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A small, uncertain sound escaped her throat before she extended her hand. “Here, you carry the money.”

She pressed her palm against his, her skin warm against the chill clinging to his fingers.

He closed his hand over the notes.

This closeness, this urgent intimacy, to Roxina unsettled him. He could not see her face, but that made the awareness between them more tangible.

“I do not have a pocket,” she said. “Besides, I do not know who sent it, and that discomfits me.” She tilted her head slightly, confusion clear in her voice. “I have refused to spend a penny, but we may well need it.”

The darkness concealed his reaction, and Shelby silently thanked the lack of light. He knew exactly where that money had come from, and a deep ache settled in his chest. Roxina had never used the funds he sent to bring her peace of mind.

Accepting the money from her, he added half to his hidden stash.

“How much is here, Roxina?”

Shelby knew, of course, but she might find it suspicious if he did not ask. It would more than cover their expenses for the journey to London and provide for their needs for some time.

“A little over seventy-five pounds. From an anonymous source.” A hard edge tinged her tone before she snapped her fingers. “Dash, come.”

Dash padded into the kitchen.

“If we become separated, you should have money with you, Roxina. Put this inside your shoe.” Shelby placed the notes in her palm.

A pregnant pause filled the space between them, the air charged with an undefined undercurrent. Her hesitation sent an unspoken message.

Roxina didn’t like being forced to do anything.

The rustle of fabric broke the silence as she shifted. Her cloak brushed against his arm, a whisper of warmth in the cool room.

Shelby clenched his hands, resisting the ridiculous impulse to reach for her—to confess he had gifted the funds because he loved her.

The danger had not passed, but in the cottage’s stillness, with only the darkness and the quiet press of their breath between them, something else loomed—something far more dangerous than any man who may wait outside.

Was Roxina also remembering their too-brief kiss?

He sure as hell couldn’t forget it.

In fact, it had lit a fire he wasn’t certain he could prevent from turning into a raging conflagration.

Shelby exhaled slowly, steadying himself and reining in his roaring passion.

“We must go, Roxina.”

TWELVE

A couple of seconds later

A small sigh escaped her. “Of course, you are right. I’m sorry to be so mulish.”

A moment later, a chair scraped across the floor, overly loud in the cottage’s silence. She sat down, swiftly removed her half-boot, tucked the money inside, then slipped her foot into the boot again. The soft rustle of leather and the faint creak of the laces tightening filled the space.

As she secured the ties, she murmured, “I certainly never imagined you and I would ever be conspirators.”

Taking advantage of the dark to hide his expression, Shelby dared bathe her with a loving gaze. A fool’s indulgence, but one he could not resist.

In another time and another place, mayhap they might have been much more to each other.

For now, he appreciated that she no longer challenged him or hurled insults at every turn.