“Just hold on to me.” It took one skilled swipe with a blade to kill a man or woman for that matter. Fear held him in a stranglehold. But he kept moving. The blackguard might be three steps behind, and Valentine would not know. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
The hazy glow of a gaslight drew his attention. The familiar sign of Collier’s bookshop sent a wave of relief washing over him. At least they were heading in the right direction and were but one street from Golden Square.
“Valentine, wait,” Miss Kendall repeated, once again addressing him as an intimate friend. “Can we not stop for a moment?”
From his recollection, they were near the mews on Rupert Street. Perhaps it would serve them well to hide for a time. The likelihood that the rogue was still stalking after them was slim. Still, he would not take a chance. He slowed to a walking pace and looked for where the pavement met the cobblestones.
He drew Miss Kendall through the entrance to the mews and pulled her behind the stone archway. It was dark, the faint glow of lanterns hanging from the stalls beyond, and the chink of a hammer hitting metal confirmed they were not entirely alone.
“Thieves are bountiful on a night such as this,” he whispered as he pressed her back against the stone column and shrouded her with his body. “If you must rest, then let it be away from the main thoroughfare.”
The tops of their boots touched. They were so close the smell of her perfume—iris, rose and jasmine—filled his head. The heat from her body warmed every fibre of his being.
“The rogue tried to cut the drawstring on my reticule,” she said between laboured breaths.
“Perhaps he followed you to the pawnbroker. Knew you would have something valuable.”
“No doubt.” Miss Kendall looked up into his eyes. “I’m glad you were there. The fog descended so quickly.” The words were tinged with mild panic. “I don’t know what I would have done had—”
“Hush.” Valentine placed his finger on her lips. “There is no need to worry.” Their bodies were so close he felt the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “You’re safe now. That is all that matters.”
Slowly, he drew his finger down over her lips to her chin, and then cupped her cheek in a gesture of reassurance—well, that was what he told himself.
“Fear is somewhat exhilarating,” she whispered in a hushed tone he found highly sensual. “My blood is pumping so fast I can hardly catch my breath.”
His breath came quick, too, though it had nothing to do with almost losing one’s life to a knife-wielding scoundrel.
“Perhaps we are both lacking a little excitement in our lives, Miss Kendall.” This was not the calm, sedate life he envisioned for himself when he returned from his travels abroad, and yet he had never felt more alive.
“Excitement often leads to recklessness,” she replied.
He stared at her parted lips. “In such a case, one might lose sight of Society’s rigid rules. One might be inclined to ignore the consequences of one’s actions.”
Her mouth curled into a half smile. “And what would tempt a man of your experience to behave so rashly?”
Valentine moistened his lips. “Oh, I think you know.”
A vibrant energy sparked in the air between them.
“Kissing a lady in a dark corner of th
e mews might be considered reckless.”
“Reckless and irresponsible,” he agreed. “And would a lady with worldly experience be willing to pander to my whims?”
Miss Kendall blinked rapidly. “Once won’t hurt.”
“Once will not be enough,” Valentine said, his voice low and husky as his mouth came crushing down on hers.
The touch of her lips set his body aflame.
She did not wait for him to set the pace but moved her mouth frantically over his as if desperate to drain every drop of pleasure. Their breathing grew urgent, ragged. A low moan resonated in her throat, the sound as erotic as anything he had imagined while fantasising about her in bed last night.
Aveline Kendall tasted like no other woman before. She tasted of wild, forbidden fruit warmed from the heat of the sun. She tasted as rich and as intoxicating as the finest wine, a combination that made him dizzy. She tasted exotic—strangely unique though highly addictive. The urge to delve into her mouth took hold. With one hand, he cupped her neck, his thumb coming to rest on her cheek as he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue. Then he pushed inside the warm, wet den of iniquity that was sure to rid him of every noble intention.
The intrusion startled her for a second, no more, and then she matched the desperate sweeps of his tongue. He thrust deeper. Took command. Plunged into her mouth to sate the hunger writhing in his veins. But there was only one way to bring this mating of mouths to a climax and anything more than a passionate kiss was a step too far considering their current location.
Valentine tore his lips away. “Perhaps that is enough excitement for one evening. The gentleman in me is aware that I have already overstepped the mark.”