Luke studied the yard but couldn’t see her. It was like seeing a ghost; one minute she was there and the next, gone in an instant. If he hadn’t locked gazes with her and read that age-old cynicism in the hardness then he would never have given her a second glance. However, the way she had been staring at Poppy’s bag rang alarm bells within him that prodded him to get to the bottom of what was going on, preferably before Poppy got hurt.
“Do you know her?” He demanded when he noticed that Poppy was trying to sidle around him to escape.
Poppy stared up at the handsome face that had haunted her since their last meeting and struggled to catch her breath when pinned beneath that steady regard. She had hoped never to see him again, but then had disconcertingly found herself looking for him on the streets anyway. The last thing she expected was to find him here, in the coaching inn, on the day she was leaving London for good.
A tendril of suspicion began to filter through her worry and she considered him a little more cautiously.
“Pardon?” she murmured when she realised he was waiting for her to speak.
“The woman; do you know her?”
“Woman?” Poppy repeated dully. She closed her eyes on a prayer as the last few moments replayed in her mind in a horrifying rush. She had been pushed, she was certain of it. “She pushed me,” she whispered, aware of the two spots on her back that ached more than they should.
“Are you sure she pushed you and you didn’t slip?”
“I didn’t slip,” she glanced down at the ground. It was strewn with straw but there was nothing to trip or slip on apart from a few puddles, and she hadn’t been anywhere near them when she had fallen. “She pushed me.”
“Why? Do you know her? Have you seen her before?” He sighed when Poppy suddenly looked as though she was about to start to cry. She was already shaking her head, but seemed almost dazed.
Poppy was indeed reeling now that the true nature of the incident had started to sink in. That woman, whoever she was, could have killed her. If it wasn’t for Luke’s quick thinking and speedy reaction she would have been run over by one of the carriages. It was on the tip of her tongue to thank him, but something made her hesitate. She wasn’t sure why, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, her suspicion over why he was there built in the back of her mind. She looked at him and was only vaguely aware of his questions because her mind was busy trying to work out how he could be even more handsome than he had been in the park the other day. The smog made him look dark and dangerous. It swirled around him hauntingly and gave him a dreamlike quality that created a flurry of awareness within her she had never felt before. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it.
He wondered if she had hit her head when she had fallen and grabbed her shoulders, partly to stop her from sidling away and partly to make her look up at him. When she did eventually look into his eyes the smog seemed to envelope them, cocooning them in solitude that protected them from prying eyes. It encased them in a haze of desire he just couldn’t ignore anymore. Before sense could apply logic, he leaned toward her.
Poppy gasped when his lips touched hers. She instinctively recoiled but couldn’t go far because of the hold he had on her. Neither his kiss nor hold were harsh or threatening, just firm, but firm enough to warn her that she was going nowhere until he allowed her to. Not that she had anywhere she wanted to go right now. Rooted to the spot, she clutched her bags tighter and sighed when his lips slid softly and gently over hers. The hand that came up to cup her face was warm and gentle and feathered across her face so lightly that it elicited a shiver that came from deep within her soul. Before she could stop herself, she leaned against his strength.
How long they stood locked in a passionate embrace for he would never know. Time slowed until it came to a complete standstill as he savoured the feel of the woman in his arms. He was fairly certain they could have remained there forevermore and probably would have done if circumstances hadn’t worked against them. In spite of the fog, a stable hand caught sight of them and threw them a wolf whistle that was loud enough to wake the dead, and elicited the titters of several milling patrons. Reluctantly, Luke lifted his head to look down at the stunned disbelief in Poppy’s eyes. He wa
s unsure whether he should be pleased or quietly horrified by what had just happened.
That whistle was like a bucket of iced water over Poppy. Thankfully it was too murky outside for anybody to see much, but that didn’t prevent a fierce blush from staining her cheeks as a wave of mortification chased away the desire that had stolen her senses. She gave a start of surprise when she realised just how risqué their embrace must look to others and immediately took a hesitant step back to put a bit more of a decorous distance between them.
“Mr – er –” She tried desperately to remember his name. His first name was Luke, but it would be terribly presumptuous of her to use it without his prompting. Aware that they were drawing attention, she tried to side-step around him only to find that he still blocked her path to the tavern doorway. If only she could get him to move a little she could get inside before her trembling knees refused to hold her up anymore. They shook with alarming ferocity; to the point that she was fairly certain that if she didn’t sit down she would fall down – again, and as far as she was concerned she had done enough of that already.
“Luke,” he drawled, trying and failing to tear his gaze away from the beauty before him. He had tried to reassure himself that the attraction he felt toward her was nothing more than mere carnal interest he would ordinarily feel toward any other beautiful woman who attracted him. Now that he had seen her again though he knew he was only fooling himself. She drew emotions from deep within him that he had never even realised were there. Protectiveness; curiosity; attraction were all there, along with something else, something more acutely disturbing. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all, especially toward someone who was surrounded by so much mystery.
“Excuse me,” she whispered. “I need go inside.”
Please move before I fall at your feet, she added silently. She tried desperately not to fidget beneath that steady regard, but the longer she stood there the more her heart began to pound, to the point that she just had to do something to break the frisson of awareness that came out of nowhere and refused to leave. The atmosphere between them gradually became so thick that she was certain it could have been cut with a knife. It bothered her, mostly because it wasn’t dark and sinister like she had expected. It was something softer, more defined, and considerably rawer than anything she had ever felt before. For the first time in her life she wanted to touch him, a man she barely knew, to see if he really was as strong and powerful as he looked beneath the thick layers of clothing he wore. She clenched her fingers against the need and clutched her bag tightly instead while she forced her attention to more mundane and practical matters. Like how on earth she was going to get out on shaking legs without making an utter fool of herself.
“We need to talk,” Luke said firmly, now more determined than ever to find out just how much trouble she was in. He had never met anyone who had such a capacity to attract trouble as her and was determined to get some of his questions answered.
Before she could escape out of the gates she kept looking longingly at he took her elbow in a gentle but firm hold and began to tug her toward the tavern door. He glanced down at the bags she still clutched and wondered if he should just snatch one off her. He was positive she would just follow it. Unfortunately, he was aware that the kiss had drawn the interested gazes of several of the stable hands how. He wouldn’t get away with appearing as though he was trying to seduce her one minute and mug her the next. The last thing he wanted was to wind up in a brawl with several stable hands.
“Inside,” he murmured without preamble. When she didn’t follow his orders, he began to march her unceremoniously toward the doorway.
Startled at the bolt of awareness that shot up her arm and settled somewhere in the centre of her chest, Poppy stumbled two steps forward and then slammed to a stop, twisting her arm around in an attempt to get him to loosen his hold.
It is alright, you are in the middle of the coaching yard. What harm can he do? a small voice assured her. Unnerve you, that’s what, she added with a sigh. And he is doing a darned good job of it too.
“I don’t believe we have anything to discuss,” she protested. She wished she had a hand free so she could prise his grip off her elbow. It wasn’t painful, but it was strong.
“Oh, I think we do. There is the small matter of the body you abandoned in the park for one, and the contents of that bag for another.”
“The contents of my bags are nothing to do with you,” she argued with a scowl.
Luke snorted and scowled straight back. “I am afraid they are. Especially since you appear so protective of them, and had them at the park, and someone is prepared to kill you for them.”
“I don’t believe I am obliged to do anything you order me to do,” she retorted while trying, and failing, to remove his hold on her arm. “Let go of me.”