The Panther & the Pyramid (Khamsin Warriors of the Wind) by Bonnie Vanak Page A

the stakes, transforming from an aloof spectacle to a dashing rogue. Sighs of regret from the eligible girls—and even some prudish chaperones—rippled through the room. Murmurs of censure mingled with them.
    Graham offered a humorless smile. "I think we'd best adjoin to a room where this may be discussed in private. But first, I beg a word with your daughter, Lord Stranton." And without awaiting her father's reply, the duke gripped her elbow and began escorting Jillian out of the ballroom.
    "They shouldn't be alone! It's not proper!" Bernard protested.
    She heard Lord Huntley's ironic reply, "I do believe it's a little late to worry about that."

Chapter Five
     
    Jillian's mind whirled as Graham steered her into the expansive, pine-paneled library and shut the double doors. A brass key remained in the lock. He twisted it, locking them in. Or more likely, her father out.
    He flicked a switch, flooding the room with electric light, and leaned against the door. Crossing his arms, he watched her.
    "You disgraced me!" she said.
    Unsmiling, he regarded her. "I rescued you, Lady Jillian—from that insipid fop determined to marry you. I did not mean to distress you, but I saw a solution best for both of us."
    A flush burned her cheeks. Jillian gripped her gloved hands so hard she felt her nails digging into her palms through the thin silk.
    "Why? Why?"
    "I need a wife. You wanted to run away. Therefore, the solution: marriage to me."
    "I hardly think that is a solution. And if you, sir, were in the market for a wife, surely you could find a willing candidate among the Marriage Mart without creating a scandal!"
    "Perhaps I could find a bride among those giggling, whey-faced chits who circulate at these affairs. But I want you."
    "I'm penniless. And you don't even know me!"
    "We have a better beginning than many marriages. We already know each other's pleasures."
    "You are quite mad," she snapped. "We spend one night together and you declare you do not want to ever see me again, and now you offer me your name?"
    "I changed my mind."
    "I have not. I will not marry you!"
    "You have little choice now," he pointed out.
    It was sheer madness. She felt caught in the vortex of some unstoppable force. "So you're forcing me into marriage by publicly telling society I'm not a virgin? You've ruined my father's good name."
    The duke's expression shifted. His features became hard as granite, his eyes obsidian. She watched, uneasy yet fascinated. Jillian suppressed a shiver, reminding herself of the coiled power she'd glimpsed in the brothel.
    "Ruined? I think not. On the contrary, he's gaining a duke for a son-in-law. And let's not forget finances. Your father is eager to make money from your marriage. I will offer the same marriage settlement Mr. Augustine offered."
    Tears burned the back of her throat. "And the advantages for me, sir, once my father is paid? There are none."
    A knock sounded at the heavy wood door. She started.
    "Jillian? Your Grace?" her father called out.
    The duke ignored it, watching her intently. She put a knuckle to her mouth, wanting to run away. Her nervous gaze darted toward the French doors at the library's far west wall.
    Graham crossed the room to her. His voice was low and cajoling. "Running away isn't the answer, Jillian. I will provide generously for you and you'll have wealth and position. Just ask and I'll give it to you. Jewels. Furs. Gowns from the finest Parisian couturiers. Anything your heart desires."
    "Anything my heart desires?" Jillian laughed. Oh, this was too priceless. Yes, he'd give her anything but the one thing she desired most: her freedom.
    "What use is a fine gown and position when all of society sees me as a fallen woman? They can't wait to rip me to shreds."
    The doorknob rattled—her father, trying to get inside. "Your Grace, a word please. I must speak with you," his disembodied voice called out.
    Graham glanced at the door. "They'll forget about our rather questionable beginning once