Page 119 of To Catch A Rogue
She burst into a gale of laughter that swiftly choked off. "Behind you!"
He caught a glimpse of a shadow rushing at him from behind, and then Lark ran at him. Charlie caught her elbow and spun, as Lark drove the heel of her foot into the attacker's face.
It was perfectly choreographed.
The man flipped over the edge of the bridge, vanishing into the murky waters below as Charlie swung Lark down onto her feet as smoothly as any waltz.
"One day you're going to let me have all the accolades," he told her. "I always make you look good."
"Well, I would have swung you, but you're such an overgrown lout these days, we'd have ended up in a crumpled heap on the bridge."
"Think we've got them all?" he asked, looking around at the groaning and still bodies on the bridge.
"If we didn't, then Gemma did. Remind me not to get on her bad side."
"You're starting to sound like a Rogue."
The faintest hint of color darkened her cheeks. "Think they'd have me?"
"I don't know. You'd have to pass some fairly stringent interviews. I think you have Ingrid's vote. She loves nothing more than seeing Byrnes get a taste of his own medicine. Ava's a given—once we rescue her—and if you have Ava on your side, then Kincaid's sure to follow. Herbert's already feeding you, and Gemma's starting to warm up to you, though I'm not sure about Obsidian. He's got the best damned poker face I've ever seen. There's just one problem...."
"Malloryn?"
"No. There's this one Rogue remaining, and you've yet to convince him."
"Is this one Rogue wearing the most revealingly diaphanous shirt I've ever seen?" she teased, tugging on the collar.
Charlie looked down. He looked like a male prostitute. No wonder none of their attackers had taken him seriously. "He can get rid of the shirt with a little convincing."
"Oh?" Lark bit her lip. "What if I removed my shirt as well? Would that help him make up his mind?"
"It might." Charlie leaned down toward her. "But if you remove those trousers, then you're practically guaranteed his vote."
"I'd have to think about it," she teased. "It seems I already have the majority vote. What makes you think I need his?"
"Well, his is the most important—"
It happened almost in slow motion.
A hooded figure rolled under the carriage, aiming his pistol at the middle of Lark's back.
Charlie didn't think. Didn't hesitate.
Instead, he grabbed her and rolled her out of the way just as the pistol retorted.
It felt like a hot poker stabbing into his shoulder. Lark screamed, and then they were tumbling over the edge of the bridge, slamming into the water.
The shock of the frigid water stole his breath. Lark tore from his arms, leaving him scrambling to find the surface. His arm wasn't working properly, but the cold, the icy cold, stole some of the heat and pain.
A hand closed in his shirt, wrenching him upwards, and somehow he wrapped his arms around the lithe figure kicking toward the surface. He could see her face in the moonlight that streamed through the water, her hair floating around her like a mermaid’s.
Capturing her face, he kissed her, bubbles streaming from his mouth as he claimed her lips.
And then they broke the surface.
* * *
Lark surfaced,hauling Charlie up with a grunt of exertion.
