The Raven Prince (Princes #1)(71)



“I won’t marry you,” she repeated.

“Why not? You were eager enough to f*ck me.”

Anna winced. “I do wish you would stop using that word.”

Edward swung around and assumed a hideously sarcastic expression. “Would you prefer swive? Tup? Dance the buttock jig?”

She compressed her lips. Thank goodness Mother Wren and Fanny had gone shopping this morning. Edward was making no effort to lower his voice.

“You don’t want to marry me.” Anna spoke slowly and enunciated each word as if talking to a hard-of-hearing village idiot.

“Whether I want to marry you or not isn’t the issue, as you well know,” Edward said. “The fact is, I must marry you.”

“Why?” She blew out a breath. “There is no possibility of a child. As you have made abundantly clear, you know I am barren.”

“I have compromised you.”

“I’m the one who went to Aphrodite’s Grotto in disguise. It seems to me that I compromised you.” Anna thought it commendable that she did not wave her arms in the air in exasperation.

“That’s ridiculous!” Edward’s bellow could probably be heard back at the Abbey.

Why did men think that saying something louder made it true? “No more ridiculous than an earl who is already engaged proposing marriage to his secretary!” Her own voice was raised now.

“I’m not proposing. I’m telling you we must marry.”

“No.” Anna crossed her arms.

Edward stalked across the room toward her, each step deliberate and meant to be intimidating. He didn’t stop until his chest was inches from her face. She craned her neck to meet his gaze; she refused to back away from him.

He leaned down until his breath brushed across her forehead intimately. “You will marry me.”

He smelled of coffee. Anna dropped her eyes to his mouth. Even in anger, it was disgustingly sensual. She retreated a step and turned her back. “I am not going to marry you.”

Anna could hear him breathing heavily behind her. She peeked over her shoulder.

Edward was looking thoughtfully at her bottom.

His eyes snapped up. “You will marry me.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “But I’ll quit the discussion of when for now. In the meantime, I still need a secretary. I want you at the Abbey this afternoon.”

“I hardly think”—Anna had to stop to steady her voice—“I hardly think in light of our past relationship that I should continue as your secretary.”

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Correct me if I am wrong, Mrs. Wren, but weren’t you the one who initiated that relationship? Therefore—”

“I said I was sorry!”

He ignored her outburst. “Therefore, I fail to see why I should be the one to suffer the loss of a secretary merely because of your discomfort, if that is the problem.”

“Yes, that’s the problem!” Discomfort didn’t begin to describe the agony it would be to try and carry on as before. Anna took a fortifying breath. “I can’t return.”

“Well, then,” Edward said softly, “I fear I’ll be unable to pay you your wages to date.”

“That’s…” Anna lost her power of speech in sheer horror.

The Wren household had been counting on the money that would be paid at the end of the month. So much so that they’d already accrued several small debts at the local shops. It would be bad enough, not having a job. If she couldn’t have the wages she’d already earned as Edward’s secretary, the results would be disastrous.

“Yes?” Edward inquired.

“That’s unfair!” Anna burst out.

“Now, dear heart, whatever gave you the idea that I played fair?” He smiled silkily.

“You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can. I keep telling you that I’m an earl, but it hasn’t seemed to have sunk in yet.” Edward propped a fist beneath his chin. “Of course, if you come back to work, your wages will be paid in full.”

Anna closed her mouth and breathed rather forcefully through her nostrils for a bit.

“Fine. I’ll come back. But I want to be paid at the end of the week,” she said. “Every week.”

He laughed. “You are so untrusting.”

He lunged forward and, catching her hand, kissed the back of it. Then he turned her hand over and quickly pressed his tongue into her palm. For a second, she felt the soft, wet warmth and her intimate muscles clenched. He let go and was out the door before she could protest.

At least, she was fairly certain she would have protested.

OBSTINATE, OBSTINATE WOMAN. Edward swung himself into the bay’s saddle. Any other female in Little Battleford would’ve sold their grandmother to marry him. Hell, most of the women in England would sell their entire family, the family retainers, and the family pets to become his bride.

Edward snorted.

He wasn’t egotistical. It had nothing to do with him personally. It was the title he bore that had such a high market value. Well, that and the money that came with the title. But not for Anna Wren, impoverished widow of no social standing. Oh, no. For her and her only, he was good enough to bed, but not wed. What did she think he was? A cock for hire?

Edward tightened the reins as the bay shied at a blowing leaf. Well, that same sensuality that had led her to meet him in a brothel was going to be her downfall. He’d caught her staring at his mouth in midargument, and it had dawned on him: Why not use her sexuality for his own purposes? What matter why she had decided to seduce him—whether because of his scars or no—the more important point was that she had. She liked his mouth, did she? She would see it all day, every day, as his secretary. And he would be sure to remind her what other things she was missing until she consented to be his bride.

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