A Duke's Wicked Kiss (Entangled Select) (24 page)

What the devil did he know about matters of the heart? His parents, contracted in marriage as babes, had detested one another. There were no sisters to relate to, only equally insecure brothers, the three of them growing up wondering how a drunken father and glowering mother could spend weeks at a time under the same roof and not wander into each other. And God forbid his parents should prearrange their meetings, which meant vicious arguments over his father’s peccadilloes, followed by months of separation—his mother off to parts unknown, the duke departing for Town.

Three pitifully confused boys left to their own devices. Hard to keep nannies that way. Boarding school at age eight had been a godsend, but that meant leaving his youngest brother to fend for himself. Edward hadn’t fared so well. Good God, the guilt. He’d have had none of it had he not turned a deaf ear time and time again.

Another vision of Suri washed through his mind—a wraithlike goddess in purple and turquoise silk. This deuced image had been coming at him repeatedly. Followed by a bloody ache in his chest. He doubted he’d ever seen a woman look more hauntingly beautiful. His jaw clenched at the memory of her going off to a royal wedding with that son of a bitch Maurya. Damn it, his only business with Suri was to remove her from danger, not to ponder her beauty. Maurya on the other hand…

Shahira tossed a nervous glance backward. “Easy, girl.”

He rounded the corner and tapped out the familiar signal on his gate to indicate his arrival. The turbaned guard opened the gate and closed it silently behind John, who only nodded. He didn’t feel much like conversation tonight.

The front door opened and he stepped inside, reached down and removed Shahira’s collar and chain. “Have a good prowl in the garden, girl.”

Shahira took off at a run.

And then she stopped, hunkered down, and spit out a warning.

John’s hand slid to the knife in his boot.

A net landed over the cat.

She screamed and hissed and clawed.

He heard a sickening crack, wood to bone at the base of his skull, and then his own grunt as a blast of hot pain exploded inside his head.

Damn. He hadn’t seen that coming.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

Oh God, what has he done with John?

Suri sat before Ravi-ji, trying her best to appear calm. She ignored the emerald and diamond collar lying atop his desk. Its golden chain glinted in the morning sun filtering through the slats of the shuttered balcony. While she managed to still her trembling fingers, there was little she could do about the perspiration trickling down her spine. Ignoring the ropes binding her wrists to the arms of the chair was impossible. Judging by the tingling in her hands, they were about to go numb from so tight a restraint.

Ravi-ji wanted her to comment on Shahira’s leash.

He wanted to terrify her.

She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how very close she was to falling over the edge of self-possession and into a sea of wild panic.

Her father’s words echoed in her head—
never lose your dignity to one who acts more powerful than you
.

A person could do most anything she sets her mind to
, he’d told her. Well, she’d set her sights on seeking out her grandmother and look where that got her—facing a madman. Next time she’d be more careful—if there was a next time.

Now she had to fix her wits on not allowing the horror fraying the edges of her composure to take hold, or she would give this man exactly what he was after.
What has he done with Shahira? Where is John?
Renewed anger hit her like a punch to the gut. The advantage of her fury was that it balanced the scales and kept her revulsion internal.

“You’re insane.” Her words sounded calm, matter of fact.

He leaned a hip against his desk, positioned in such a way that even with her focal point on him, her peripheral vision couldn’t help but catch sight of the leash behind him—the one thing in the room that screamed
Ravenswood
.

Ravi-ji had not said a word since he’d summoned her, only studied her with what she swore was a lustful glint in his eye.

His mask is off.

Emerald eyes glittered at her from beneath a froth of dark lashes. He lifted a brow. How was it she’d never seen that glimmer as anything but a reflection of subtle humor and a zest for living? But wait—in retrospect, she
had
grown a bit uncomfortable with him rather early on. It was her confounded determination to meet up with her grandmother that had colored her perspective.

Tanush.

Where was Tanush? He was her only hope. Him or Vámbéry. But while the guard was the one always within reach, Vámbéry remained at the periphery, his tasks apparently counterpoint to Tanush’s. Better to rely on Tanush to get her out of here and to locate John.

“What, no thought of your beloved?” Ravi-ji set down an intricately carved pen he’d been stroking with his neatly manicured fingers and folded his arms over his chest. Splendidly attired in a crisp white cotton kurta and matching pyjamas, the kurta elaborately trimmed in the intricate
zardosi
needlework unique to India, he hardly looked the part of a criminal. With his neatly clipped dark hair, intense eyes, and classic features, one could easily count him among the most handsome men in the land. Who would have guessed what menace lurked beneath his refined surface?

She would
not
ask about John. Nor about Shahira. If both were dead, she’d mourn later—likely, forever. A sharp pain lanced her heart at the thought. She studied her bound hands and veiled her telltale features from Ravi-ji.
I must survive!

Managing a modicum of control, she slowly raised her head. “I am curious,
cousin
. You were the first man to escort me onto the dance floor my first night in Delhi. And your sister…excuse me…your
half
-sister was waiting to serve me upon my arrival. If I’m an untouchable, how could the two of you have spent so much time with your hands on me?”

A curious shadow crossed his face at the mention of him touching her. Oh Lord, there was definitely hunger lurking. He shrugged and the odd look disappeared. “We will be ritually purified to restore us to our caste system once we are finished with you nabobs.”

Finished with
us
?

He’s got John.

Pain—white hot—shot through her heart. “Was it worth all the trouble you went to? Why not refuse to help me? Or why not end it all when I stepped off the ship in Calcutta?”

He laughed then. “To think after all the years you pined away for your mother’s family only to send you off to your Christian God without having touched any of this?” He swept his hand about the room that contained so many splendors, she’d not been able to take it all in. “How remiss of me that would have been.”

“Poppycock.”

His head jerked and his eyes glittered with threat. “I do not know that word but, by its inflection, you have mocked me. You had best be careful, cousin, lest I remove your tongue.”

A chill ran through Suri. Nonetheless, she remained steadfast. “I was raised in wealth, cousin. Surely even you should realize that gilding a few walls and statues would not impress me, nor would it be your impetus to waste your time bringing me all the way to India. You have a deeper reason for going to such lengths, and it has to do with something personal between you and our grandmother. I saw the look she gave you when she inspected me. You owe her something, don’t you?”

A shadow slid across his countenance.

“What is it, Ravi-ji? What did you do that requires proving my existence to her and then doing away with me on her behalf?”

A half-smile curled his lip. “If you must know, it’s not so much what I did as what I did not do that has me making amends.”

“Which is?”

“I failed to save a certain drowning uncle, which didn’t sit well with my grandmother.”

Just the way he said it told Suri he could have saved the man but purposely hadn’t. Whatever had led up to the uncle’s demise was something she’d never know—nor did she care to. A shudder ran through her.

He picked up the pen again, a finely carved piece of wood with a nib attached to one end, a small ruby embedded in the other. Stroking it with his fingers—ever so lightly—that smile of his snaked over his mouth. “When I received your letter and learned you were still alive, I knew bringing you here as proof and having you done away with, once and for all, was an excellent opportunity to redeem myself. Obviously, I have.”

Disgust swirled in the pit of Suri’s stomach and mixed with a dread that beat out its own rhythm. How had she ever thought his smile benevolent? “This is all a game to you, isn’t it?”

He regarded her for a long while through eyes that had been cold a moment ago, but now danced with merriment. “I do rather enjoy the game. Especially since another player has been added and the stakes rose higher than I had anticipated.”

“What stakes?”

“You took up with the Duke of Ravenswood.”

“You killed his brother.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, I believe you did.” She bent her head and allowed a corner of her mouth to rise. “Are you missing a knife with a jade handle, by any chance?”

Lifting his hip off the desk, he made his way around the ornate piece of furniture and pulled open a drawer. He set a knife on the table matching the one Suri had been exposed to in the marble room. “Do you mean like this?”

Do not react
. “Yes, that’s the one.”

“Well, aren’t I the fortunate one?” He bent behind the desk and lifted a small chest and set it atop his desk.

Suri swallowed her shock at recognizing the box as the one she’d seen in the marble room. She fought the urge to squirm in her seat.

Ravi-ji lifted out a spent cartridge and a Bible. She knew what would come next.

He lifted the curved knife from the container and set it next to its twin.

Despite the panic eating away at her composure, she managed to remain stoic and tried to appear bored.

He lifted a brow. “Aren’t you the calm one?”

“I must take after you.”

A muscle ticked at one corner of his eye. “Let’s see how calm you remain.” He picked up the collar and chain, and walked around the desk toward her.

Her heart jumped into her throat.
Don’t panic!

“Did you like the jewels I sent over?”

“They were beautiful, thank you.” She forced her eyes to remain on his—wouldn’t allow them to wander to Shahira’s collar and chain.

“Would you have guessed that all the jewels draped about your person belonged to your grandmother?”

This time it was she who laughed. “I’d wager you forgot to tell her you borrowed them. Do you think she noticed them on me last night?”

He regarded her for a long moment as though lost in hungry thought.

Gooseflesh studded Suri’s arms.

And then, just as suddenly, his eyes warmed again. He smiled. “You do have a way about you. It’s a shame I had to return Grandmother’s jewels this morning. I’ve left you looking rather bare, haven’t I?” He brought Shahira’s emerald and diamond collar to her throat. “Perhaps this will suffice?”

She jerked her head away. “You can’t be serious.”

“Ah, but this is a gift from your beloved. Certainly you wouldn’t dishonor him by refusing to wear his bequest?”

She craned her neck away from him and closed her eyes against her whirling senses.
Oh God, no.

His warm breath fell against her mouth. “If you don’t fight me, you’ll have a little reward.”

Was he about to attempt a kiss? Gathering her strength, she opened her eyes and bent her neck away from the collar. “I believe I’ll pass, thank you.”

“But I insist.” His words melted in the air like warm honey. He hovered so close his features blurred before her. When his lashes nearly tangled with hers, she gasped. He stepped back. Fury replaced passion in his countenance.

He shot a fierce glance to the guard behind her and turned his back, one fist clenched tightly against his side, the other digging into Shahira’s collar. She heard a shuffle of feet before rough hands gripped each side of her head and held it steady.

God help me!
“I’m afraid it simply won’t do,” she said. “Too large for my neck.”

“Ah, but then you’ll not have to concern yourself with it chafing your lovely throat, will you?” Ravi-ji wheeled around and fastened the collar about her neck. The thing hung just below the vee at her neck. “Perfect.”

She lifted her chin and stared at him in defiance. She would
not
give him the satisfaction of knowing how horribly he demeaned her.

He addressed the guard. “Take her to her new quarters and give her the reward I promised.”

The guard untied the narrow ropes binding Suri’s wrists to the chair, forced her to her feet, and then tied her wrists behind her back. He took up the chain and with a hard tug, led her from the room like a leashed animal.

Trailing behind the guard, Suri stumbled down one long corridor after another—up one flight of stairs and down again. What was she to do? The collar was large enough—perhaps she could manage to cast it over her head if she got the chance to run.

She fought the hot tears that gathered behind her lids. How could she get out of here? Even if she did manage to escape, she had no idea where she was.

Two guards stood beside a set of double doors fitted with a wooden barricade caught through the handles. Here was her destination? Without glancing her way, one guard sidestepped to the middle of the entrance and slid the wooden pole from them. He swung open the door.

Her captor gave the chain a hard yank.

She stumbled into the room and froze like a frightened rabbit. “John!”

One eye swollen and bruised, his clothing and hair in disarray, he lay on a mattress strewn with silk pillows—his miserable appearance a stark contrast to the opulence in the room. Blood smeared his waistcoat and a shirt once white as snow. One leg hung over the mattress as though he’d not enough strength to lift it the few inches to join his other.