Wick sprinted to the room, pushed open the door. The study was small, dominated by a desk and book-lined walls, with a small sofa by the fire. A man dressed like a pirate had a woman pressed up against one of the bookshelves, his arms caging her as she struggled.
The despicable bastard.With smoldering fury, Wick stalked over.
“Pick on someone your own size,” he growled.
As he grabbed the cad by the scruff, the man let out a startled shout, stumbling backward into Wick. With an oath, Wick caught his balance…and found himself staring at the barrel of a pistol.
His gaze travelled beyond the weapon to the lady holding it. A white satin mask covered her face, leaving only her eyes and mouth revealed. Brassy red curls cascaded over her shoulders and back. Her tall, willowy figure was clad in a gown of unrelieved black, her arms encased in matching black satin gloves.
The gloved hands holding the small, pearl-handled pistol were notably steady. As was the gaze the lady aimed at the bastard who’d been accosting her.
“Get out,” she said in cultured tones.
The man, whose face was pale beneath his piratical eye patch, needed no further encouragement, running off like a cur with its tail between its legs. Wick resisted the impulse to go after the bounder and pummel an apology out of him.
Instead, he turned to the woman. “Are you all right, miss?”
Her gaze shifted to him. Her eyes took on the color of the candlelight, mysterious and flickering. A strange awareness stirred his nape.
“I had the situation well in hand.” Her voice was calm, with a pleasing musical lilt.
“That I do not doubt.” Wick offered her a wry smile. “Would you mind lowering the pistol? I give you my word I mean no harm.”
She blinked, as if she’d forgotten she still held the gun. After a moment’s hesitation, she slipped it into the folds of her skirts. The way another lady might tuck away a handkerchief.
“My thanks, sir.” She moved to stand behind the desk, putting it between them. “For intervening in that unpleasant situation.”
As she spoke, his gaze was drawn to her mouth. Framed by the edge of her mask, her lips were rosy and plump. He suspected the rest of her face would be equally enticing. The satin mask molded to her delicate bone structure, and if her neck and shoulders were any indication, her skin was as smooth and flawless as porcelain. It was too dim for him to see the color of her eyes—some shade of blue, he reckoned—but they were large and almond-shaped, fringed by the longest lashes he’d ever seen.
She’d opted for a costume not in the current style. The classical column suited her figure which, while slender, was also rounded in his favorite places. Her gown’s scooped neckline revealed the lovely rounded tops of her breasts, medium sized and with a firm jiggle that made his palms itch to test their heft. Her straight skirts flowed over her lush hips, the kind that would cradle a man as he plowed her…
Wick frowned. What was the matter with him? He had no business lusting over the lady, even if she was the first to arouse his senses in longer than he cared to admit. Having just escaped a mauling, the last thing she needed was more male attention.
He cleared his throat. “My intervention, as it were, was quite superfluous. Shall I return you to your friends?”
“I came alone as that would better serve my purpose.”
“Ah.” It was all he could think to say to her frank reply.
There was only one reason a female like her would come alone to a place like this. She was here to partake in wild, anonymous, no-strings-attached tupping.
The lust he’d suppressed licked hot and low in his belly. Yet his honor refused to let him yield to temptation. She was clearly a lady and vulnerable…she could be in some sort of shock.
“Then allow me to escort you to your carriage,” he said. “Or to summon one for you.”
Her gaze fixed on her skirts, the way she smoothed them out a veritable art form.
“I’m not ready to leave,” she said crisply.
“It’s too dangerous for you to be here alone—”
“I am not alone, am I?” She raised her compelling eyes to his again. “I came for a specific reason tonight, and I gather you did as well.”
Her directness affected him like a blow to the chest. His breath shortened, his blood pounding in his veins. Whatwasit about this female that he found so intriguing? Was it her mysterious beauty? The contrast between her physical delicacy and uncommon backbone?
Maybe it’s just her maddeningly delectable tits.
“I would not take advantage,” he said candidly.
