Page 55 of From Duke Till Dawn
“The two handsome blokes with you at the gaming hell?”
He seemed to bristle at her use ofhandsometo describe his companions. “I have a memory of one of them showing me the token with the mask, yet I can’t recall specifics.”
“When will you see your friends?”
“Tonight. I can’t let the sun rise again without having a bead on Hughes.”
“Do you hunt foxes with such determination?”
He was silent, then, “I don’t hunt. No honor in killing vulnerable creatures.”
It made sense that he’d refuse hurting something that had no means of protecting itself.
“I thought all aristos hunt,” she said.
He gave her his half smile, the one that made her heart somersault. “You’re going to have to learn that usaristosaren’t all the same.”
“I’m realizing it.” They’d been one thing to her before: targets. Not people with individual hopes and wishes and vulnerabilities. Oh, she knew they had weak spots, but those soft areas had been perfect for exploiting for her own benefit. Now she realized the gentry were all too human. And she’d willingly hurt them.
To survive, she reminded herself.
Her choices had been made. The past remained unchangeable. She could wish, but couldn’t turn back the clock and become someone else. Someone good and honorable. All that was left was moving forward, and taking responsibility for her choices now.
She and Alex fell into silence, ripe with things unspoken. He’d apologized to her—something she had never expected to hear from him. The air between them was thick with a new understanding.
But the long day and the swaying of the carriage took their toll, and soon she found her head snapping up. She’d nodded off.
“Here.” Alex edged over. He patted the seat beside him. “You can put your head on my shoulder.”
“I’m fine,” she said automatically.
“I’ve tried sleeping in here.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, one that brooked no argument. “The carriage is expensive but it makes a poor bed. You’ll rest easier with someplace to put your head.”
She hesitated. Weariness swamped her, dragging her eyelids down and demanding she rest.
He sighed, exasperated. “As you like. I’ll come over there so you can continue to face forward.”
Before she could argue, he maneuvered his body across the space between the seats, then lowered beside her. She had just enough time to scoot over before being crushed by his bulk.
The carriage became much smaller with him sitting next to her. The side of his solid, warm body pressed against hers, making her feel little and delicate.
He shifted, and she sensed the movement of his muscles beneath his clothing. His scent wove closely around them, hot and masculine and intimate.
Alex glanced at his shoulder. “Go on then. Make a pillow for yourself.”
Gingerly, she pressed her fingertips to his firm shoulder. “Like sleeping on boulders,” she muttered.
He shot her a dry look. “You’re determined to refuse my consideration.”
Which would make her the most ungrateful—and stupid—woman in England. After untying the ribbons of her bonnet and setting the hat down on the opposite cushion, she carefully tilted her neck until her head rested on the round cap of his shoulder. It wasn’t a perfect resting place. He was tight with muscle and there wasn’t much padding in his coat. But it was comforting, just the same.
“I’ve never done this before,” she admitted.
“Can’t say I have much experience with it, myself,” he confessed.
“It’s... nice,” she allowed.
“Good,” he said gruffly. “Now be quiet. And sleep.”
