London, England
March 11, 1896
Laura Leigh Webster was annoyed by the late invitation with its ring of a summons. She did not mind having dinner with her stepuncle and guardian, Lord Chadwick Hamilton, but she hated to endure another unpleasant evening with his petulant lover Louisa and their friends. Still, she supposed it would be best to just dress quickly and join them. She was going to be going on a safari with these people; she might as well learn to enjoy their company.
As Leigh fastened a locket around her neck, visions of British East Africa floated dreamily through her mind. That wild and exotic land seemed to call to her as the American West had called to settlers. Even though Chad was taking Louisa, Reid, and Cynthia along, Leigh was eager to leave on their journey. Her tasks here were finished for a while, and others could wait until her return. It was time for a taste of adventure.
Leigh had come to London in February to claim an inheritance from her grandfather, William Webster, who had died in December. So far, she had learned a great deal about the family business and her enormous inheritance from Chad, who was her legal guardian until she reached twenty-one in November and who was to continue running the textile empire for her.
Chad had also introduced her to a constant social whirl that was like nothing she’d ever experienced back home in Texas. It was delightful learning her way around London and getting reacquainted with Chad. She smiled as she remembered how infatuated she’d been with her grandfather’s shadow when she was fifteen. He’d been quite charming then, too! But if she didn’t hurry, she’d get no warm smiles from him tonight! She locked her door and dropped the key into a string purse.
At the hotel’s entrance, a waiting carriage approached the fashionably chad female before a doorman returned to aid her. Leigh asked the smiling driver if he was available to take her to Stams Street. The man looked at her strangely but nodded, jumping down to assist her into the carriage. Then he asked for the address again. Leigh spoke it, then spelled it for him, deciding it might be her American accent that had him confused.
They headed off in an easterly direction. It was almost dusk, and lanterns on the carriage were burning to warn pedestrians against stepping into its path. Leigh noticed that streetlamps were being lit where electric street lighting was unavailable. The driver talked to her over his right shoulder, telling her about London. Leigh was too polite to say she had already toured his beloved city. Yet, as she studied the sights they were passing, she did not recognize any of them.
Her ears and nose told her they were nearing the waterfront. She heard the soft ringings of bells as anchored ships bobbed on the rising tide, and squeaking noises as they rubbed against wooden docks. She heard unlowered sails flapping in the breeze, and sailors passing orders back and forth as they prepared for late landings. Then, she saw masts towering above structures for the storing of goods before or after loading. Down a street or two, she glimpsed the cluttered docks surrounding the Thames River and a variety of vessels—small crafts, sailing ships, and one steamer. She leaned forward and tugged on the driver’s arm. “Are you sure you know where Stams Street is?” she inquired.
He smiled and replied, “Tae be sure, lass. There she ‘tis.” He pointed ahead to where a glowing lamp illuminated a sign which read STAMS STREET. He halted and jumped down. As he assisted her from her seat, he smiled amiably and said, “Number six be down there, near tha end, lass. That’ll be three shillings.”
As he held out his hand, Leigh fetched the money from her purse and paid him. She walked to the shadowy street—more like an alley, she told herself—and glanced down the full length to a walled deadend. She didn’t like this situation. No one was about, and it would be dark soon. There must be a mistake. Before she could ask the driver to either wait for her or to escort her to the door, he departed in a rush. The hurried clattering of his horse and carriage drowned out her calls to him.
Her blue eyes wide and apprehensive, she checked her surroundings. The air was cooler and damper at this secluded location so close to the water. Still, no one was in sight. Dusk was closing in on her and the alley. She heard no music, only faint noises of dock work and lapping water in the distance. It appeared too deserted and dismal for a restaurant to be nearby. Perhaps, she reasoned as she tried not to panic, it was a private address and a surprise party was in store.
Leigh walked to the building marked 6 and halted. Sighting the address, a small amount of relief filled her. She approached the heavy door and knocked, the sound ringing hollow and faint in the enclosure. Nothing. She pulled on the handle. It was locked. Balling her fist, she pounded on the thick door. No response.
Concern created tiny lines on her forehead and between her brows. This setting explained the driver’s odd look when she had given him the address. She wondered why Chad would ask her to come to a deserted location, then not be there. He was too familiar with London to …
Leigh scolded herself for jumping to dark suspicions about her stepuncle and guardian. The Webster estate was worth a large fortune, but she knew for certain that Chadwick Hamilton wouldn’t inherit it if something happened to her. In fact, since she had the power to ensure his lucrative and prestigious position, it was to his advantage to keep her safe and well. Besides, Chad was more than fond of her, a fact that his jealous and greedy mistress had trouble accepting.
Perhaps, Leigh mused, Chad was watching her this very minute, testing her courage and wits before they left on the dangerous safari. He did have a devilish, mischievous streak. Or, Leigh reasoned, maybe this alarming joke was Louisa’s doing, meant to terrify her into running home to America. No, she refuted. Chad would be furious with his lover for playing such a perilous trick on his ward. Whoever was to blame, what she had to do was correct the error, and fast. This location was certainly dangerous for a woman alone. She needed to leave, now.
But before doing so, she would knock on every door in the forsaken area to see if someone trustworthy was around to assist her. There was no response at any of them. Most were marked with names of companies and included their business hours, all ceasing at five o’clock. She noticed the brass lettering on one: Alfred Johnston, Exports/Imports, British East Africa—her destination when she sailed on Monday.
Leigh felt uneasy, as if she were being watched. She wished she had her pistol or rifle for protection. On the ranch, she had confronted dangers before: wolves, thieves, snakes, and occasional rustlers. But she had been armed and usually not alone. Leigh scolded herself for getting into this predicament.
The man spying on Leigh was enchanted by her beauty and baffled by her presence in such a hazardous setting. When she lifted her face to observe her surroundings, he noticed that her features were exquisite, her eyes large and expressive. They were a rich blue shade that matched the campanula and monkshood that his mother had loved and grown in her flower gardens. Her brows and lashes were a dark brown, in startling contrast to her golden-blond hair with its sunny highlights. His gaze slipped over the way her hair was secured into a chignon at the back of her head, tendrils dangling down her neck and near her ears. Those short curls seemed to dance playfully in the breeze as if reveling in their freedom and closeness to such enticing flesh. A deep and vivid blue aigrette was pinned snugly against the flattering hairstyle, a spray that seemed to match her eyes, if his were seeing correctly in the fading light.
His stirring study continued. Her face was oval-shaped and her complexion was tawny from unprotected hours outdoors, a fact he found unusual for a proper lady, since most avoided the harsh sun with parasols to keep their skin like ivory silk. Her lips and cheeks seemed naturally pink and alluring. It did not take long for him to realize she had more than enough charms to stimulate a man’s interest and desires.
From his advantageous position above her, he could see her clearly though the light was fading. She was slender, of medium height, and her figure was appealing. Very appealing, he concluded, as he was reminded of how long it had been since he’d enjoyed a woman’s charms. Despite his many experiences with the fair sex, something told him he had never had a woman like her before.
He tried to divert his carnal yearnings by examining her clothing, seeking clues to her presence on the docks. She was wearing a gown with a blue velvet bodice that dipped to a point onto a cream brocade skirt. The tulle overskirt was decorated with blue floral sprays and the elbow-length sleeves were lifted and puffed at the shoulder, giving an impression of good posture and pride. A not-too-low neckline called his attention to that satiny area of bare flesh, and his fingers itched to wander over it. A small bouquet of blue silk flowers was attached to cream flouncing on the full bosom and made a striking contrast. Ivory sweepers that trailed the skirt gave off a soft rustling noise as she walked in soundless kid slippers.
He shook his dark head to clear it. He could not understand what a lady was doing here alone. She seemed to be looking for someone or a meeting place, perhaps a lovers’ rendezvous. If so, the man was a fool to be late and to sacrifice a moment in those arms! He was certain everyone had left the area, and that number 6—where she had first knocked—was unrented. He watched and listened.
Hoping this was merely an accident on someone’s part did not lessen Leigh’s tension and annoyance. She threw her cloak around her shoulders and headed toward the alley entrance with the main street nearby. At least she would be safer on the lamplit street where a carriage might come by at any time. Until one did or she reached a larger and better lighted street, she should keep moving in the same direction from which they had arrived.
Though Leigh’s kid slippers made little noise on the stone street, her gown and petticoat rustled noticeably. She came to a sudden halt, and her panic mounted. Two sailors blocked the alleyway. Perhaps that explained why she’d had the eerie feeling of being watched. One took a long drink from a bottle, then tossed it aside. Glass shattered loudly. The two men laughed and nudged each other, then headed her way.
If they hadn’t already sighted the begowned and vulnerable lady, Leigh knew they’d see her—there was still enough light for them to spot her cream colored skirt and blond hair. It was foolish to scream for help and appear terrified and helpless. Yet that was how she felt as they closed in on her, leering, laughing, and joking in a crude manner. From their rumpled clothing and the way they were walking and talking, they had been drinking heavily, and her father had always said a drunken man was dangerous and unpredictable.
Leigh thought quickly. The two sailors were between her and escape. Weaponless, she had only her wits for aid. Perhaps a bluff would work on them and gain her freedom from the entrapping area. She mustn’t let them know she was shaking in fear. She had to put up a bold front and hope they were sober and smart enough not to assail a lady—if they could consider her one when she was in this awful location at night, and alone.
Walking forward, Leigh held her shoulders and head high as if unafraid of anything, especially them. She tried to pass between them without speaking. It didn’t work; each grabbed at a wrist. As she yanked backward to free herself before they got a good grip, her maneuver put them between her and the alley entrance again.
“How dare you touch me!” she cried. “Move aside so I can pass. I’m late for my dinner with Lord Salisbury,” she informed them, praying that powerful name would frighten them into obeying her.
The two sailors looked at each other, then howled with laughter. “Come on, me pretty wench, dinna be puttin’ on airs wif us,” one taunted in what she thought was an Irish or Scottish brogue.
“Yeah,” the other one agreed. “We’ll hae us a guid time right ‘ere. Ye been waitin’ long, me bonny lass?”
Leigh sent them a cold and arrogant glare. “Move aside or you’ll be sorry,” she warned, taking two steps backward. “Just like that stupid carriage driver who let me off at the wrong address. I suppose he thought it would be a funny trick on a naive American visitor. Neither I nor the prime minister will find this joke amusing.” Her mind searched for a plan. She hadn’t seen anything lying in the alley to use as a weapon—no brick, board, bucket, or such. “If it’s money you’re after, I only have a few pounds and shillings with me. I’ll give it to you after you let me pass. I can go on to Lord Salisbury’s and you can go somewhere to buy another bottle.”
One man pulled a bottle from his pocket and said, “We got us a bottle o’ guid Irish whiskey. Let’s be movin’ down tha alley sae nobody’ll disturb us. Ye ken have tha first sip after a wee kiss.”
“Let ‘er drink tha whole bottle, Jaimie, whilst I work under ‘er skirt,” the other man teased. “We been at sea to long to wait. Ye be ‘ere an’ dressed fur business. We’re as guid as any customer ye’ll find tonight, me bonny lass. What’s yer price? We hae plenty o’ money. I’ll tak’ a tumble wif ye first, right down there.”
“She’s got two ends, Sean. We ken enjoy ‘er at tha same time.”
The men’s vulgarity riled and frightened Leigh. She glared at them and stated, “I’m not a … a prostitute. I was on my way to a party, but the carriage driver left me here by mistake. If you come near me, you’ll pay with your lives.”
“Mistake, ye sae?” one sailor mocked her dilemma. He looked behind him, then back at her “Nae matter. We need a woman bad, an’ ye’re ‘ere. If ye be guid an’ nice, we’ll let ye go afterward. If ye dinna do as we sae, ye’ll git hurt. Then-n-n,” he said, drawing out the word to an intimidating length, “we’ll tak’ ye tae our capt’n an’ he’ll sell ye to one o’ them sheiks, after he be done wif ye. Which’ll it be, lass? Us or a bad dream?”
“If you dare harm me, you foul—” She didn’t get to finish her desperate threat before they grabbed for her once more.
Leigh fought like a wildcat, kicking, scratching, pelting her attackers with all her might. She heard her gown rip, and increased her struggles. Her hair came loose and the aigrette was flung to the ground. Her cloak was yanked off and cast aside. She wished she had on her boots, as her slippers did little—if any—damage to their shins. Several nail-tips broke as she clawed at her wicked assailants. They reeked of whiskey, body odor, greasy hair, and horseflesh. They seemed to be all over her, and winning the fierce battle.
The man spying on the predatory scene from an ajar window above them knew he had to help the young woman. He had hoped to remain concealed until her departure, but those ruffians were forcing him to expose himself. It was obvious the careless beauty was lost and in trouble. She was a superb fighter, but no match for those two wild animals. He had hesitated too long as it was. And there was something more that alarmed him about this brutal assault. He didn’t believe those men were really sailors. Their uniforms were not genuine navy issue. Someone had gone to considerable trouble to arrange this. Swearing under his breath, he rushed toward the back stairs, knowing if he was captured tonight it would cost him his freedom and probably his life.
“I’m Lady Leigh Hamilton. Lord Chadwick Hamilton of Webster International is my uncle. I was on my way to meet him for dinner. He’ll kill you if you harm me,” she cried breathlessly as she fought with the men, hoping to discourage them with fear of revenge.
The crude beasts continued in their attempt to subdue the thrashing female, laughing and joking as if it was a child’s game. She pleaded with them to stop, but they chuckled and increased their efforts to assault her. She tried to reason with them, and offered them a reward if they let her go. Nothing worked, not threats, not resistance, not a bribe, not pleas, not reasoning, not appealing to their non-existent consciences!
If she had ever doubted their malevolent intention, Leigh no longer did. They were enjoying her struggles, her helplessness, her feeble attempts to thwart them. Their lewd remarks singed her ears. Their cruel hands pawed at her. One sailor trailed slobbery kisses over her bare shoulder and back while the other one spread them over her face in his attempt to find her mouth. She wanted to retch. She screamed instead, and found hands clamped over her dry lips. Blind terror now ruled her senses.
When the assailant’s hands moved so he could replace them with his mouth, Leigh screamed again and kneed him in the groin. He doubled over with pain and nausea, cursing her through ragged gasps for air. The other man swore at her and yanked her around to face him. He lifted one hand to strike her with brutal and disabling force as he called her terrible names and vowed she would be tortured for her action.
Before the blow landed on her jaw, Leigh ducked her head to deflect it and didn’t see what happened next. The attacker’s wrist was seized and his arm was twisted behind him. Leigh was yanked from his bruising grasp and shoved against the brick wall as she was moved from between her assailant and her rescuer. Dazed and winded, she failed to comprehend the meaning of her sudden freedom and she braced herself for a renewed defense.
A fierce struggle took place between the three men, which she witnessed as her quivering hands shoved her tumbled hair from her line of vision. She noticed that third man was attired as gentleman, and he fought with enormous skill and prowess. Although the odds were two against one, the sailors could not hold their ground against him. He moved with quickness and agility, landing his blows while managing to dodge theirs. Within minutes, her frightened attackers fled for their lives.
Leigh’s chest heaved from her exertions and fear. She wished her champion had beaten her attackers senseless so they could be arrested and punished, but she was glad to be rid of them and to be safe. Leigh swayed against the wall and tried to slow her erratic breathing as she accepted the deliverance from peril. She was not a crier, but tears welled in her eyes and her shoulders trembled with relief and exhaustion. It was over, she told herself.
“You all right, miss?” a deep and mellow voice inquired.
Leigh lifted her head and nodded, unable to speak just yet. Her heart was still pounding. She wished she could sit down, as her legs were weak. Her rounded chin quivered, and she clenched her teeth to halt it. She ordered herself not to burst into sobs. She was safe now, thanks to this handsome man. Yes, her mind concurred, very handsome. He was standing in the middle of the alley where an adoring full moon embraced him with her silvery fingers. He was tall, several inches over six feet. His hair was deep brown and his skin was sun-bronzed. She could not make out his eye color from where she stood, limp and tremulous against the wall. She guessed that the stalwart man was over twenty-five. As her wits cleared and she relaxed, she hurriedly scanned him. He wore tapered fawn trousers, a dark-brown—unbuttoned vest, and an ivory—half buttoned—shirt, but no waistcoat or tie or jabot. His shoes appeared dark brown, and freshly shined from the way the moonlight shone on them. It looked as if he had been dressing when he rushed to aid her. Perhaps her screams had summoned him.
He realized she was still shaken, so he kept his tone gentle. “Didn’t anyone tell you it isn’t safe for a beautiful young woman to be out alone at night, especially in this rough area?”
His head never moved and his eyes never left her face, but she felt as if he was taking in every inch of her like a keen-eyed tracker seeking clues to solve a mystery. She straightened and went forward to stand near him, as if she were a child being drawn to the safety of a parent. In the bright moonlight she made out his features; they were chiseled, well defined. His jaw was strong, but not too square. There was a deep cleft in his chin she found very appealing. His hair was mussed, but looked as if it would be straight and thick when brushed neatly. As if taking a clue from her gaze, he ran his fingers through it like a makeshift comb. There were tiny lines near the corners of his incredibly green eyes that told her he was an out-doorsman, as did his tanned complexion. At closer inspection, his nose was a little large and had a small hump, but it only made him look more rugged and virile.
Her gaze helplessly drifted down his throat as it moved with speech when he repeated his earlier question, to which she still did not respond. As he propped his hands on his hips, the movement drew her attention to them and his waist. He had a marvelous physique. Her gaze traveled upward again. His stance caused his unfastened shirt to gape, revealing dark hair on a hard-muscled chest. This stranger had a curious and unexpected effect on her. Never had reality faded or her wits fled in a man’s presence. She felt … mesmerized—yes, that was the correct word—by him, by the shadows playing over his handsome face, giving him an aura of mystery and potent enchantment. Her eyes returned to his and she took a deep breath, wondering how much time had elapsed while she had examined him like a prized stallion. Her voice, hoarsened from her desperate labors, sounded harsh when she replied, “I wasn’t out alone, sir. I became separated from my family and I didn’t know which way to head. I was seeking help. You don’t need to scold me like a child. It was a foolish accident, but those men had no reason or right to attack me. Even if they did mistake me for a … a prostitute, one shouldn’t be abused.”
She realized her words sounded ridiculous and rude. This generous and stalwart man had endangered himself to rescue her from a precarious predicament. She must appear foolish and reckless to him, and her impulsive story didn’t ring true. She knew that from the reproving scowl on his face. She cleared her throat and explained. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so brusque and ungrateful. I haven’t settled down yet. I didn’t get separated from my family. I was to meet them at a restaurant for dinner, but the carriage driver left me here by mistake. He rode away before I realized my error and could halt him. If you hadn’t arrived …”
The man studied her with keen interest. He liked her courage and belated honesty. He had watched her discover her error, try to solve it, then defend herself against the two rough brutes. She hadn’t burst into tears and he was glad, because he wouldn’t know how to deal with an hysterical woman. But he wouldn’t mind if she melted into his arms for comfort and protection. Even if she had been reckless tonight, she possessed endearing strength. She was exquisite, the rarest flower he had ever seen. Her eyes were a rich and deep blue, and they possessed a sparkle that diamonds would envy. Her hair was as golden as the afternoon sun on a dark river, even if it was falling down from its becoming style. He almost commented on its mussed condition but held silent because he liked its exotic and sultry look, like a lion’s tawny mane blowing in the breeze. She was slender, but very shapely, and she fought well when threatened. This was a vital creature who could enflame a man’s blood and loins; that he knew and felt for certain, especially with her gazing into his eyes.
“I see,” he murmured. “Why did he let you off here?” He noticed the aura of wealth and genteel breeding exuding from her, but there was something strange about this incident. He glanced up the alley, praying she wasn’t a ravishing decoy and this wasn’t a clever ruse to lure him out of hiding. Surely no one knew of his presence.
Leigh noticed his wariness as she admitted, “I told him to take me to number six Stams Street. That’s here, of course, so I must have read the address wrong on the invitation. He should have realized I was mistaken and corrected me, at least waited for me to discover my error. But he raced off as if a pack of starving wolves was after him. I looked for someone to help me, but it’s deserted here and I’m unfamiliar with this area. Then, those sailors tried to …” She inhaled and shuddered as the full reality of her near disaster settled in on her.
“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 as she offered, “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 and fretted. “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, she concluded. 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 what I think 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, she admitted, 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 asked, and came forward to put her cloak around her shoulders. He wiggled her purse onto her wrist.
“Those vile beasts kissed me,” she murmured.
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.”
He shook his head again and refuted. “You’re wrong, Laura. You are an inquisitive child encased in a woman’s ravishing body. I witnessed how smart and skilled and brave you are, but you clearly lack the experience to deal with what could happen between us … What almost did happen. Be content I didn’t seduce you in that alley, or abduct you to a better place for it. Be glad I’m a gentleman; most men aren’t,” he disclosed with a cocky grin.
Even as she denied his claims, she had the sinking feeling he was telling the truth about himself and her. Embarrassed and dismayed, she reasoned, “If I’m so naive and you’re such a gentleman, you shouldn’t have kissed me like that! What did you expect me to do? Stand quiet and still like a statue?”
At his amused chuckles, she blushed. “I only meant … I was going to say …” she stammered before his intense stare and provocative grin. “Oh, you devilish rake! You know what I mean.”
“You definitely mean you enjoy my kisses,” he mirthfully explained for her.
Flustered and.enchanted, she blurted out, “What woman wouldn’t? But you’re being mean and rude. I don’t deserve that. After all, considering what I just endured, my wits aren’t clear yet.”
“Forgive me for teasing you, Laura, but you’re an absolute breath of invigorating air. I suppose I worded my caution wrong. The world can be a jungle and men can be beasts. Be careful of predators like those who attacked you and of cunning ones like me. In fact, if a carriage doesn’t come along soon, I might change my mind about remaining a gentleman and making my appointment.” He smiled, but they both realized he was only half joking. “If your parents are deceased, who were you to meet at that restaurant tonight? Perhaps a sweetheart, fiancé, or husband?”
After her brazen behavior, she couldn’t allow him to think she was wed or even betrothed. “No, Lord Chadwick Hamilton and friends,” she answered, feeling it unnecessary to further explain herself to a quicksilver stranger on a deserted street in a strange city.
The man was wary and intrigued. Her accent was American. If she was traveling with relatives, they should be with her tonight. His instincts warned him there was something strange about this incident. What was she doing in London, and with a notorious seducer like Chad Hamilton? That connection disturbed him. Nor did he need another beautiful and reckless woman getting him into further trouble! “I’m very late,” he said. “Let’s see if we can find you a carriage in a busier place.” He seized her arm in a firm—but painless—grip and led her down the street, through another long and dim alley, to the next street. They saw a carriage dropping someone off not far away.
Her rescuer yelled to the driver and signaled him. over to them. He assisted her into the seat and gave the driver the name and address of her hotel and paid him. He warned Leigh solemnly, “Don’t ever let me catch you in a secluded area like this again. Next time, Sir Lancelot might not be around to save you.”
He vanished into the shadows before she gathered her scattered wits and stolen speech. She was tempted to order the driver to wait for her, to leap from the carriage, pursue the stranger, and question him. She didn’t even know her champion’s name or where he lived. But he disappeared as mysteriously and suddenly as he had appeared.
The carriage was moving; it was too late to learn his identity and location or to make certain she had thanked him properly for saving her chastity and life. A sigh left her lips as she mused, Just wait until tomorrow, Sir Lancelot; you can’t escape me this easily.