Page 43 of A Rogue to Watch Over Me
Subtle notes of bergamot on his skin stirred her senses. The heady aroma conjured a longing deep within.
With a smile that would tempt an angel to sin, Logan met her gaze, offering a moment for her to slip away from his embrace. Allowing her one last chance to guard her heart.
Pity her craving for his caress was far more powerful than her desire to protect her heart. Unwilling to deny herself this delicious pleasure, she coiled her arms around his neck. With a whisper, she invited the intimacy of his touch.
He dipped his head low to taste her lips. Slowly, at first. Teasing her. Tempting her beyond all reason.
Until she lost herself in delicious sensation.
Passion surged, nearly a tangible thing. Losing herself in a whirlpool of feeling, she closed her eyes. His long fingers splayed against her corseted ribs, and he held his muscles taut, his strength restrained.
Logan wanted more. In her heart, she knew that undeniable truth. Yet he took nothing she did not offer.
She sighed against his full, utterly delectable mouth.
Suddenly, a crash of glass against the floor tore Amelia from her bliss.
Logan’s head jerked up. In unison, they turned to the source of the noise.
A crystal goblet lay shattered beside the carpet. Near the mess, Heathy sat not quite peacefully, guilt clear upon his canine features.
Her suspicions confirmed, Amelia rushed to the sideboard and scooped the dog into her arms. Frowning, Logan surveyed the scene.
Oh, you’ve done it now, Heathy. You’ll be banished to your travel case. No more running about for the likes of you.
Logan’s forehead furrowed. He leaned down and reached for one of Heathy’s paws. Tiny lines crinkled around his eyes as he examined each paw in turn.
How very fascinating.Was kindness another weapon in his rogue’s arsenal?
How very unfair of Logan MacLain to take her by surprise and further erode her defenses.
“The wee beast avoided injury.” Taking a step back, Logan looked down upon the scattered shards. “I cannot say the same for the glass.”
“Heathy must’ve fiddled with his leash and jarred the sideboard. I’m quite sorry—”
“Do not worry yer head, lass.” He tapped a finger to the decanter, a faint grin pulling at his lips. “Now if the pup had ruined my whisky, that would be another matter entirely.”
Amelia glanced down at the unusually quiet dog in her arms. Pity Heathy had not been so well-behaved moments earlier. She would still be savoring Mr. MacLain’s kiss.
“I’ll find something to clean it,” she said.
He shook his head. “Do not trouble yerself. I’ll have Murray send up one of the barmaids to take care of the mess.”
“Thank you.” She swallowed against a sudden, nervous lump in her throat. “In that case, I suppose Heathy and I should be on our way. Miss Tanner is expecting me at midnight.”
“If ye are intent on this meeting, ye know I will be at yer side.”
“If you insist,” she said. It went without saying that his presence would give an attacker pause.
“As for the dog, Mrs. Langford can take him with her when she returns home.”
Amelia nodded her agreement, even as a vein in her temple throbbed. “I’m afraid I should not have agreed to have you accompany me. You see, Miss Tanner instructed me to come alone.”
“I don’t give a damn what the woman told ye.” Logan’s tone made it clear he would not be swayed. “Ye’ll not be walking into a trap. Not while I am watching over ye.”
Chapter Thirteen
With Logan byher side, Amelia made her way along fog-draped streets to a rough-hewn workman’s tavern. A gas lamp on the corner cast hazy light over the pub’s massive door. Instinctively, Amelia lifted a hand to cover her face as a fetid stench wafted from the gutter beside the stone and brick building. Good heavens, the place was dismal, far worse than she’d imagined. What measure of desperation had driven Helen Tanner, a woman who had displayed a taste for elegance and expensive surroundings, to take refuge in this putrid place?
