“That’s not what I meant,” he said with a teasing smile.
Camelia’s thoughts spiraled with unforeseen desire. Her fingers tightened on his collar, and another faint moan spilled past her lips before she could stop it.
“For twenty thousand pounds,” she whispered, her lips trembling.
A primal sound tore from the stranger’s throat. But then, with a reluctant groan, he drew further back, his hands steady yet firm on her waist.
“Not here,” he said.
Camelia looked up at him, embarrassment and hope warring within her. “Where would you?—”
Before she could ask, he spun her about and pressed her against the cool, shadowed wall of the alley. A gasp escaped her as his fingers grazed the fabric of her dress under her cloak and ventured lower, teasing the hem of her skirt.
Camelia gasped. She squirmed under his touch, struggling to control her breathing.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he whispered against her ear, “Liar.”
She froze in his arms, but before she could muster a reply, he seized her arm, pulling her out of the alley’s shadows.
What will become of my family if I fail?
Fear gripped her. “What in heaven’s name are you doing?” she demanded as she tugged against him. “Unhand me this instant!”
“You cannot stay here. You’re coming with me,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Coming with you? To where?” she snapped, yanking her arm in vain. “I’m here for business! Release me, or I’ll scream!”
“Not here, not tonight,” he declared flatly.
“Where are you taking me?” she hissed, her eyes blazing like twin suns. “You know nothing about my purpose! Imustdo this, and you’ve no right to stop me!”
“We’re not doing this,” he growled, and she sensed his patience fraying as he steered her forward.
Will I see my family again? What will happen to them?
“Let me go! I’ll find another to take your place!” she pleaded, twisting in his grip with a surprising ferocity she hadn’t known she possessed. “There are plenty who wouldn’t hesitate!”
“There’ll be no others,” he retorted, his voice dangerously low.
Who is he to command me?
“Please!” she cried. “I cannot leave Whitechapel!”
In one swift motion, the stranger hoisted her over his right shoulder.
Camelia’s outraged squeal pierced the night. Her slight weight was no burden to him as he carried her off to an awaiting carriage. She let out a scream and pounded his back with her dainty fists.
“Put me down!” she shrieked, pounding harder. “Where are you dragging me? I demand you release me at once!”
“You’re coming with me, little flower,” he announced, her struggles barely slowing his pace.
“Howdareyou!” she spat, her voice muffled against his coat. “If you do not need my services then put me down, this instance!”
The stranger tightened his grip on her thighs, and his hot touch made her squeeze them together.
Curse my body for reacting this way!
“Fighting me is useless,” he countered, his tone resolute as he pressed on. “You’re too fragile.”
