The man scoffed, though his grip loosened slightly. “This has nothing to do with you, Your Grace. She broke the rules. She—”
“That was not a request,” Adrian interrupted sharply. He moved then, placing himself squarely between them as Bridget was freed, one hand settling firmly at the small of her back. The authority in his voice left no room for argument.
“My lady,” Adrian’s deep voice rumbled. “I believe that it is for the best that you allow me escort you back downstairs.”
Feeling tears of embarrassment begin to prick at her eyes, Bridget felt the rest of her fighting spirit leave her. She pulled the edges of the cloak closer around her and then walked back down the hall. He followed at a respectful distance until they reached the bottom of the stairs.
As they stepped back into the main floor of the gaming hell, she first spotted Tibault, who was holding a bloody rag to his nose and was now sporting a black eye. The manager glared at her and barked at the guard to take them outside.
Adrian pushed aside two of the men who approached them, keeping them at a distance from Bridget.
“I will take her,” he snapped at the men. “None of you dare touch her.”
“As you say, Your Grace. As long as you follow Tibault’s orders and leave the premises.”
“I would not want to stay in this establishment a moment longer,” Bridget answered before Adrian could. “It is clear my husband is not here.”
Adrian took hold of her arm, and in her defeated state, she did not shove him away.
“What happened to Tibault?” she could not help but ask as the bruised manager continued to glare at them as they walked through the den of filth.
“I did,” Adrian gritted out, keeping his blistering gaze forward.
Bridget looked at him with questioning eyes.Why would he do such a thing?
As if he heard her thoughts, Adrian looked down at her, his gaze still hard as he said, “He lunged for you after you kicked him. I did not like that.”
Bridget’s mouth dropped open as she realized what Adrian had done to protect her.No onehad ever lifted a finger to come to her defense, yet this man, who was practically a stranger, had done so twice in a day.
Bridget snapped her mouth shut when she caught the sound of men sniggering at her, and hurried along Adrian’s side so they could leave the wretched place sooner.
When they made it outside, she thought Adrian was taking her to the carriage, but once they reached the street, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty alley. She gasped as her back met the brick wall, the impact jarring enough to steal her breath just as Adrian caged her in, his hands coming down on eitherside of her head. She was trapped there, his body so close that she could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension rolling off him in sharp, barely restrained waves.
Despite the shame still clinging to her skin, despite the anger simmering in her chest, a shiver of unwanted desire slid through her as he leaned closer, close enough that his breath brushed her cheek.
“What was that reckless behavior back there?” Adrian whispered vehemently.
His gaze dropped suddenly, drawn to her arm where his fingers had closed around it. Slowly, deliberately, he loosened his grip, his eyes narrowing as he took in the faint redness already blooming beneath the fabric.
His jaw tightened.
“Did he touch you?” he asked, his voice dropping even lower. Dangerous. “Did that man hurt you?”
Bridget blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “No,” she answered quickly. “I mean… Not like that. He only—”
Her words faltered as Adrian’s hand hovered near her arm, not quite touching, as though he were restraining himself from tracing the mark.
“He had no right,” Adrian said flatly, fury simmering beneath the calm. His hand curled into a fist against the wall beside her head. “None.”
The weight of his anger pressed into the narrow space between them, thick and suffocating. Bridget swallowed, suddenly too aware of how close he was, of how his chest rose and fell just inches from her own.
“But still,” he continued, his voice roughening as his attention snapped back to her face. “What in God’s name were you thinking?” His gaze burned into hers. “Kicking Tibault. Running away. Did you truly believe that would end well?”
His harsh words brought her out of the sudden bout of desire that had consumed her, and she glared at him.
“I should have suspected that you would defend someone like him,” she retorted. “He is probably a friend of yours. He seemed to know you quite well. I do not know how I was first so remiss in seeing that, of course, you are the type of man that frequents establishments such as these.”
Adrian cocked his head as he gave her a warning look that caused her blood to sizzle and her cheeks to flush. Bridget mentally cursed herself. She was angry at him, and yet here she was, feeling her body react in such a way!
