Page 85 of A Rogue to Watch Over Me
As the clockin Logan’s study chimed the midnight hour, the sound of boot heels in the corridor drifted to Amelia’s ears. Had he returned from the Rogue’s Lair? Or had Caldwell arrived with news? Tension washed over her like an icy wave. Given the nature of Logan’s establishment, he’d spent many a late night at the tavern. But these were not ordinary times. His commitment to watch over her had brought danger to his door. She couldn’t rest until she knew he’d returned.
Marking her place in the novel with a scrap of velvet ribbon, she set the book on the marble-top table and went to see whose footsteps she had heard.
Logan was reaching for the knob as she opened the door. His gaze locked with hers, and then, he smiled. Had he detected her quiet sigh of relief?
“Ye’re up late, Amelia.”
“I became engrossed in quite a riveting tale. Until the sound of a man’s boots thudding against the floor distracted me.”
A hint of a smile played on his full mouth. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think ye were worrying about me.”
“I’ve no cause for worry.” She cupped her palm against his face, lightly drawing the pads of her fingers over the dark stubble edging his jaw. “Now do I?”
“I can take care of myself.” Entering the room and closing the door behind them, he brushed a soft kiss over her cheek. “Ye’ve no worries about that.” His expression turned darker. “I understand ye had a visitor today.”
“A most unpleasant man,” she said. “But I suppose you already know all about it.”
“Notallabout it. Only what Finn was able to ferret out of Mansfield’s driver. The man’s a talker when he’s got some whisky in him.”
“There’s something about Cecil Mansfield—something that sets my every nerve on edge.”
Logan’s sable brows rose. “Did he threaten ye?”
“I cannot say that he did. Not directly. But he clearly implied a warning that I should give him what he wants.”
“He’s out to get his hands on the building.”
Amelia nodded. “He plans to use the space to expand his ventures.”
“Do you have any idea why he’s decided to acquire that particular building?”
“He did not explain his reasoning.” Amelia laced her fingers together in a nervous knot. “In time, the man will get what he wants. But I won’t leave until there is no choice. As you know, I made that clear to Mr. Driscoll.”
“If Mansfield returns, send for me. He will soon understand he’s made an error in judgment.”
“He will be back.” She pulled in a steadying breath. “But I am not afraid of him.”
“I meant what I said, Amelia. If the bloke steps one foot in the library again, I want to know. If he gives ye any trouble, he will answer to me.” Logan went to the sideboard, poured sherry into a crystal glass, and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” She took a sip, warming her throat, easing the sensation that her nerves had been stretched too tightly.
Logan led her to the settee. She sank down upon the plushly upholstered piece, placed her glass on the marble-topped table, and smoothed out her skirts. He joined her there and took a drink from his glass, leaning back.
He glided his long fingers through her hair and brushed a light kiss over her lips. Searching. Asking. Tempting her to surrender her heart.
“Ah, Amelia, that pretty face of yers could bewitch a man.” His gravel-edged words were a caress.
She sighed against his mouth, the sound filled with wanting she could not deny.
He claimed her lips with a kiss. Tender, yet passionate. Carnal. Nearly primal in its intensity.
“I want ye in my arms, lass. In my bed. Tonight.”
And every night.
Startled by the boldness of her own thoughts, Amelia opened her eyes. Dragging in a low breath, she inhaled his scent, notes of whisky and bergamot blending with the crisp aroma of shaving soap.
Oh, she wanted him. More than she should. Much, much more than was wise.
