting the leg of his pant, she quickly grasped the handle
and pulled. The stiletto slid easily from its place, but
Nathaniel’s reflexes were quicker than her own. He had her on her
back, pinned beneath him, before she could threaten him in any
way.

“It would seem my massage
is being cut short, so to speak.” He grinned, squeezing her hand
until she dropped the knife. “Too bad. It felt good while it
lasted, perhaps proving that even you have a few redeeming talents.
Now I shall enjoy a good night’s rest while you languish on the
floor.”

“You had no intention of
giving me the bed. You were only using it to bait me.”

“Let’s just say that I
have now learned what I needed to know. At least I won’t feel
guilty while you sit on the floor, tied like a dog to the
post.”

Alexandra tried to free
her hands from his punishing grip. She wanted to wipe that enraging
smirk off his face. “I’ll scream if you bring that rope near
me.”

“Then I’ll gag you. For
someone who hates a hood, you’re willing to risk much.”

“You’re a cad.”

“Which is far better than
a fool, and a fool I’d be to let you get the better of
me.”

His eyes glittered like
sun glinting off a blue sea, and Alexandra realized that Nathaniel
might be many things, but a fool he was not. He had the senses of a
cat, and the athletic prowess to match.

“Let me up,” she said.
“You’re hurting me.”

“Certainly.” Kicking the
knife far away from her reach, Nathaniel let her go. “No doubt
you’re ready to retire, now that sleeping arrangements have been
made.”

Almost before Alexandra
knew her own mind, her hand lashed out and slapped Nathaniel’s
jeering face. They both rocked back, surprised when her palm hit
its target with such force. A red welt appeared almost
instantly.

“I’m glad you’re so eager
to deserve whatever treatment you receive,” he said, grabbing her
by the arm and dragging her to the foot of the bed. “I was going to
leave you enough rope to lie down, but with your peculiar brand of
wisdom, you’d only hang yourself with it.”

“No!” Unwilling to suffer
the pain and degradation of being tied up all night, Alexandra
began to struggle again. But it was only a matter of minutes before
her hands were bound in front of her and then tied to the bed. As
Nathaniel had promised, she didn’t have enough rope to lie
down.

“You’d better hope I don’t
get free,” she threatened. “ You have to sleep
sometime.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he
replied. “Perhaps I’m giving you too much credit, but if you do
manage to get loose, it wouldn’t be a good idea to bother with me.
The door is that way.”

“Oh... you! You’re
insufferable!” Bringing her knees up between her arms, Alexandra
laid her head down and tried to block Nathaniel from her
consciousness. She soon realized, however, that she would have to
address him again.

“You’ve got to untie me.
I’ve got to...” she stopped, wondering how to tell him what she
needed. “A lady needs a little privacy occasionally.”

He crossed the room and
retrieved the chamber pot from its place behind a cloth curtain in
one corner of the room.

“You’re not going to untie
me?” Alexandra asked in surprise.

“You don’t deserve
it.”

“But how will
I—”

“You’ll figure it
out.”

“I deserve to take care of
natural bodily functions without you watching my every
move.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I
have no interest in watching you.” He stretched out on the bed,
lying on his stomach, his face buried in the crook of his
arm.