His dark eyes narrowing, Lasseter studied her from beneath heavy black lashes. “Naturally you would wish redress for your grievances. But I’m a gamester. I’d lay odds you would prefer to find a way out of this debacle.”
“Of course I would. But there is no possible way to hush up a scandal of this nature.”
“You could go abroad till the tempest dies down. I am a wealthy man. I would be willing to fund an extended stay.”
Her own smile held scorn. “No amount of wealth or time will salvage my reputation.”
He hesitated. “There is always marriage.”
Raven stared. “Are you mad?”
“It isn’t mad at all. Under the circumstances, it may be your only option.”
“And just whom do you propose I marry? What gentleman would be willing to have me now that…” Furiously she quelled tears that suddenly threatened. “Now that I am damaged goods.”
His expression remained enigmatic. “I imagine some acceptable candidates could be found for a woman of your…advantages. Perhaps no one with the title and fortune your duke possessed, but-”
“No, a title is doubtless beyond my reach now,” she said bitterly.
Hearing the humiliating tremble in her voice, Raven shook herself, refusing to cry. Instead she rose to her feet, pointing her pistol directly at her nemesis. “I should like to go home now, sir.”
Kell Lasseter’s eyes suddenly hardened, probing her with an even stare. “I am not a man who likes to be threatened, Miss Kendrick.”
“I frankly don’t give a fig for what you like. You will do as I say and allow me to leave.”
He gave a devilish laugh, blithely ignoring her wrath. “Or what? You will shoot me?”
“Yes, exactly. You will have Emma bring me a gown and then you will provide me with a closed carriage to deliver me home.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I am not bluffing, Mr. Lasseter. And I am reckoned a good shot.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his very stance challenging. “You intend to shoot me in cold blood? Somehow I doubt it.”
His supreme arrogance spurred her temper, already seething beyond caution. She couldn’t remember ever being this angry.
“Go ahead then,” he ordered, his own tone mocking. “Do your worst.”
Seeing that smirk on his sensual mouth was the culmination of all the past hours of fear and frustration and despair; Raven’s wrath boiled over.
Consigning him to perdition, she took careful aim and squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Five
The explosion was deafening. With a startled grunt of pain, Lasseter doubled over to clench his left thigh. Almost at once a crimson streak spread beneath his fingers to stain his buff-colored breeches.
Aghast, Raven pressed a hand over her mouth, scarcely believing that she had actually shot him. Her gaze flew to his, only to find him skewering her with a menacing stare. With his beautiful, scarred face and coal black eyes, he looked supremely dangerous.
When he moved toward her, she took a defensive step backward. His scar stood out in a livid white line, and for a moment, all she could see was that and the promise of vengeance in his eyes. Yet instead of coming after her, he stumbled over to the bed, where he sat back against the headboard, grimacing in pain.
Blood was already soaking into the tangled sheets, Raven saw with horror as he grabbed a handful of linen to press against the wound.
“Are you badly hurt?” she murmured weakly.
Lasseter shot her a searing look. She had to school herself not to flinch from the smoldering intensity of his eyes.
Wanting to be of help, Raven started toward him, but his eyes flashed a warning and narrowed on the pistol in her hand. “For God’s sake, put that damned thing down before you do any more damage.”
Just then the door flew open and Emma Walsh stood there, a look of alarm on her beautiful features. “What happened?” she demanded, her gaze flying between Raven and the wounded man on the bed. “I heard a gunshot.”
“Miss Kendrick has come to no harm,” Lasseter bit out, “if that’s what concerns you. Although she has mortally wounded me.”
“Merciful heavens,” Emma breathed, taking a step toward the bed.
Abruptly he held up a hand to forestall her. “I’ll be all right. Just fetch some bandages.”
When the hostess had hurried away, Raven spoke in a contrite tone. “Did you mean it? Are you really all right?”
“No, devil take it!” he retorted. “I am certain to be crippled for life.”
Remorse filling her, Raven set the pistol down on the table and moved to the bedside. “Let me see.”
When he growled a protest and made to rise, she pressed him back down with her palm, finding his chest firmly muscled beneath the crispness of his shirt. Keenly aware of his masculinity, she bent over him and pushed his hand away from his leg so she could inspect the injury. She uncovered a gash perhaps an inch long on the side of his thigh.
“It doesn’t look too deep… Certainly not a mortal wound as you claimed.”
“I am devastated to disappoint you.”
His reply was rough with pain and edged with hostility.
“There is no call for you to be so nasty, Mr. Lasseter. I am sorry I hurt you-”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
Her cheeks flushed with hot anger. “I think I was entirely justified in shooting you.”
“That is purely a matter of opinion. You could have deprived me of my manhood, if not put a period to my existence.”
“It is only a flesh wound,” Raven said defensively. “I could have injured you far worse had I wished to.”
“Regrettably you will have to be satisfied with my bleeding to death.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. “You are trying to make me feel guilty, aren’t you?”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
He raised a sardonic smile to her glare, which only increased her vexation. When her fingers curled reflexively on his thigh, he flinched and grasped her hand to hold it away.
Raven abruptly went still. A shimmering awareness of danger of another kind filled the air as she met his glittering gaze.
Kell felt the same danger and cursed silently. His wound was far from lethal but painful enough to aggravate the devil out of him, so how could he possibly be feeling aroused at her mere touch? But there was no question his cock was swelling into an unmistakable erection. His only excuse was that he’d just spent a long, excruciating night of unsated hunger with this blue-eyed spitfire…
Gritting his teeth, he damned her for causing him such pain, equally damning himself for wanting her so much. Intent on driving her away, Kell deliberately reached up and pulled his shirttail from his breeches. To his satisfaction, Raven Kendrick gave a start and jumped back.
“What are you doing?”
“Removing my breeches so I can see to my wound.” He sent her a challenging glance. “Don’t worry, Miss Kendrick. I don’t intend to assault you. I prefer my women warm and willing.”
Her chin lifted. “Will you please stop calling me Miss Kendrick in that odious tone?”
“What would you have me call you? Vixen? She-devil?”
When she merely looked daggers at him, he grinned tauntingly. “If you don’t want your sensibilities offended, you had best turn your back. But first bring me that basin and pitcher of water.”
With unaccustomed meekness, Raven did as she was bid, carrying the basin to the nightstand beside the bed, then fetching the pitcher and a towel. When Lasseter gave her a hard look, she scurried across the room to stand before the hearth, keeping her back to him.
She heard a rustle of clothing, then heard him swear as evidently he peeled the fabric of his breeches and drawers away from the wound.