“What are you doing?”
Ignoring her demand, Jamie towed her toward the stairs. When she tried to stop him, he turned, bent, and hoisted her over his shoulder. Lady Alice pummeled his back with her fists the entire way up, but he didn’t stop until he reached the outer door at the rear of the building. Only once they were outside and in the shadows did he set her down.
“Are you mad?” Jamie thundered. “What possible reason could you have for being in such a place surrounded by men?” He rarely raised his voice, but he was roaring at her now. “Explain yourself at once, Lady Alice!”
“What I am doing there is no concern of yours, Lord Stafford. The better question is why you were conducting yourself in such a barbaric manner.”
He had to give her credit. Most people would have fled from his anger, but Lady Alice stood her ground, her voice calm.
“Think again,” he said, leaning closer, deliberately intimidating her. “If you came here to find Jackson, you’re a fool. I warned you to stay away from him.”
Jamie respected women. His sisters would never forgive him should he not behave around them as the gentleman he’d been raised to be. But right now his restraint was gone. The thrill of the fight still coursed through him. Usually, he would walk home and let the night air cool his temper. Not this time.
“You have no say in what I do!” she snarled.
He couldn’t help admiring her courage. Minutes ago, she’d been terrified, and likely still was, but there was no sign of it on her face.
She was still dressed as she had been at the ball, and once again, he felt that sudden surge of heat when he was near her.Awareness. He had not experienced it often, if ever. Combined with the aftereffects of the fight, it was a dangerous mix. His senses felt sharpened, every breath charged.
She pressed her lips into a hard line and glared at him, defiant when any sensible person would have quailed.
“This is no game.” Jamie gripped her shoulders and shook her once.
“Unhand me!”
“Why are you here?” He pulled her closer until only inches separated them. Her soft floral scent washed over him, stealing his reason.
“Damn you,” he muttered, and before he could stop himself, he was kissing her.
He had no right to take such liberties, yet in that moment, stopping was impossible. Her lips were soft, and when her hand clenched in his shirt instead of striking him, the world narrowed to nothing but her.
Jamie slid a hand down her arm to her back, pressing her closer. A low sound escaped him as her curves met his chest. His other hand cupped her head, angling it so he could deepen the contact. She arched into him, and he swallowed her soft moan.
Need pounded through Jamie, driving out rational thought. One kiss led to another. He should stop, but he couldn’t, not when she tasted like this.
What’s so special about her?
That thought broke through the haze, and Jamie drew back.
“Dear Lord,” she whispered. Her eyes were dark with passion. Then, slowly, clarity returned, and shock replaced the heat. He was certain it mirrored his own.
“Why did you kiss me?”
Jamie had no answer. His body still ached with need, as anger and lust warred inside him.
“Why were you in that room, my lady?” he asked.
She stared up at him for several seconds, then released his shirt and shoved him hard in the chest. He stepped back.
“I want an answer, Lady Alice.”
Her chin lifted. The cool, composed Lady Alice was back—haughty, beautiful, untouchable. But he knew better now. He’d touched her and felt her tremble. She had wanted that kiss as much as he had.
“I will give you no answer.” Her tone was ice.
“Do you understand the danger you put yourself in by stepping into that room? Any of those men could have ruined you had they known who you were. If anyone found out you were here tonight watching a bare-knuckle fight, you would be an outcast, and never able to frequent society again.”
“I wore my cloak,” she said, her voice husky enough to heat his blood all over again. “And I care little about society.”
