When was the last time the promise of a mere kiss had wrought such agony? He couldn’t recall. Nor could he recall ever wanting a woman as badly as he wanted her.
But that wild, uncontrollable yearning wasn’t the reason he was presently looming in the shadows at this ungodly hour, watching the hall through which his delectable ward would have to pass.
No, indeed. It was because he didn’t believe her when she promised she wouldn’t slip to the mews and steal his horse for another dangerous jaunt. Just as he hadn’t believed her when she’d said she was entirely unaffected by being in his arms. Utter rot, and they both knew it. Just as he knew she would soon come slipping through the hall like a lovely wraith, intent upon breaking her word.
Likely to spite him for the books. But what had the minx expected? He was charged with her welfare, which meant he could not allow her to go traipsing about in the early-morning hours, unchaperoned, putting herself at grave risk of footpads or worse.
Christ, he still had the lump on his head to prove London was a damned dangerous place.
No, he intended to catch her before she could do any more damage to her reputation or her person. His valet had not even shown a hint of surprise when he had requested the early call to wake. Old Soames was a consummate professional.
Something in the air changed then. He could feel it, a palpable difference that alerted Trevor not just of a presence, but ofherpresence. A subtle creak of the hall floor, followed by the hush of petticoats and skirts. And then the light floral scent of her. She was nothing more than a wisp passing by him, ethereal and haunting as she moved with the tentative care of someone unaccustomed to the darkness.
His eyes had ample opportunity to adjust. Trevor parted the heavy brocade curtains and stepped from the alcove. He moved with the silent stealth wrought by his days with the Guild. This time, it was not a violent traitor to the Crown he stole behind, however.
And thank God for that, he thought grimly as he caught her waist in one arm and hauled her back against him in the same moment that he clapped a hand over her mouth, silencing her scream of alarm. There were some elements of his days as a spy he decidedly did not miss.
“Mmmfff,” she cried out into his palm, the sound suitably muffled.
Trevor lowered his head, his lips unintentionally grazing the shell of her ear. “Quiet.”
She stilled for a moment, and then she commenced a fight, struggling with him as she attempted to wrest free of his hold. For what purpose, he didn’t know. But he wasn’t about to take the chance of her escaping and running off to the mews to gallop away with Hera.
“Stop fighting,” he commanded her. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
She said something else, but he couldn’t make it out. And then she licked his palm, the cunning wretch.
White-hot flame shot through him. It shouldn’t have been erotic, the touch of her tongue to his palm, for it was the act of a petulant child. And yet, his stupid prick twitched to attention.
No, not now. Not with her. He truly needed to take himself in hand. Close his eyes and pretend it was Virtue.
“Don’t lick me again,” he gritted.
“Mmmrrr,” she said, sounding like nothing so much as an angry cat.
And then she did precisely what he had told her not to do. Of course she did, the brazen baggage. Her tongue darted over his palm, wet and hot and sleek, followed by her teeth as she caught the fleshy heel of his palm and bit.
Yes, she was just like a feline. An untamed one.
“Bloody hell,” he growled, withdrawing his hand and giving it a shake. “What the devil did you bite me for?”
She escaped his hold and whirled about, a whisper of muslin and feminine outrage that stirred up the scent of flowers he still had yet to identify. “I couldn’t breathe. Why did you attack me like a cutpurse?”
“I assure you, madam, that no cutpurse would be so gentle.” If there had been light, he would have gestured to the proof on his head. In the darkness, it hardly mattered, and anyway, his hand still smarted from her sharp nip. “You knew damned well it was me, and yet you bit me like a wild animal.”
“If you treat me like a wild animal, I have no recourse other than to act as one,” she returned, her tone unapologetic.
Enough.Trevor wasn’t going to stand here in the darkness at dawn, arguing with his devil’s-spawn ward without being able to see her.
“And if you insist upon being a wayward, spoiled child, then I have no choice but to punish you like one.” He took her arm with his uninjured hand in a light but firm hold. “Come with me.”
He didn’t wait for her response, but began pulling her in the direction of his chamber. His own rooms would have to suffice for privacy and, he hoped, illumination. He wasn’t about to stumble about in the darkness down the stairs.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded far too loudly for his liking.
He had no wish to send the few servants who had already awakened running after them.
“Hush,” he instructed. “A familiar-enough place.”
