Page 49 of A Rogue to Watch Over Me
A smile tugged at Amelia’s mouth. “Mend a rip? Why, I doubt he could’ve threaded a needle.”
“Ye miss him.” Logan’s words sounded low and husky. “I can hear it in yer voice.”
“More than you can imagine. He always knew how to make me laugh.” She stared down at the delicate doll cradled in her palm. “He cared for me. And now his last gift has been torn to bits.”
Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She blinked them away, willing herself to stay strong. Still, a rebellious drop streamed down her cheek, then another.
Gently, Logan brushed them away. He drew the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “We will find the bastard who did this, Amelia. I’ll make it right.”
She gulped against a fresh wave of raw emotion. The past hours had been filled with stunning revelation, with secrets and deceit. Now, she wanted more than anything to believe him.
Lifting her eyes to meet his deep brown gaze, she felt a sudden racing of her pulse. A sudden boldness awakened within her.
Perhaps it was the way he looked at her, his gaze taking her in as if he found her rather fascinating.
Perhaps it was the rush of sensation that had nothing to do with fear.
If she were wise, she would retreat to her warm chamber in his spacious home, curl up with a piping hot cup of tea, and make it through this night without stirring a proper scandal.
Pity she didn’t give a fig about rumors and gossip and what few tatters were left of her good name.
Her eyes lingered over the contours of his cheek, trailing the line of his shadowed jaw. How she longed to draw her fingertips over the path.
If she dared to explore the texture of his skin, would he think her wanton?
Or would he find her touch far too chaste?
Giving in to instinct would be dangerous. She couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. Not even to him. She certainly knew better than to surrender to the temptation gleaming in a rogue’s eyes.
Drawing a calming breath, she folded her fingers against her palm and resisted this newly intense craving for contact. For a long, silent moment, she drank in his carved, masculine features, imagining the caress of his full, seductive mouth.
Heaven knew a woman could find herself lost in his kiss. A woman foolish enough to succumb to temptation, that is.
His mouth curved at the corners, an instinctive awareness darkening his eyes. Had he sensed her renegade thoughts?
For a heartbeat, she thought he’d draw her closer.
Thought he might be so brazen as to kiss her, right there and then, in the midst of the chaos.
But he did take her in his arms.
He held her then. The muscles in his arms were taut with restrained strength. Powerful. Yet so very gentle.
His eyes met her gaze, seeming to search for the answer to an unspoken question. He drew his thumb over the curve of her face. His touch was smooth. Gentle. Nearly reverent.
But he did not kiss her.
Ah, she had to keep her wits about her. She had to keep a level head. Meeting his gaze, she carefully schooled her features. She did not dare to betray her emotions, much less the twinge of disappointment she’d felt when he held back.
A respectable woman would not be disappointed.
A respectable woman would be relieved.
But with each beat of her heart, she wondered more and more if being arespectablewoman was highly overrated.
Suddenly, the bells at the door jangled, tearing her thoughts back to reality. Logan’s hold fell away, and she turned to see Finn Caldwell navigating the cluttered floor, stepping around books and furniture in his path. “Looks like the fortune teller was telling the truth. The bastards are after something all right.”
Logan met his words with a scowl. “Blasted cowards, terrorizing a woman. Believe me, they will regret what they have done. I will see to that.”
