Reese chuckled at the memory of the hotel manager’s indignation.
As if anyone would confuse the women he’d interviewed with the luscious creatures he saw when he visited the big, gray house on G street in the Tenderloin district on the northwest side of the city during his usual excursions to Washington.
Reese turned away from the window and looked down at his long legs stretched out in front of him. He had narrowed his possibilities down to two women following the day’s interviews, but there was a problem.
Although, they met his carefully adopted criteria to the letter, he wasn’t interested in forming a liaison, however temporary, with either one. He told himself the brunette was too cold and mercenary, the blonde, too warm and available, but the truth was much more basic. Neither of the candidates stirred his blood. Reese hadn’t even considered that possibility until he recognized it.
He hadn’t seen a woman during the entire day that appealed to him on that most basic level until the brief moment his gaze met and locked with her huge smoky-gray ones. She had struck a chord within him; then vanished, leaving Reese deeply unsettled.
He turned back to the window in time to see a man walking a few steps behind a black-skirted figure. As he watched, the man broke into a run and grabbed the woman’s left arm. She stopped suddenly and swung her free arm at his ear. A flash of silver glinted under the street lamp as the thief slit her purse strings and shoved her to the ground.
Reese reacted instantly. Shouting to the driver to stop the carriage, he leaped out the door and raced after the man.
Minutes later, the chase was over. The woman’s assailant melted into the dark of the side streets before Reese was able to catch him. He spent several moments in a futile search of the area before he retraced his steps, hurrying back to the victim.
She sat huddled on the ground, cold, wet, and muddied. She turned as Reese approached and clenched her fists, prepared to defend herself from further attack with the only weapons available.
“It’s all right,” Reese assured her. “I won’t hurt you. Let me help you.” He reached out a gloved hand.
Faith looked up.
Those eyes. Once again Reese was devastated by the look in those haunting, gray, eyes. A rush of tenderness rocked him down to his toes. “You.”
Faith gazed up into the face of her rescuer. She took his offered hand, moving as if in a dream, to the only secure thing she could find.
Reese pulled her to her feet. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” The angry, urgent words spilled from his lips as he ran his gloved hands over her face and down her shoulders and arms anxiously searching for signs of injury.
“He stole my purse.” Faith held her left arm up for inspection. The cords were still looped around her wrist, dangling in the air, holding nothing.
“Your purse? Forget your purse. Did he harm you?” Reese held her wrist toward the glow from the street lamp and pushed back her sleeve. An angry red abrasion encircled the tender flesh around her wrist. “I was afraid he’d cut you.” Before he could stop himself, Reese rubbed his thumb across her injured wrist as if to erase the damage.
Faith inhaled. Her pulse leaped in response to the riotous emotions bursting through her at his touch. She opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. She stood before him without moving, her teeth worrying the line of her full bottom lip, her deep gray eyes staring up at him.
Reese caught himself before he drowned in their depths. He caressed the back of her gloved hand for a bare second before he abruptly dropped her hand and stepped back.
“It’s freezing out here. Let’s get you inside. Can you walk?”
Faith nodded and took a step forward, but her knees seemed to turn to water. She wavered in his grasp.
Cursing beneath his breath, Reese swung her up into his arms.
Faith rested against him. Heat emanated from his flesh and warmed her through the layers of clothing separating them. She was astonished by the warmth. He took a step toward his carriage before she found her voice. “My purse!”
“It’s long gone.”
“But—”
“Forget it. It can be replaced.”
“But my money—”
“Is only money. Not worth risking your life. I couldn’t believe my eyes when you tried to fight him.” Reese struggled for words. “Confound it, woman, the next time someone tries to steal your purse, give it to him. Don’t lift a finger to fight him. You little idiot, he was twice your size and carrying a knife.” Reese’s long legs covered the distance from the sidewalk to the coach.
“But he stole everything.” Faith’s voice was muffled by the fabric of his coat. “He got away with it.”
“And you got away with a scratch and some bruises. It could have been much worse.” Reese paused as his driver opened the door of the coach.
“Is the lady all right, sir?”