Scandalously Yours (Hellions of High Street 1)

“We must rise up…no, look up.” Olivia shook her head. “Drat, perhaps that would have been better…”

John was now close behind her. Close enough to see the tiny tendrils of dark auburn hair curling at the nape of her neck.

“Actually, I think you got it right the first time,” he said.

She whirled around, mouth open in a perfect “O” of shock.

“The issue is such an important one that it demands a little drama, don’t you think?” he finished.

Fisting her hands, she fell back a step, her face turning pale as parchment. “W-What in the name of God are you doing here, sir?” Her voice, though barely more than a whisper, be

trayed a tiny tremor of fear beneath her outrage.

Her secret could spell ruin for her family, conceded John. But right now he was thinking only of the moment. “I followed you from Hurley’s shop.”

Her eyes widened, and he was acutely aware of the fierce intelligence alight in the glittering green. At that instant, however, the hottest sparks burned from fear to blazing anger.

Actually, she was more than angry. She was furious.

And come to think of it, so was he. Perhaps the reaction was triggered by primitive male instinct—piqued pride, piqued pego—but John suddenly felt a surge of ire that he had been played for a fool.

“How dare you spy on me, sir!” demanded Olivia, once she had mastered her emotions enough to speak.

He fixed her with a commanding stare, the one that had set many a seasoned soldiers to quaking in their boots. “I would not have had to resort to such tactics if you had shown me the courtesy of answering my letters.”

Olivia refused to be intimidated. Lifting her chin, she scowled back at him. “I did answer them.”

“With a single word—no.”

“And what,” she asked with excruciating politeness, “did you not understand about such a simple syllable?”

John couldn’t help but admire her grit. It took courage and resourcefulness to play in a man’s world. And she played well, he conceded.

Expelling a harried sigh, he felt his anger dissipate just as quickly as it had come. She had no choice but to guard her secret very carefully. “Look, at least hear me out, Miss Sloane. Tracking down The Beacon has led me on a merry dance throughout Town.”

Olivia paled at the mention of the nom de plume. Turning abruptly, she plunged off the path and darted around a tangle of holly.

“Wait!” John ducked under the prickly branches, losing his hat in the process.

“Go away!” Her voice was muffled by the overhanging leaves.

“Not until we talk!”

“I’ve nothing to say to you.”

The Devil take it. All but a last little flutter of her skirts disappeared behind a shaggy yew hedge. Swearing under his breath, John cut through a patch of lavender. He hadn’t come this far to be rebuffed. She would damn well listen. Or else…

Several long strides brought him within arm’s reach of her. “Confound it, Miss Sloane, stop and listen,” he called, lunging for her sleeve.

As his fingers seized the fabric, his boot snagged on a twist of morning glory. Pitched off-balance, he stumbled and fell, taking her with him. Tangled together, they hit the ground hard, their momentum rolling them into a patch of pachysandra.

“Ooof!” Olivia’s flailing kick caught him square in the shin.

Flat on his back, John got a momentary glimpse of Olivia’s irrepressible curls dancing in the breeze before another half turn landed him on his stomach. Burning with embarrassment, he tried to right himself, only to find that she was sprawled across his…posterior.

Bloody hell, he had never felt like a bigger arse in all his life.

They both started wriggling at the same time. He managed to twist face-up just as she slipped on the glossy leaves and fell back down atop him.