Of Noble Birth by Brenda Novak Page A

attract the attention of that
brougham. It was a smart move. She knew he couldn’t harm her if he
wanted to trade her for Richard. She had taken a calculated risk,
and Nathaniel considered himself lucky that it hadn’t panned out
for her.
    He frowned, glancing down
at the foot of the bed where Anne’s head kept nodding off its perch
upon her knees. She was indeed a brave girl. Every victory he
obtained at her expense was hard-won. Perhaps he could be a little
easier on her.
    Nathaniel untied the rope
around the post, cursing himself for being a softhearted fool.
Using his good arm for strength and his
stump for balance, he gently lifted Anne and laid her on the other
side of the bed. She stirred but didn’t come fully awake. Then he
fastened the rope to the post above her head and covered her with
blankets.
    Lying back down, Nathaniel
moved carefully so he wouldn’t wake her. It had been a long day. He
watched his captive curl into a ball, giving the appearance of
almost childlike innocence, and felt a flicker of desire at the
sight of her more feminine curves.
    Shocked by his body’s
effrontery, he quickly diverted his thoughts. Anne was his sister.
Beyond that, she had been raised with everything he had been
denied—the money, the power, the family. He should hate
her.
    And he did, Nathaniel told
himself. It was just that any woman so fair of face and form would
make his pulse quicken. But when he fell asleep he dreamed of long
blond hair spilling down onto his naked chest. And the woman above
him was Anne.
    He woke suddenly,
disgusted that his subconscious would betray him with such
incestuous fantasy. It had been too long since he had enjoyed the
company of the fairer sex, he decided. Planning to remedy that as
soon as he could and thereby put a quick end to the madness of his
mind, he shifted in the bed to ease a cramped muscle and felt
Anne’s womanly softness pressed to his backside. She had migrated
the full length of the rope toward him, instinctively searching for
the warmth his body radiated.
    Nathaniel swallowed hard
as the flicker of desire he had experienced earlier flared again,
fanned by his dream and the wonderful feel of her. Anne had no idea
where she was, he knew, and he smiled to think of how she might
react if she were to awaken at this moment.
    No doubt she’d try to hit
him again. He touched his cheek where she had slapped him earlier
and decided he was glad her hands were tied.
    Anne murmured something
unintelligible, then snuggled more closely against him. He decided
not to disturb her. Though he dared not allow himself to touch the
flesh that molded so comfortably to his side, the light scent of
perfume that clung to her clothes was a treat in itself.
    * * *
    Alexandra woke by degrees.
Sun filtered into the room through a large gap in the draperies,
which had been drawn across the window. For a moment she imagined
herself in her own bed. She burrowed deeper into the quilts,
luxuriating in their warmth, until something, or rather someone,
moved. Then the events of the previous day came back to her in a
flood of remembering. Nathaniel! What was he up to now?
    Her eyelids flew open, but
she couldn’t see him. He was behind her, his chest to her back, his
legs curving beneath her buttocks. The last thing she recalled was
the cold, hard floor. How did she come to be in his bed?
    Lying very still,
Alexandra listened as Nathaniel’s slow, regular breathing tickled
the hair above her ear. His body was relaxed, formed comfortably to
her own. She was certain he was asleep. But he was more like a
black panther than a man. Sleek, well muscled, always wary, he
could pounce anytime. She’d have to be very careful.
    Cautiously inching away,
Alexandra wondered again how she came to be in that cozy spot. She
had never been so close to a man. Willy had kept her closeted away,
toiling in the house or garret. The pleasures typically associated
with intimacy remained a complete mystery, but the feelings