What You Desire (Anything for Love 1)

“The need to protect you outweighed all reasonable thought,” he said softly.

She sighed. “I know.”

“So, besides the fact Haines holds me in such high esteem, what else has he done to be worthy of your estimation?”

“I’m afraid when it comes to women, Haines is hopelessly heroic not to mention gallant.”

Dane laughed. “Please tell me you are joking.”

“I am not. Did he not tell you what happened at the coaching inn when we stopped to collect supper?”

His expression grew dark and he frowned. “No, he did not.”

Sophie noticed the way the muscles in his jaw stiffened. “Oh, don’t be angry with him,” she said, placing her hand on his sleeve again. “You see, he would not leave me alone for fear I would abscond and so sent Amy into the inn. Minutes ticked by before we heard the commotion, the raucous laughter, and loud jeering. Then we heard a woman scream.”

Dane turned away, his hands clenched by his sides as he muttered a profanity. “You’re going to tell me it was Amy.” He swung back around to face her, his eyes filled with dread.

Sophie pursed her lips and nodded. “There’d been a boxing match in a field on the outskirts of town and a group of gentlemen had congregated in the courtyard. They were drinking and ...”

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“I suppose it was meant to be a little harmless fun,” she continued, in an attempt to make it all sound less dramatic. “Without saying a word, Haines barged past them all, scooped Amy up in his arms and carried her back to the carriage.”

“And you believe that is gallant and heroic?” His countenance suddenly appeared much improved and the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“Of course,” she smiled.

Dane folded his arms across his chest. “Pray tell how it is any different to me scooping you up and placing you in the carriage?”

“It is entirely different. Amy was in danger of being ravished.”

“As were you,” he added with a wicked grin. “You were in danger of being thoroughly ravished by a reckless rogue.”

Sophie swallowed. There was no mistaking the deep husky tone to his voice. How did he manage to make it sound so appealing?

“But you did not hear me scream,” Sophie countered.

“No,” he admitted. He took a step closer and whispered, “But I would like to rouse a whimper from those soft lips.”

He was certainly skilled in the art of seduction, for she was suddenly consumed with the thought of touching him, of kissing him, of running her hands over his bare chest.

The sound of drunken laughter further down the street caught their attention and he grasped her arm. “It is not wise to converse on the doorstep,” he whispered. “Perhaps we may continue our conversation later,” he arched a brow, “over dessert.”

Thank goodness he was holding her arm; her legs had almost buckled at his suggestive tone.

“Whatever happens in here,” he continued, “whatever you see or hear, try your best not to look shocked. I shall introduce you as a young cousin. It will explain your remarkably clear complexion.” A frown marred his brow. “Are you certain you want to do this?”

She gave his arm a reassuring pat. “I have an independent mind and a passionate spirit. What more do I need?”

“I have a feeling your independent mind may be put to the test,” he said stepping up to the green door. He ignored the brass knocker and rapped gently three times.

The door opened and they were greeted by the butler.

A butler!

Sophie examined his powdered wig, white stockings and black buckled shoes — a butler in a brothel! She was forced to hide her surprise and they hadn’t even crossed the threshold.

“The Marquess of Danesfield and Mr. Bertram Shandy,” Dane announced.