Page 40 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“I do understand.” Macie’s expression was pensive. “Well, this does complicate our arrangement, doesn’t it?”
“Ye could say that,” Finn agreed. “Jon trusted me to keep ye safe. And I intend to do just that.”
“While I do see the need for caution, I cannot bear the thought of being confined to a luxurious prison.” Her eyes glimmered with determination. “Are we to assume that PhineasCaldwell, my ever-vigilant protector, will stand at the ready against any threat, including the occasional villain?”
Why did he have the sudden feeling he was about to walk into quicksand? “If need be.”
Her plump mouth curved into a defiant, too blasted tempting smile. “I plan to spend my days at Bennington Manor. And wherever else the muse may lead. I trust you do not harbor a fear of ghosts.”
He scrubbed his hand against his jaw, as if that might ease the tension coursing through his bones. Macie had no right to be so blasted appealing, especially when she was determined to make his life a blasted challenge.
“The dead do not concern me. The creatures I’m watching for still live and breathe.”
Her eyes widened. Appearing to mull over his words, she grazed her teeth over her plump lower lip.
“I thought as much.” She regarded him rather intently. “In that case, I will count on you to chase off whatever loathsome creatures are lurking in the dark. I suspect most will be of the four-legged variety, but I do hope the rumors of your rough-and-ready exploits are true.”
He resisted the urge to scowl.Blast it. Had Jon regaled Macie with puffed-up tales? Boxing was a means of using his fists to ease the tension in his mind. He confined his bouts to the gymnasium, with notable exceptions. More than one arrogant bloke had underestimated Finn’s drive to win. But no one would ever have confused him with Gentleman Jim Corbett.
“Rough-and-ready exploits. Do tell,” Amelia said.
“I’d wager Miss Mason’s brother has exaggerated my success in the ring.” Finn kept his tone cool.
“And I’d bet a bottle of good Scotch he was not talking about yer civilized bouts,” Logan said with a knowing smile. “Jon choseyou to protect his sister because you possess certain skills. We both know that at times, it takes a brawler to defend a lady.”
Chapter Thirteen
It takes abrawler to defend a lady.
Logan’s words swirled in Macie’s thoughts. For reasons she could not begin to explain, even to herself, she found the notion utterly delicious. An image of the man in what could only be described as a primal masculine state began to take shape in her mind.How very unexpected.
If anyone could have read her thoughts, my, how scandalized they would be.
Heaven knew her own reaction caught her off guard. It wasn’t as though she had never thought about Finn taking on opponents with both his fists and his wits. With a little shake of her head she hoped no one had noticed, she cleared her thoughts. Goodness, what had come over her?
Finn had left his seat to head to the bar with Logan. Pulling in a low breath, she allowed her gaze to trail his long, sure strides. Even fully clothed in gentleman’s attire, Finn could not conceal the powerful build of his chest and the sleek, lean strength of his legs. With that clever, quick-witted mind of his, she had no doubt the man could bring down a larger, heavier opponent by employing strategy and calculation in his blows.
Lowering her gaze, she pretended an interest in the lemony dessert that sat before her. As an educated woman of an independent mind, the notion of Finn perpetuating violence in the name of sport should be entirely repellant to her. But her response was quite the contrary.
Finn Caldwell fascinated her.
Tall, infuriating, and more handsome than a man had a right to be, he intrigued her beyond all reason. Utterly so.
How very ironic that the man who filled her waking dreams was standing before her. Yet he was off limits.
Heaven knew her father would not approve of such a match.
Finn was not a duke. Nor an earl, viscount, or baron, for that matter. Beyond that, his reputation as an unrepentant rogue preceded him. On more than one occasion, she’d overheard her brother regaling his friends about their exploits.
No, Finn Caldwell was not suitable. Not at all.
But that didn’t stop her from drinking him in. Feeling a bit bold, Macie savored the sheer masculine appeal of the man. In her mind’s eye, she sketched a picture of him facing off against an opponent. His trousers hugging his lean muscled legs. The muscles of his bare chest flexing, a light sheen from exertion enhancing the contour of his biceps and pectorals. The set of his jaw as he eyed his combatant with utter focus. His wheat-brown hair, slightly dampened with perspiration. The seductive half-smile playing on his full mouth.
Her imaginary Finn turned to her and threw a wink, cheeky as ever.
Her mouth went dry.How very intriguing.
Had her cheeks actually heated?
