Page 7 of When a Lady Desires a Wicked Lord
“If I want to live?” She slipped her hands from his light hold. “I don’t remember you having a flair for the dramatic. Or is that a newly acquired talent?”
His eyes narrowed, the flare of a retort simmering beneath his calm surface. He threw a glance to the intruder he’d left bound and gagged on her Aubusson carpet.
“Do you doubt the threat to your life? This bastard didn’t come here to invite you to tea with the queen.” An emotion she couldn’t quite read flashed in his gaze, contradicting the dry edge to his words.
“How did you know I was in…need of assistance?” Of all the questions swirling through her thoughts, this was the only one she could find the words to voice.
“I was informed you were in danger—an old friend insisted I come after you.”
His voice was low. Husky. And strangely foreign to her ears. Over the years, something had changed in him. Something undefinable. Yet impossible to deny.
He’d gone directly to the oil lamp on her desk. Amazing, how familiar he was with the chamber. Even now. Memories drifted to the surface of her thoughts. Some pleasant. Some devastatingly bitter.
“Who sent you?” she asked.
“Putting the pen to an unconventional use was clever.” A rare note of admiration colored his tone, even as he evaded her question. “Did you learn the tactic from that scoundrel your sister wed?”
“My choice of weapon was entirely improvised. Necessity is the mother of invention, as you well know.” Her attention flickered to the once-pristine implement. The enameled pen was now cast aside, covered in the intruder’s blood. Truth be told, her brother-in-law had made a point of educating the women in his family, and in his employ, on rudimentary methods of self-defense, emphasizing the usefulness of common objects as weapons. As the head of one of the premier investigative services in all of Britain, Matthew Colton knew full well the value of preparedness in the face of a crisis.
“Quite so.” Benedict tapped the edge of the cricket bat he’d placed by the desk. Gaslight glimmered against the sandy tones of the light brown hair that brushed his collar and swept over his brow. “I’ve been on Rooney’s trail since he left Cairo, but when he arrived in London, the cur managed to evade me. Until tonight.”
“How did you know he would come after me?”
“It was a matter of time. I didn’t know where he was hiding, waiting to strike. He ran his mouth tonight in a pub not far from here. An associate alerted me to his presence. I only regret I did not arrive here first.”
“I don’t understand… Why would you pursue this man all the way from Egypt?”
Benedict stood silent, as if he was considering his next words very carefully.
He plowed long fingers through his hair. Peculiar, how familiar and endearing the gesture seemed, even in this unusual circumstance.
“Stockwell set me on his trail—he knew the danger you faced.”
“Professor Stockwell?” The name unleashed a fresh tingle of warning. “Why would he send you…of all people…after me?”
“He was out of options.”
The bluntness of his words rattled her fragile composure. What was the meaning of this?
“I thought… I was told the two of you no longer…collaborated.”
Benedict’s broad shoulders lifted and fell. “That’s one way of putting it. He cut ties with me after the incident in the Valley of the Kings.”
“The incident?” She made a little scoffing sound. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“The professor’s motives were different than mine. We both acknowledged that. He was well aware of my objectives. And my abilities.”
“Be that as it may, he must have been desperate to seek you out.” Speaking the words twisted her stomach into a knot.
“I don’t doubt he was—he understood the threat.” The husky notes of Benedict’s voice were stripped of emotion.
Gently, he cupped a hand to her cheek. Pride demanded she pull away from his touch, but the regret in his eyes stilled her. The feather-light touch of his fingertips felt so right against her skin.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t pull away. “Did he hurt you? Tell me the truth.”
She shook her head. “I was holding him at bay…until you showed up.”
