&nbs
p; “I didn’t save you. You mostly saved me.” She snuggled closer.
He had the most ridiculous urge to kiss the top of her head, her cheeks, her eyes. “I believe it was you who fished me out of the water.”
Her father opened a door up ahead and stepped into the room. Jack followed. The room would have made him grin if he wasn’t so worried. Books were stacked on every surface, cozy blankets draped across each of the chairs, a fire crackled in the hearth. Not pausing to ask permission, he strode over to it and dropped to his knees. “That feels so good,” she near moaned, her face turning to the flames.
His body clenched at the sound of her breathy voice. Was he responding to her? Damnation, this wasn’t the time to desire a woman. He gave his head a shake, trying to clear it.
Three maids entered the room and for a moment, he held her closer to his body, savoring the feel of her before she was taken away.
Want to read more? Find Christmastide with my Captain: A Laird to Love http://amzn.to/2CxGMKh
Or you can view the entire A Laird to Love series:
My Enemy, My Earl: A Laird to Love Book 1 http://amzn.to/2F2jY7c
Heart of a Highlander: A Laird to Love Book 2 http://amzn.to/2CxIgnP
A Scot’s Surrender: A Laird to Love Book 3 http://amzn.to/2CIGWSj
My Laird’s Seduction: A Laird to Love Book 4
Earl of Westcliff
The Wicked Earls’ Club
THE BRAYDENS
Meara Platt
Tynan Brayden, the sixth Earl of Westcliff, peered out of the window of his club onto Bedford Place, knowing he had a choice to make – either remove the last of his clothing and join the beautiful viscountess who was already naked in his bed, eager to share a night of pleasure with him – or leave his bedchamber to discover the identity of the young woman draped in moonlight who was standing alone across the street from his club for the third night in a row and find out what she was doing there.
Was there a doubt of his decision?
He eyed the strawberries and cream, the peacock feather, and the black silk ribbons sitting atop his bureau and sighed. “We’ll have to do this another night, Daniella. Something has just come up.” He intended no pun by his remark, nor was the viscountess clever enough to understand the double meaning in his words.
“Is it my husband?” Daniella, Lady Bascom, leaped from his bed and hastily tossed on her elegant silk gown. “He must have returned to London early. Or never left at all. Why, that deceitful liar! He must have hired Bow Street runners to follow me.” She gathered up the undergarments she’d removed moments earlier and fled from his room without giving him so much as a passing glance.
“Have a good evening,” Tynan muttered as she slammed the door behind her. In truth, he was relieved. Their nights, despite the sex games she often enjoyed playing, had grown quite dull and unsatisfying to him. Intimacy, he supposed, required the participating parties to actually feel something for each other. Something more than indifference.
He returned his attention to the young lady who stood alone on the street, no sign of her driver or carriage this evening, which left her easy prey for any passerby who wished to take advantage. Out there, she was vulnerable. A lost rabbit among a pack of wolves.
“Bollocks.” Three of those wolves had just spotted her and were now about to circle her.
He grabbed his boots, quickly stuffing his feet into them, and at the same time glancing around for the shirt he’d removed only moments ago. Daniella, he realized, must have scooped it up along with her undergarments in her mad rush to flee his chamber. There was no time to grab another, for those three not so fine gentlemen were dangerously close to his little rabbit, eyeing her for their next meal. His little rabbit? No, he didn’t know the girl and had no intention of getting involved beyond rescuing her from this scrape.
Tynan knew he had to move fast. By the sidelong glances these men were casting her, and their sudden whispers to each other, they were about to make their move.
He reached for his pistols and hurried downstairs, hoping to make it out of the club and across the street before the girl was harmed. Not that he should care or feel protective of her in any way. Or that he should still nonsensically be thinking of her as his little rabbit. Where was her family? Did no one notice her missing?
There was a chill to the air on this October evening, a hint of upcoming winter. Tynan felt the wind’s cool prickle against his chest the moment he stepped out of his club. “You there... girl.” He didn’t know what to call her. My darling bunny was not at all appropriate. Was she married? A spinster? No, she looked too young to be on the shelf. But not too young to know better than to be traipsing about London alone at night. “Get behind me.”
She frowned at him. “Do I know you, sir?”
“No, nor do I believe you know those three gentlemen who are eyeing you for dessert.” He turned to the three obviously inebriated men and trained his pistols on them. “Take another step toward the girl and it shall be your last.”
“No need for that, m’lord,” said their leader, an arrogant fellow with a cruel smile and an avid gleam in his eyes that revealed his less than honorable intentions toward the girl. He had no business here. Not that this was one of the finer London neighborhoods, but neither was it anywhere near the worst. The townhouses on Bedford Place were neatly maintained and might have been considered elegant if not for their occupants who were mostly mistresses and courtesans who plied their trade to a fashionable clientele. “We’re willin’ to share her with you.”