Page 66 of When a Lady Dares
An instinctive awareness alerted her she was no longer alone. She turned slowly, affecting a look of nonchalance even though her reaction to Gavin Stanwyck’s presence was far from casual. Her pulse raced as her senses drank him in. What was it about the man that made her feel so very alive?
He stood in the doorway, clad in trousers and white linen shirtsleeves without benefit of a waistcoat or jacket, regarding her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. Was that surprise in his eyes after discovering her in what was no doubt his private sanctuary? Or did a deeper, more powerful emotion darken his indigo eyes to the color of the North Sea at dusk?
His hair had been neatly combed, and a hint of bergamot lingered on his skin from his bath. Dark stubble covered his jaw, accenting his strong cheekbones and chin. Just as she’d longed to touch that ancient vessel, she curled her fingers against the urge to make contact, to experience the texture of his coarse new beard against her skin.
He broke the silence. “I owe you a debt, Sophie.”
His husky rasp kindled a flame deep within, one she’d desperately tried to extinguish. A sudden rush of emotion scalded her throat. He’d nearly died last night. She’d turned from him in that blasted graveyard and walked away, never dreaming that might’ve been the last time she’d lay eyes on him. How her heart would have shattered if she’d followed orders and locked herself away, only to learn he’d suffered a brutal fate.
She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Good heavens, she was a trained operative.You are better than this, Sophie. Tamp down your nerves.
“I believe this makes us even.” Amazing, how steady she held her voice, how rational the words.
His eyes narrowed as he casually leaned a shoulder against the casing and slipped his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps.”
“You are looking remarkably well given the ordeal you endured.”
“Avery received the worst of it, I’m afraid.”
Sophie nodded. “Those curs inflicted a vicious blow,” she said. “Thankfully, the physician is confident a few days of rest will lead to a full recovery. How are you getting on? Are you suffering any aftereffects?”
“Very little. The physician shares my certainty that I was drugged. Fortunately, the chemical I ingested seems to have only a minimal impact on my faculties this morning.”
A twinge of apprehension rippled through her. “How much do you remember?”
He frowned, seeming to mull the question. “It’s the damnedest thing, really. I can picture the dartboard in my mind, the barb as it pierced the target. But I cannot visualize the bastard who connived to gain access to my drink. I cannot hear his voice in my memory. He’d spoken his name, but I cannot recall any trace of it. It’s as though my memory has been wiped clean of those minutes immediately before I took the drug into my system.”
“And the rest of the evening? Do you recall any of what happened after you ingested the substance?”
He nodded. “It seems a blur, but yes, I know what occurred. I can see it in my mind’s eye.” He tilted his head, seeming to regard her as though she were someone quite new to him. “I was a fool to underestimate you. You didn’t need me to come to the rescue that night, did you?”
“Actually, your assistance proved extremely helpful. I was in a bit of a fix. Two against one is always a challenge.”
“Somehow, I don’t think the challenge would’ve proven insurmountable.” He kneaded his jaw, as if it had gone suddenly stiff. “Is there something you haven’t told me—something that would explain what I saw last night?”
His question was not entirely unexpected. After all, it is not every day that a man experiences a woman charging to the rescue—hisrescue, no less. And she imagined it was all the more uncommon for that woman to be in the company of a craggy-faced carriage driver whose skill with a firearm rivaled the Queen’s guards, an elderly man who had disarmed one man and sent the other scurrying for safety like an oversized, two-legged species of vermin.
She plastered on a bland expression. “I carry a pistol, and I know how to use it. Is that so unusual?”
“Not in itself.” Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him. “This requires a bit of privacy. While I trust Farnsworth and Mrs. Edson with my life, I feel this is a matter for our ears only.”
Her stomach did a little flip. “I understand.”
He came to her, standing within arm’s reach. He smelled of soap and clean, healthy male, too blasted appealing for her own good. Her nerves came alive, as if anticipating his touch. Could he sense how her heart raced? If only he didn’t look at her like that, with that faint, stormy glint of accusation in his eyes.
“You are a riddle, Sophie.” His words were low and gravel-edged, filled with unmistakable heat. “You’ve cast your lot in with a charlatan—a man you scarcely tolerate, even to his face. If you were intent on fleecing unsuspecting fools to enrich yourself, you’d bat your eyes and wiggle those luscious hips of yours and make a play for a wealthy man, but you’ve done nothing of the sort. You carry a gun in your velvet bag—a weapon you appear quite confident in your ability to use—while riding about the city in the dead of night, charging to the rescue of arrogant cads like me. Who are you? And what is it about you that drives a logical man to the brink of reason?”
“I have studied the art of self-defense. As a modern woman, it seems rather prudent to be able to guard one’s own well-being, wouldn’t you agree?”If only I could keep my voice steady.
He took a step closer. “Guarding one’s well-being? Is that how you explain your carriage driver? The man’s gun might’ve brought down Goliath himself. The bloke’s seventy, if he’s a day, yet he aimed with such precision, he took off the bastard’s thumb.”
She smiled. After all, there was no need to disguise her pride at Bertram’s skill. “A lucky shot.”
His brows hiked. “I am not a fool. What is it you’ve involved yourself with? Or should I ask, whom?”
She lifted her shoulders in a little shrug. Pity she needed to maintain the charade she’d affected. The deception wore on her, but he could not learn the truth. She would warn him of the potential danger he still faced, but he must not discover how she’d come across that intelligence.
“You know my occupation—for the time being, at least.” She stumbled over the words. Blast it, the lies did not flow as smoothly now. “If you’re looking for some mysterious motive, aside from earning a bit of coin, I am sorry to disappoint you.”
