Page 2 of When Dashing Met Danger

“If you don’t cease this instant, Reginald, I’ll—”

Her partner chuckled. “You’ll what?” He pushed through the hedge and grasped her elbow for support. With clumsy movements, his mouth fell on hers. She shoved him away but was prevented from escape when her gown caught on the protruding branches of the hedge.

“Stop teasing me.” The man’s words were slurred, and he almost knocked her over as he backed her toward the bench Alex had just vacated. All trace of charm was gone from his tone. In the shadows, Alex tensed.

The woman twisted, fighting to escape the drunken man’s hold. “Reginald, I said st—”

His lips savaged her neck, cutting her off. Alex took two steps forward but paused when the woman cried, “Get off me this instant!” She pushed Reginald back, and he flailed for an instant before grasping the back of her neck. His other hand snaked out and groped her breast. Alex heard her hand crack against the man’s cheek.

Reginald’s head jerked. “Lucia, stop acting so prudish,” he slurred. “No one can see us.”

Alex had grasped two handfuls of the bushes concealing him, prepared to intercede, when an alarm rang in his head.

Lucia.

Where had he heard that name before? It wasn’t a common name among ladies of the ton, and the Italian pronunciation the man had given it tickled Alex’s memory. “Bloody hell,” he said under his breath. “Not her.” Just his luck to run into Lucia when he was trying to save the bloody country.

“This isn’t proper, my lord,” Lucia was saying. “And if you weren’t so drunk, you’d realize that. Now let me go before I scream.”

Reginald chuckled. “You won’t scream.” He dragged his hand roughly through her hair, loosening it so it fell in heavy, silver-streaked waves to her waist. Lucia flinched.

“You don’t want to upset your father. He likes me.”

“Well, I don’t.” Alex’s voice was low and menacing as he strode from the murky dark of the foliage into full view of the bastard still gripping Lucia.

“Unless you want your teeth knocked to the back of your throat, release the lady and walk away.”

Lucia jumped and whipped her head in Alex’s direction. He fixed his glare on her partner.

“I don’t know who you are”—Reginald pointed a chubby finger at him—“but I’ll have you know this lady is my fiancée. Go find your own.” He gave Lucia a sloppy smile, and she took advantage of the moment to scoot out of his reach.

Alex smiled. He’d been in a foul mood all evening and would relish plowing his fist into the man’s soft, pudgy middle. A good fight was just what he needed right now.

“Your fiancée?” He shot Lucia an incredulous look. “Unfortunately, the lady and I have a more intimate connection. I’m her brother-in-law.” Or close enough, he amended.

Lucia’s eyes grew into dark moons as she studied him, and when Reginald glanced at her for confirmation, she gave a distracted nod.

“Lord S-S-Selbourne. At last we meet.” Reginald staggered back. “Perhaps not on the best of terms, but nevertheless, I’m pl-pl-pleased to make your acquaintance.” He stumbled over a graceless bow, eyes wide with alarm.

Alex’s gaze returned to Lucia’s and held. Her eyes were still wide and unreadable.

“Your name, sir?” Alex’s attention never left Lucia. “Ah—”

“Viscount Dandridge,” Lucia supplied, as her fiancé seemed to have forgotten. Alex nodded, effectively dismissing the man from his thoughts. He wouldn’t waste his time with the whey-faced coward. But Lucia . . .

She was nothing like the girl he remembered from his brother ’s wedding five years before. She’d been—what? Fourteen? Fifteen? Her eyes were the same. Azure blue, if memory served. But when had she acquired that creamy skin, those lush lips, those curves?

And her hair—glorious curls cascading down her back. Hair a man could wrap thickly around his hands. Hair that could brush against skin, teasing it and—

“Selbourne,” she said, “I can’t begin to express how I feel at seeing you again.”

Shutting out the tempting image, Alex tried to focus on her words.

“Unfortunately, Lord Dandridge had a little too much to drink tonight.” With complete composure, she pushed an errant curl from her cheek. “I thought the air might help.”

“I see.” He continued to pierce her with his gaze. She broke eye contact first, and he saw a flicker of something—anger? resentment?—in her eyes before she shot Reginald an exasperated look. Though Alex doubted the coward had enough backbone to argue with him, he spoke first.

“Dandridge,” he said before the man was foolish enough to try and intervene. “You may go. I’ll take my”—he glanced at Lucia—“sister home.”

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