His response was to close the distance between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that left her breathless. When they finally parted, her head was spinning, her body alive with sensation.
"Does that answer your question, my love?" James murmured, his voice husky with desire.
She could only nod, her heart pounding a wild rhythm in her chest. As she gazed into his eyes, she saw not just passion, but a depth of emotion that both thrilled and terrified her. For the first time since Nile's death, she allowed herself to imagine a future filled with love and laughter.
As she snuggled against him, she fought the heavy pull of sleep, not wanting to miss a moment of this newfound intimacy. But eventually, lulled by the steady beat of James's heart and the warmth of his embrace, she succumbed to slumber.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before allowing his own eyes to close, joining her in peaceful repose.
A sharp click pierced the air, startling them awake. Selina’s eyes flew open, heart leaping into her throat as she found herself staring down the barrel of a pistol.
"How touching." Lord Hawthorne's smooth voice dripped with sarcasm. "I do hope I am not interrupting."
Nine
James’s eyes snapped open to a sight that chilled him to his very core. There, silhouetted against the pale light from the dying fire, stood Hawthorne, a pistol gleaming ominously in his grasp, and pointed directly at him and Selina.
"My, my," Lord Hawthorne drawled, his lips curling into a sinister smirk. "The disgraced Lord Blackwood and the grieving widow, entangled in the sheets. How delightfully scandalous."
James felt Selina press against him, her body trembling. He instinctively tightened his hold on her, his mind racing as he surveyed the room for any advantage. The fireplace poker stood tantalizingly close, but Hawthorne's unwavering aim made any sudden movements too risky.
"Hawthorne," James said, his voice steady despite the hammering of his heart. "To what do we owe this... unexpected pleasure?"
Hawthorne's eyes glittered with malice. "Oh, I think you know exactly why I am here. You and your clever little widow have been quite the nuisance, have you not?"
James felt a tremor run through Selina. He longed to reassure her, to promise her they would find a way out of this predicament, but the words stuck in his throat.
"It was you," Selina seethed, her voice laced with anger. "You killed Nile."
Hawthorne's laugh was cold and mirthless. "Bravo, Lady Hollyfield. I must say, you are sharper than I gave you credit for. Yes, I orchestrated your dear husband's unfortunate... accident. The fool thought he could expose my dealings, threaten my position in society, leave me destitute. I could not allow that, now could I?"
James had suspected Hawthorne's involvement, knew it to be true after their run-in with the ruffians, but to hear it confirmed so callously sent a surge of rage through him. The odious man had caused Selina such pain and done his best to frame James for his nefarious deeds.
"And now," Hawthorne continued, his tone almost conversational, "I am afraid I must tie up these loose ends. Can't have you two running about, spreading nasty rumors. It would be most inconvenient."
At that moment, James saw a flicker of movement from Selina. Before he could react, she had sprung to her feet, clutching the sheet around her body like a makeshift toga.
"You will not get away with this," Selina snarled, her eyes blazing with a determination that took James's breath away. "We will see you hanged for what you have done."
James tensed, ready to jump into action at the slightest opportunity. He admired Selina's bravery, but fear for her safety gripped his heart. Hawthorne was unpredictable, and the double chamber pistol in his hand could end their lives in an instant.
"My dear Lady Hollyfield," Hawthorne said, his voice dripping with condescension, "I am afraid you will not be seeing much of anything after tonight. Such a pity. You really are quite an exquisite woman. I meant to take you to wife, but you have forced my hand."
“I would never marry you,” she said, taking a step forward. “You are despicable,” she seethed.
James's fingers itched to reach for the poker, to do something, anything, to protect Selina. But Hawthorne had the pistol trained on her heart. He could not chance a sudden movement that might cause the man to shoot.
"You are a monster," Selina spat, her knuckles white as she gripped the sheet tighter.
Hawthorne's smile widened. "Perhaps. But I am a monster who will walk away from this night unscathed, while you and your lover meet a most unfortunate end. How tragic. The papers will be abuzz with the scandal."
James's mind raced, searching for a way out of this. He knew that their lives hung by a thread, balanced on the whim of a madman. But as he looked at Selina, saw the fire in her eyes and the set of her jaw, he felt a surge of hope. They had come too far, overcome too much, to let it end like this.
His muscles tensed, every fiber of his being coiled and ready to spring. As Hawthorne's gaze lingered on Selina, savoring his perceived triumph, James seized the moment. With a burst of explosive energy, he launched himself at Hawthorne, his body colliding with the murderous lord's.
"Selina, duck!" James roared as they crashed to the floor.
The pistol discharged with a deafening crack, the bullet embedding itself in the ceiling. James grappled with Hawthorne, his hands desperately seeking purchase on the weapon. Hawthorne's face contorted with rage, his earlier smugness replaced by animalistic fury.
