“Just go.” To Max’s mind, the American was getting more than he deserved. He turned to Montague. “Can you contact Liverpool? Ask him to have this cleaned up by the time the club opens tomorrow?”
The duke nodded. “He won’t be happy we’ve come away without any witnesses again. But a little tidying up is the least he owes us.”
The men separated. Max pulled Colleen up to her rooms and found an empty valise. “Pack what you think you’ll need for the next couple of weeks.”
Silently, she moved among her wardrobes, placing a couple of pairs of new boots in the bottom of the kit.
Max frowned. “What? No argument?”
Colleen pressed her lips together. “As has just been proven, this building is easily accessible to men who want to cut my throat and …” She balled up a gown and tossed it in the valise.
Grasping her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “And what?”
She shrugged. “The man made it quite clear he wanted something more before he killed me. I think my fear excited him.” She patted Max’s chest. “I am quite happy to go stay in your house until this is resolved.”
Folding his arms around her, he pulled her close. He buried his nose in her hair and just enjoyed being surrounded by her. Her arms, her scent, her strength.
Somewhere during that embrace, he knew. Having her in his home for the next couple of weeks wouldn’t be enough. He would need her forever.
Chapter Fourteen
Colleen turned a corner and stepped around the man posted at the end of the hallway. She snapped the gardening book that she’d found in Max’s library shut and made an about-face, hoping to find some solitude.
She bumped into the man trailing behind her.
“Gentlemen.” She huffed. “I know the baron has engaged you to watch over me, but this is a little much. Wouldn’t your time be better spent securing the entrances to his house rather than following me about?”
The man standing in the hallway stared forwards. “Apologies, madam. The baron was explicit in his orders. We’re not to let you out of our sight.”
Yes, she’d been made aware of that when one of his men had followed her into the necessary. To the man’s credit, his face had flamed red when he’d realized his mistake, and he’d darted back. Colleen had still slammed the door on his blush.
After making love to every inch of her body the night before, Max had disappeared, leaving her under the watchful eyes of his servants and the men he’d hired to guard her. She appreciated that he wanted to keep her safe. The reality, however, of having strangers peering after her like she was a monkey in a menagerie, was less than enjoyable.
“All I want is to read in the sitting room. Alone.” She wasn’t the fastest reader, and the book she’d chosen was chock-full of long Latin names. Numbers were more her strength. She didn’t need some hired ruffian peering over her shoulder, watching her fumble her way through the tome. “Can that be arranged?”
The men looked at each other and shifted their weight.
Colleen drew her shoulder blades towards her spine. “I see. Then please call a carriage for me. I will be going to the club. That is still allowed, isn’t it?”
The one man dipped his head. “Yes, madam. As long as we accompany you.”
After what had happened in The Black Rose the night before, the supervision there was welcome. In Max’s home she felt safe. She’d lost that feeling in the club. But work didn’t stop because she was beset with dread.
Without a word to her shadows, she returned to the room Max had given her – one with a door connecting to his own chamber. She collected her spencer and a reticule. The book wouldn’t fit inside her bag, so she tucked it under her arm. She hoped to read in her office, free from scrutiny.
Her guard stood by the bureau, silent, his gaze darting to the connecting door to the master bedroom. Colleen refused to feel embarrassed. A month ago she would have been mortified by an affair of hers becoming public knowledge. But she was an independent woman, and Max wasn’t a man a woman should be ashamed of.
Chin high, she strode from the room and down the central staircase to the foyer. A footman opened the front door, and another guard melted from the wall. With a man five steps in front of her and one five steps behind, Colleen paraded to the carriage and climbed inside. One man followed her in, the other joining the driver up top.
She had to admit she was becoming accustomed to the service granted to the guest of a baron. It would be disappointing to return to opening her own doors.
Her heart twisted and flipped behind her breastbone. Losing those minor services would be nothing compared to losing Max. The feel of his mouth, the beat of his heart beneath her cheek as she fell asleep, his warm laugh buoying her spirits. Those were the things she would miss. That was what would be hard to live without.
The carriage pulled to a stop and the door opened. The slanting afternoon sun caught the second-story windows of the club, the glare causing her to blink. Cheery petunias lined planter boxes below the first-floor windows, and Colleen smiled as she always did when she saw them. Who would guess what went on within the building when such an innocent flower graced its walls?
Climbing the steps with her entourage, she entered The Black Rose. The muscles in her back clenched tighter the deeper she went into what had become her home. A home that had been teeming with men trying to kill her and Max’s friends.
Wanting to see the worst and get it out of the way, she headed for the kitchen. She jolted to a stop in the doorway.
