Page 34 of The Rake Desires the Diamond

Needing to get on with his visit, Evan stepped into Greyson’s space and met his haughty gaze. “We need to talk.”

“Indeed,” Greyson said, his affected sigh needling Evan’s last nerve. “I suppose we can talk in the library.” He motioned for Evan to follow him.

Just as Greyson reached for the door, it flew open, and a young woman in a black dress, arms wrapped around her torso, flew past them. Chuckling, Greyson eyed her lecherously.

“Miss, are you well?” Evan called to her.

She halted and slowly faced him. Quivering, she swiped at tears. “I am fine, sir.” Before Evan could offer assistance, she dashed away.

The agitated woman was far from fine. And somehow, Evan knew that she had fallen victim to Greyson’s perversions.

“Damn nervous chit.” Greyson pushed on the door. “Always boohooing about something.”

The crying woman was probably Caroline, the maid. Greyson was a shite-fuck.

“Tell me, what in God’s name has you banging on Taylor’s door in the middle of the night demanding to see me?” Greyson asked as he strode into the library.

Since the unfortunate woman had fled, slamming a door behind her, Evan followed Greyson and took the seat across from him. In the shadowy room, lit only by a few candles, the pale man could have been mistaken for a ghostly corpse.

“We need to discuss something man to man.”

Referring to Greyson as amanwas stretching it. He was more putrid than termite dung. But slinging insults would not garner the results Evan needed.

“I suppose this urgent discussion involves Lady Katrina,” Greyson said in his nasally affected drawl.

How was Evan to keep his temper in check with this reprehensible beast?

He sat forward and met Greyson’s gaze. “Leave her alone. Your attempts to court her are pointless. Her brothers will not allow it. The Duke of Astleyshire would ride into town and cut off your bollocks if you came within a foot of her. And Ethan Harrington’s fist—believe me when I say it is lethal—will knock that smug smirk off your face.

Greyson’s chuckle morphed into a full-body guffaw.

No need to wait for Harrington to knock the marquess’s teeth down his throat. Evan would do it here and now.

Greyson stopped laughing to snort. “I will take my chances, Eaton. The real question is, what do you think William and Ethan will do to you when they find out you defiled their sister?”

He’d hardly defiled her. Still, he might find himself ball-less and toothless, but at least Katrina would be safe. Safe from Greyson. And safe from Evan, rake that he was. Married to a good man. A good earl who would not, and could not, love her. But that hardly mattered. Katrina Harrington would be safe.

“I want nothing more than one evening of Lady Katrina’s time. That is all I am asking to keep your indiscretion a secret,” Greyson declared.

Evan winced the second his newest revelation hit him. Now that he wanted to protect Katrina, Greyson had the power to blackmail him. “What is to keep you from demanding more than one evening from her?”

Greyson swirled his drink and sighed. “I’m a man of my word.”

Shite! Rubbish! Balderdash! Evan should wipe that arrogant smile off the liar’s face.

“Why are you so intent on spending time with a woman who despises you?” Evan asked.

“I hear she also despises you, and yet…” Greyson shrugged. “I simply want the same thing from Lady Katrina that you have already had.” He smirked as he leaned close to Evan and whispered, “I’d like to shove my prick in her sweet cunny.”

But Evan’s prick had not been anywhere near her cunny. At least not his naked prick.

Evan leaped from his seat and stalked toward Greyson. “Say that again, and I will knock your bloody teeth down your fucking throat.”

Greysontsked. “Temper, temper, mate. “

“I am not your bloody mate,” Evan said through clenched teeth.

“Who would have guessed that the Romeo of Trent village, after all of his conquests, would come to a woman’s rescue?”