Page 58 of Almost A Scoundrel

This might be her only chance to escape this man. If he believed her cooperative, and she took a sip, his hold on her might relax, and she could slip away.

Phaedra scowled and snatched the glass from his hand. With an unladylike mutter—a curse, really—she took a sip and damned the man to the bowels of the earth. But as she would have pulled the glass away from her mouth, the ruffian’s hand applied pressure to the bottom and held the goblet firm. The contents rushed down her throat.

Phaedra sputtered and fought to swallow the liquid before it spilled all over her.

The scoundrel!

The rogue!

“You big beast!”

He laughed.

“There,” she shoved the glass back into his hand. “I took a sip,morethan a sip, now let me go.”

He nodded. “First, tell me how it tasted.”

“It tasted like wine,” she snapped.

“I mean, what flavors did you detect?”

“I–” she was about to lay into him but paused. It seemed to only taste of wine, but the gleam in his eyes sent a chill down her spine. Was this not the usual sort of wine? It tasted the same as one might find at a normal ball. Perhaps a touch stronger. But just a touch.

“Itiswine, is it not?”

“Of course.”

Why did those two words sound so ominous?

“Then why are you asking me about flavors?”

He leaned in close. “It’s my own brew.”

His own brew? Why did that sound even more sinister?

Instinct screamed at her to escape this man.

Something about him, the wine, the entire incident seemed off. An odd sensation overcame her, so unexpected and foreign that Phaedra almost lost her train of thought.

“What’s wrong?”

“I... I’m not sure...” It was as though the entire world narrowed until she was the only one left.

This was not right.

Hewas not right.

Deerhurst. She needed to find Deerhurst.

Run!

Kick him and run!

She started to do exactly that, and club him over the head for good measure, but her limbs refused to obey her instructions. She blinked, and everything around her slowed to a crawl. All at once, the fast rush and boisterous laughter of the ballroom cut to a whisper. And in the wake of her panic a glow of euphoria settled.

Phaedra stared into the knowing eyes of the beast that held her captive in some corner of the dance floor. He was a bad, bad man. She had never met such a bad man.

A giggle erupted from her throat.