Page 109 of The Last Chance
Aaron raised a stoic chin but water welled in his eyes.
“Spare me the melodrama,” Natasha said.
Something in Natasha’s tone had Joanna covertly reaching into her pocket and cocking the hammer on the pistol. She slipped her fingers around the handle and firmed her grip.
“Lower the weapon,” Mr Daventry reiterated.
But Natasha laughed and aimed at Aaron’s chest. “If I’m going to die, I’m taking that devil with me. His father needs some entertainment in hell.”
As Natasha fired, a ball from the old musket hit her in the chest, causing her aim to falter and veer off target. A shot from the muff pistol hit her, too, and she dropped to the floor like a sack of sodden grain.
Lucia ran to Mrs Lowry and hugged her tightly.
Joanna turned to Aaron, patting his body, frantically searching for evidence of blood. “Are you hurt? Did she hit you?”
“I’m fine, love,” he reassured her. “Natasha missed.”
Mrs Maloney approached, tears glistening in her eyes as she hugged Aaron as any distraught mother would. “You gave us all a mighty scare.” She brushed his hair from his brow and cupped his cheek. “But no one hurts my boy and lives to tell the tale.”
Chapter Twenty-One
After over a week of peaceful silence, the basement and card rooms of Fortune’s Den rang with shouts and boisterous laughter. The contenders had arrived, their complex mix of accents resonating through the corridors like the out-of-tune notes of a symphony. The percussion came in the form of clinking tankards, slamming doors and the thud of clenched fists on the tables.
Arguments erupted. Taunts led to punches out of the ring, with some men taking their grievances into the yard.
For Aaron, the event should have roused the feeling of being home, the deafening racket drowning out thoughts he preferred to keep locked away.
But not tonight.
While he stretched his muscles and waited for Aramis, his mind was consumed with the beautiful woman lounging in his bed. “You need to dress if you want to watch me fight. Perhaps you’d prefer to remain here and pretend I’m still the hero of your dreams.”
The muscles in his abdomen twisted into knots.
A fighting pit was no place for a woman.
He’d hurt any man who laid a hand on her.
But that’s not what scared him most.
Joanna came up on her elbows, the bedsheets slipping to reveal her bare breasts. “I’ll dress when you leave. I don’t want you to know what I’m wearing.”
She spoke like he couldn’t find her in a crowd and wasn’t attuned to her scent or the sound of her breathing. Every part of him wanted to climb into bed beside her, talk, sleep, make love, and share a picnic supper like they had for the last three days.
For the first time in his life, he had been selfish, letting Delphine and Dorian take care of Mrs Lowry and Lucia, leaving Daventry to deal with the magistrate. While his family breathed deep sighs of relief, thankful their troubles were over, Aaron still had a major problem to overcome.
“You must focus on the fights, Aaron, not on me.”
“I wish I could say I’ll be a tamer version of myself.” His gaze moved from Joanna’s lips to her breasts and the rosy nipples begging for his mouth. “But a part of me will always be broken. I will always need to be the ruler of my domain.”
She knew not to get out of bed and distract him. “Is anyone truly whole? Life leaves its imprint on us all. It’s a cycle of healing and rebuilding. It should unite us, Aaron, not tear us apart.”
Her wisdom and ability to accept people, not judge them, were two of the many reasons he loved her. Still, he couldn’t shake this crippling unease, the fear he would lose everything tonight.
“Do you know what they called me in the ring as a boy?”
“No, you’ve never said.”
“I thought Aramis might have told you.” His brother had sat with her for two hours at the Thames Police Station while Aaron gave his statement.
