“I don’t ask questions, and he pays. I have a family—”
“I’m not interested in your family. If that was indeed true, then how would you feel if your wife had a strange man touch her as you did this lady?” Monty snapped.
Silence followed.
“Did you ever hear a name? Anything?”
“Diaboli.”
Devil, Monty translated.
“How do you get your orders?”
“A boy brings me a note. It tells me where to be.”
“The man you work for, what does he look like?”
“Tall, thin with a right beaky face.”
Large nose, Monty thought.
“How long have you worked for him?”
“A year.”
“Someone is coming,” Iris whispered as the sound of footsteps reached them.
“If I ever come across you again, I’ll make you pay for touching her. I can’t do that now, as it will draw attention and I need to get the lady to safety, but know that I am aware of what you look like. Do not cross my path again.”
Iris’s mouth fell open at his threat. He ignored her and swung his fist; it connected with the man’s jaw. He slumped, unconscious. There was no more time to interrogate. He had to get Iris out of here before someone recognized her.
“Stay at my back,” he directed her as they walked to the door. Opening it a crack, he stared out but saw no one. “Do not look at anyone and walk as close to my back as you can. Do you understand?”
“They are simple instructions—”
“Iris,” he growled.
“Yes, I understand.”
He left the room and started down the stairs with her on his heels. Reaching the public bar, he felt her hand grip his cloak. Monty walked a straight line to the door. When someone stepped into his path, he pushed them aside and continued until they reached the exit. Only when they were outside did he pull Iris in front of him.
“Walk to the end of the street.”
Thankfully, she did as he directed without comment. Monty kept his pistol at his side, following her. Reaching his horse, he paid the boys, and they disappeared into the night.
“I’m not sure—” Her words ended on a shriek as Monty picked her up and threw her on the back of his horse. He vaulted on behind her. His arm slipped around her waist, and he held her against him.
“Pull the front of your bonnet down,” he ordered her.
She did as he said, and soon they were heading to her house. Her body was flush to his, and Monty was aware of everywhere they touched; even through the layers of clothing, he could feel her.
He had no memory of wanting someone like he did Iris. She was becoming a problem, because with exposure, his need for her was rising.
“If you see a carriage, horse, anyone on the street, lower your eyes, Iris.”
She nodded. Just a single jerky movement.
Monty was always in control. Always knew exactly what was to be done in any situation. He worked and lived his life in solitude. He never gave in to urges others did. Passions that made a man do something he shouldn’t. Emotion exposed people, and they became weak and vulnerable.
