His cousin shook his head vigorously. “Iwantthe letter.” He pulled Clementine tighter to him and she squeaked when the blade pressed into her skin.
Roman’s pulse thundered through him when he spotted the slightest stain of blood upon her skin. Jones was going to pay for that.
“You want money?” He shifted closer. “Fine. I’ll give you money. Release Clementine and name your sum.”
Jones opened his mouth then shut it again. He glanced around the bedroom. “You’ll pay for her safety?”
“Indeed.”
“How much?”
“As much as you want.”
When Jones shifted, Roman moved forward. He grabbed the man’s wrist, drawing the knife far away from Clementine and allowing her to stumble backward toward the bed with a cry.
Jones struggled against his hold. “Damn. It. Bastard,” he grunted and squirmed.
The blade swept past Roman’s stomach as they tussled over it, forcing Roman to dart back. He squeezed hard on the man’s wrist, making Jones bellow, and the knife thudded to the wooden floor. Roman poured all his frustration into one swift punch to the face.
Jones howled, wavered back a few steps, and clutched his nose. “You broke my nose,” he wailed.
“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.” Roman kicked aside the knife and it skittered across the floor to vanish under the bed. Then he grabbed his cousin by the collar of his shirt and hauled him toward the bedroom door. “If I see you again, I will kill you,” he promised in low tones. “I will happily kill you,” he repeated.
Clementine remained near the bed, her chest rising and falling as she gripped one of the wooden posts. Roman motioned to her. “Stay here,” he said as tenderly as he could manage. He didn’t want her dashing off and doing something silly like fainting, or worse, racing after them so she could get her own punch in. “I’ll be back. First, I need to escort this bastard off the premises.”
He swore she wanted to correct his language as he hauled Jones out of the room. The idea Clementine could have a knife to her throat one minute then be reprimanding him the next almost made him smile.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Ithought he was going to stab you.” Clem gripped Roman’s shirt sleeves as soon as he returned to the room, aware her hands trembled.
He took her face in his hands, his palms warm, comforting, strong. She wanted to close her eyes to absorb the sensation, but she feared looking away from him. Her heart still pounded like the hooves of a runaway horse. Just one slip, one reckless action, and she might have lost him. Her vision blurred with the sting of tears.
“Clem,” he said, taking her into his hold and carefully cradling her to his chest. “Everything is well. I’ve dispatched him back home with enough threats to ensure he never sets foot here again. Mr. Tolly and his men will be keeping a close eye out for him for the next few weeks, and after the blow he received a few weeks back, that man wants revenge almost more than I do.”
She listened to his steady heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of his even breaths. His powerful hold and the feel of his firm chest beneath her uninjured cheek worked wonders. She found herself able to forget the glint of the knife or the throb in her face. All that mattered was that Roman was safe and unharmed.
She drew away slightly to peer up at him. “What will you do?”
“With my stepcousin?”
She nodded.
“The man is a coward really, and he knows damn well I wanted to kill him for what he did to you.” He slid a finger down her chin and darkness flickered in his gaze when it settled upon her cheek. “I doubt he shall cause any more problems.” He shook his head. “Does it hurt?”
“I imagine it looks worse than it is.”
“If only we had known about Jones.” He skimmed a finger over her neck. “I could have ended this before it started.”
“He said he heard about the letter as a child. Your aunt had no idea.” Clem wanted to spread her fingers across the pain etched into Roman’s forehead. He was safe, she was safe. That was all that mattered. She smiled. “You hit him quite hard.”
“He’s lucky it was only a punch,” he said through a tight jaw.
“Do you truly think it’s all over?”
Roman fixed her with a firm look. “I guarantee it.”
Clem pushed a strand of mussed hair from her face and allowed herself a long exhale. If Roman said it was over, she believed it. Her cheek throbbed. “I must look awful.”