“Bad,” she gave another strangled cry. “They’re coming for me. Please!”
“Grace,” he said more sharply, giving her a shake. “Wake up.”
She gasped out a breath and sat partially up. “Bad?” But this time his name was different, rather than a whimper it was a wary question.
“I’m here,” he said, holding out his arm to her. “I’m right here. I never left.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she cried as she flopped back onto the bed and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I thought I was alone with them again.”
He wrapped her in his arms, his nose and cheek pressed into that glorious mane of hair. “I’m not going to leave you. I promise.”
“Please,” she whimpered against his skin. “Stay with me.”
He breathed in her scent, even more potent from sleep. It occurred to him that he’d never shared a bed to actually slumber with a woman before. Notable since he’d bedded all the rest of them, making Grace different in every way. “Haven’t you learned yet that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Even if that means chasing you halfway across England?”
She gave a hiccupping laugh then. The sort that made her entire body shudder. The covers dulled her curves but he could still feel them. “I’m very lucky,” she whispered. “To have a man named Bad as my rescuer.”
Her chin tilted up as her head tipped back. He leaned down to tell her thank you but before he could utter the words, her lips fumbled into his. It wasn’t the most artful kiss he’d ever experienced but raw passion crashed into him like a wave and he leaned down to take her lips again and then again, each touch only fueling the fire within.
She opened to him like a flower, her lips meeting his, wet and eager, her neck exposed as he trailed his fingers down the slender column. When she moaned, he nearly came undone. “Love,” he said, his voice sticking in his throat making it rough and craggy.
She wound her arms about his neck, pushing her breasts further into his chest. Dear lord, help him, this woman was made for a man’s attention. Every curve screamed to be touched. “Yes?” she asked. “What do you need from me?”
His eyes rolled back in his head. He needed her underneath him. He needed to tuck her away where no man could touch her ever. But she’d overcome her fear and even he realized she was clinging to him because she’d been so afraid, nothing more. “I need you to go back to sleep.”
“What?” she asked, pulling back a bit.
“Grace.” Every word hurt. “We’ll discuss this in the morning. Right now, you should sleep.”
“You’re joking,” she huffed, pulling her arms from his neck and propping up on one elbow.
He wasn’t. But he’d managed to irritate her again. “Your very first time with a man won’t be because you’ve had a bad dream. It will be because you’re in love or because you’ve decided to marry. Trust me. It’s better this way.”
She stared at him in the dark for several seconds before she finally laid her head back on the pillow. “Sometimes I hate you.”
He winced. He believed her.
Chapter Six
Grace woke to a dim light filtering into the room. A feeling of contentment filled her as she cracked one of her eyes open. Her body was encased in warmth despite the coolness of the air about her. She moved, stretching her toes only to realize that she was pressed against a solid wall.
But it couldn’t be a wall because it formed around her body and it was both hard and yet deliciously hot. A flood of memories filtered through her mind. Abernath, the tiny inn, the fact that Bad had rescued her and then rejected her advances last night.
Heat filled her cheeks. His name was Bad, for pity’s sake. The very first time she’d met him, now over a month ago, he and his friends had been waiting for women of the evening to arrive. He ran and owned a gaming hell. She wasn’t even tempting enough to seduce a man who’d made debauchery his entire life.
She nibbled at her lip. Of course, he didn’t want her. Other than being pretty, there was nothing special about her.
“Good morning,” Bad’s deep voice rumbled behind her and he tightened the arm about her midriff, pulling her closer. Well, that wasn’t really possible, he squished her even more to his front.
“Good morning,” she replied, giving a sniff at the end.
He stilled. “You’re still angry with me.”
“I’m not angry,” she said staring straight ahead. “This is a completely normal and understandable interaction between a lady and a lord.”
He smiled. She felt it against the back of her head where his nose was nuzzled into her hair. “I’m still not used to being called a lord.”
“What?” she asked, turning back to him then. What did that mean? But she didn’t ask the rest of the question because she’d only just realized she was using his right arm as a pillow. His arm curled around her head brushing a few stray hairs away.