“Allow me, sir,” he murmured before grasping a startled Janet around her waist and tossing her over his shoulder.
“Why, ye devil.” The maid smacked Boris in the middle of the back with her clenched fists. “I’ll have ye gelded. I’ll have your throat slit and yer body dumped in the stews.”
“Thank you, Boris,” Edmond murmured, chuckling as the large servant headed down the hallway with a struggling Janet.
The threats were abruptly muffled as Edmond closed the door and moved to settle on the edge of her bed. Nestled on the mattress, Brianna shivered despite the blankets that had been piled on her while she slept. Even with his magnificent eyes shadowed with exhaustion and his jaw darkened with a hint of his morning beard, Edmond still managed to flood the room with his raw, restless power.
And to send a disturbing shock of pleasure through her.
Instinctively, she attempted to shift from his looming body, only to be halted as Edmond stretched out beside her and tenderly bundled her into his arms.
Brianna stiffened, watching him with a wary expression as she realized that they were very much alone in her bedchamber, and that he was stripped down to his linen shirt and tight breeches, while she was wearing nothing more than a thin chemise.
“Edmond?”
“Shh. Do not move, ma souris,” he murmured, his lips stroking close to the wound on her temple.
“What is Boris going to do to Janet?” she demanded.
“I think we should be much more concerned for Boris’s welfare,” he drawled. “Where the devil did you find that terrifying gorgon?”
She knew she should battle her way from his arms. Even with the thick blankets and his rumpled evening attire
between them, she could feel his tantalizing heat beginning to seep into her chilled body. But at the moment, she was too tired to fight the inevitable. And besides, it felt so wonderful to snuggle against him and to rest her head in the shallow dip beneath his shoulder. There was a fierce, relentless strength about him that banished the strange sense of unreality that plagued her.
“She is very protective.”
“So I have discovered.” His lips brushed down the curve of her cheek, his touch one of comfort rather than seduction. “Tonight, however, she has no need to stand guard. I am here to keep you safe.”
“I believe she is convinced that having you here to keep me safe is rather akin to having the fox guarding the chickens,” Brianna said dryly.
Edmond shifted so that he could frown down at her pale, pain-drawn expression.
“I do not mind being likened to a fox, but I will be damned to be thought a monster. I do not force myself on wounded females.”
Wounded.
Yes. That would explain the fiery ache at her temple. She lifted a hand to discover that a plaster had been placed over her injury.
“What happened?”
“You do not recall?”
She started to frown, only to wince in pain. “I remember stepping onto the balcony and a loud explosion. I think something must have hit my head.”
The hard, bronzed features were unreadable. “You were shot, Brianna.”
“Shot?” She froze in pure shock, her fingers still pressed to her temple. “A bullet did this?”
“Yes.”
“Good heavens,” she breathed. “Who would shoot me?”
“Who can say?”
“You,” she said, glaring into his guarded expression.
“What?”