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“Here now, you’re safe. They won’t be back tonight.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and with care dabbed at the blood easing from the corner of her mouth. With her head uplifted, the soft moonlight flowing over her face, and those vivid blue eyes engulfing him with interest and trust, he felt a curious sensation assail him, one akin to tenderness. “You best do this. I’m no good at doctoring and I could hurt you,” he said, the contact with her igniting new flames within him. How strange, he mused, for this little wisp of golden glory to enchant him completely.

Leigh took the cloth and wiped at the redness on her chin. He grinned as she wet it with her tongue and washed away the last traces. Her tongue tested the injured area and she winced; she must have bitten the tender skin during her struggles. The cut would annoy her for a few days until it healed. She realized that he was observing her with bold intensity and open curiosity, and she warmed and trembled.

“I know there isn’t a restaurant around here, not the kind you’re looking for. Do you know its name?” he asked, struggling to restrain the fiery urges that she sparked within him.

“No, I don’t. I was only given the address—the wrong one. I hope you didn’t ruin your clothes,” she remarked, unsettled by this man who didn’t look the least ruffled—in appearance or manner—by his confrontation with those crude bullies.

He glanced down at his garments and shrugged. “Too bad that little scuffle didn’t ruin them. Then I would have a logical excuse for skipping my dinner tonight.” That wasn’t the truth, but he had to respond in a polite and careful manner.

Leigh laughed. “Perhaps I can reward you by dirtying them.” She sensed he hadn’t been truthful, because he didn’t seem a man who did what he didn’t want to do. If he had to attend an offensive dinner, he must have a good reason for doing so, and he didn’t need to explain himself to a total stranger in a dim alley.

His smile was disarming and his laughter contagious when he sent forth both before replying, “Don’t tempt me, woman; I’m a weakling for heady amusement and unusual adventures.”

“So am I,” she responded rashly, and saw a sensual smile capture his mouth and a matching gleam appear in those compelling eyes. “My cloak and purse,” she murmured to cover her slip in ladylike behavior. She glanced around for her possessions. This man had been a perfect gentleman so far, but the attraction between them was powerful and they were in a secluded location. She didn’t want him to mistake her gratitude and interest as wanton overtures and become too forward with her. “It’s getting late. I’d better go.”

He retrieved her purse and cloak and held them for her. “We’ll locate you another carriage with a better driver.” He smiled and offered her his elbow to escort her to the main street.It is late, very late,he agreed. He was too distracted by this fetching female and intoxicating episode, and she was too responsive for him not to notice and be affected. He had to get moving. He had plenty to attempt tonight under the cover of protective darkness.

As they walked along, Leigh eyed him. His tanned face said he spent most of his time outside. His physical condition said he was an active man. His playful smile had revealed even, white teeth the color of virgin snow but with the power of a white-hot heat to melt it. Yet, it was his eyes, his arresting gaze, that paralyzed her until she felt brazen and weak. They were as green as newborn leaves in the spring. His gaze was alive, merry, mischievous, secretive. His rich voice returned her to reality once more.

“Where are you staying?” he inquired as they halted beneath the streetlamp. If she had been missing very long, someone must be searching for her and might track her here. He had to get rid of her quickly and safely before his presence was discovered and he was arrested and imprisoned. His dark thoughts caused his tone to sound cold and annoyed when he added, “I’m very late for my dinner appointment. Let’s get you out of here. It’ll have to be back to the hotel because your clothes and hair are mussed. Surely you don’t want to go looking like this or tongues will wag like crazy.”

Miffed, Leigh told him the name and address of the hotel. His change in mood baffled and surprised her. He was speaking to her like an errant child again! Suddenly she was very unsure of herself.

Yet the man beside her was much too aware of her beauty and appeal. To him, she was a formidable magnet who was pulling him into greater peril. He’d already remained too long. A defensive and instinctive urgency to withdraw surged through him—for more than his physical safety. He had no time for this woman or romance. He needed to get out of sight fast, and out of London soon.

Confused, distressed, and enchanted by this enigmatic stranger, she almost whispered, “I’m sorry I detained you so long. If you’ll be kind enough to help me find a carriage, I won’t trouble you further. I’m certain everyone is worried about me and out looking for me. I need to get to the hotel and repair my appearance.” She checked her gown. “It’s ruined, and it’s new.”

Perceptive to her new mood and his, he softened and flashed her a crooked smile of apology. His accent was definitely British. But why was he so mercurial and skittish? He wasn’t the type to be afraid of anything or anyone; his brave actions had proven his courage, compassion, and self-assurance. She was positive that his odd behavior had to do with more than the possibly unwanted attraction between them.

His jungle-green gaze met her ocean-blue one, and he lost himself in those swirling pools. He caressed her flushed cheek and teased, “Don’t worry about making me late. I would skip tonight if there wasn’t something important I need to find …” His words halted as he realized he was talking too much to relax her. He lowered his hand and took a few steps away from her to cool his fiery blood. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t been near a very beautiful and desirable female in a long time. He had secluded exile and a foe’s treachery to blame for that denial. For what seemed like ages, all he had cared, dreamed, and thought about were justice and revenge. Soon, he would track them down and capture them, no matter what he had to do to his prey!

Leigh watched him slip into brooding silence. As she waited before him for a carriage or his mental return, she recalled how his size, strength, and prowess had easily and swiftly discouraged her would-be assailants. Although she was five foot five, the top of her head only reached his shoulder. He was like a towering oak. His lean, firm body moved with ease and purpose. His stance and bearing were ones of self-confidence and vainless pride. She detected a smidgen of arrogance yet, he did not give off an “I know it all” air, only an “I do whatIthink is right.” Still, he seemed tense. No, she corrected herself, he seemed alert, like a rancher awaiting the arrival of ravenous wolves or dangerous rustlers after his stock. But why, she mused, when he believed her attackers would not return?

Leigh remembered how glimmers of merriment and tenderness could soften his features in a blink. His face had planes and angles of strength and determination. In fact, his features were bold and striking with a royal or aristocratic hint. He could be very tough or extremely gentle, and she liked that heady mixture in a man—a blend her father had possessed. She sensed undercurrents of powerful emotions that were savagely tugging at him tonight like an unmerciful and stormy ocean at a drowning victim. She wondered what kind of problem was tormenting him and how he would solve it, with fists or wits—or with both. He was indeed the most virile, fearless, handsome man alive. He was even more appealing than Lord Chadwick Hamilton, which was a difficult task to accomplish. She was drawn to him and to the aura of excitement—and even a hint of danger—that exuded from him. Yes, he was a stimulating blend of dangers and desires.

Leigh pondered what it would feel like to have those sensual lips covering hers. Recalling the forceful and repulsive kisses which the sailors had placed on her lips and body, she rubbed her mouth as if to remove all traces of them. She shuddered.

“Cold?” He came forward to put her cloak around her shoulders. He wiggled her purse onto her wrist.

“Those vile beasts kissed me.”

On impulse, the dark-haired man lifted her chin and gazed into her responsive eyes. “Real kisses should be like this, my damsel in distress,” he murmured, then closed his mouth over hers.

Leigh’s senses reeled at his touch and taste. His lips were gentle yet persuasive. They were seeking and hungry, yet controlled. She swayed against him and responded by returning his kiss and slipping her arms around his waist. His kiss deepened, and his embrace strengthened. Never had Leigh been held or kissed this way. She liked the wonderful sensations and wanted them to continue. The danger of such behavior escaped her. She was only aware of her desires.

She pressed closer to him, their embrace becoming enticingly intimate. Her heart pounded as his skilled mouth aroused her to greater heights. She was floating in a dreamy land. Not once did she think, or want, to refuse him or to pull away. He moaned against her mouth and tightened his hold.

Though her response became as feverish as his, something told the man she was an innocent. He leaned away from her and gazed into her flushed face and smoldering blue eyes. She looked so young and pure with those big blue eyes and soft gold hair, but so much a captivating creature on the verge of womanhood. He wanted to learn all about her, not just make an easy and meaningless conquest. She was too unique to treat that way. Yet this was not the time or place to test or enjoy her potent magic. Didn’t this blue-eyed angel realize what she did to a man? Didn’t this flaxen-haired minx understand how dangerous and inviting her impetuous actions were? Didn’t this maiden grasp what she was unintentionally imploring and inspiring him to do? This tempting female and curious situation spelled trouble, big trouble! With a strained voice he almost demanded, “How old are you?”

Leigh’s eyes widened in puzzlement. “Twenty, why?” Did he fear she was too young and naive to be desirable? After all, a man like this could have any woman he wanted.

“Name?” he questioned in that same stern tone.

“Laura Leigh—” She did not finish because a noise caught their attention and both glanced in that direction. It was a carriage, but too distant to hail. He had released her and scanned their dusky surroundings with eagle eyes. “Who are you?” she asked.

With a roguish grin, he replied, “Sir Lancelot, naturally.” He saw her frown at his jest. Clearly this girl was a virginal innocent and she didn’t realize the dangerous flames she was igniting within him. She had that same trusting, but not gullible, air that Joanna had before … He dismissed that infuriating line of thought. He had to end this matter and get out of the light. In a serious tone, he said, “Just a friendly warning, Laura, don’t ever respond to any man like that if you intend to remain pure in mind and body. You’re far too beautiful and tempting to be ignored. Tell your father-”

He sounded almost angry, which was exactly how she felt at his chiding. She interrupted. “My parents are dead, and I’m old enough to take care of myself. In most circumstances,” she added when she saw him shake his head skeptically. “I’m a grown woman, sir, not an inquisitive child.”


Tags: Janelle Taylor Historical