“Yes,” she gritted out through clenched teeth. “I’m perfectly fine.” But when she tried to stand she accidentally put weight on her injured hand and fell back.
“You’re hurt. Let me help you.”
“I’m—”
He scooped her up into his arms thinking he would walk to the nearest shop and take a look at her injury. That was the original intention behind sweeping her off of her feet. But now…as he stared into her ocean-meets-sky blue eyes, his feet betrayed him. They didn’t move. Wouldn’t move. Couldn’t move.
And she stared right back.
That made the whole damn thing of walking a whole lot of impossible. Damn his feet. But his hands. Oh, those were another story. They were happily wrapped around a soft and supple body. One he ached to see more of. One he ached to know. How very odd to have such depth of feeling, the likes of which he always assumed he would tamp down. Instead, his fingers tightened their grip around her hips, and her lips parted to make a small o.
If that didn’t make his dick stiffen.
Damn all the parts of his body that were going rogue, including his resolve. She was a beautiful woman. There was no doubt about that. And intelligent. Determined. Built with courage. But something about her and those eyes looking deep into his soul…it unnerved him.
“I—”
He needed to say something. Anything. But that’s as far as he got.
Chapter 4
“You should put me down. I need to get back to Greene House to—” she looked down at her wrist, not wanting to admit the pain she was in “—eat dinner.”
He cleared his throat, and the deepening pressure of his hand on her back was almost jarring with how protective it felt. “I’ll take you.”
He wasn’t a protector. He was a ruiner. It was all the smoke in the air. She’d probably inhaled too much and now couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t focus on the reality in front of her. Sure, he saved the jewelry shop. And sure, he appreciated her intelligence and didn’t take all the credit of dousing the sail for himself. But deep down she knew a damaged—and damaging—soul resided in him. No one treated a lady how he had.
“I’m fine. I can walk.” He didn’t move to let her down. “I really think you should put me down, Duke.” It was the second timeshe could have used his name, not wanting to pay proper respect to his title. But there was something too intimate about calling him Damien.Dukewould do.
“Who are you? You haven’t told me your name.”
She huffed. And squeezed her eyes shut. There was most definitely a fog in her brain, for she couldn’t bring herself to ignore his request.
“Lucinda.”
“Lucinda,” he repeated, pulling her in tighter to his body. His warm, strong body. A body that she simply wouldn’t mind to have carrying her all the way back to Greene House. After an emotionally draining morning, she was almost willing to forgo her independence and rest in his strength. Almost.
But not.
“Put me down. I must insist.”
And her insistence was respected, languidly, but respected all the same. As her body slid down his, she began to second guess such insisting. And when her feet found the ground, toes first then heels, her body begged her for relief. That is, it needed to rest. But, be that as it may, she pulled back. Hands on his chest, she looked him in the eye to tell him she intended to go home. But instead of those words coming out, altogether different words were released.
Though, they were more like sounds than words.
“Ooooh.” Her forehead crashed against his chest as her grip fell loose. She did not just swoon. No. That was impossible. She was not a swooner. Especially in the presence of ravishingly rakish men. Especially not when she needed most to exert her independence.
“You’re ill.” His hands were on her waist, steadying her. And she couldn’t stop herself from thinking how nice it felt to have someone to rely upon. That she wasn’t all alone in this world. That there was someone who might possibly care for her.Takecareof her. That there were touches from a man that could be tender, caring, compassionate. Safe. The thought overwhelmed her. And the feeling of safety overtook her. It made no sense, but then the heart rarely did.
“I might just need you,” she whispered into his chest. The words were painful to admit, but once they were out, it was like a crazy banshee had been released from her body. Like…there was some newfound peace within her. Like the tormentor had been something she allowed into her own life and had had the power all along to relinquish. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?
“I’m here for you, Lucinda.”
Taking a peek at the ground before glancing up into what she knew would be concerned eyes, she said, “Can you escort me back to Greene House?”
“Of course.” One hand moved to her back, while the other was offered at her elbow. “Just tell me where it is.”
“Just up the road. It’s the one painted yellow.”
