Page 8 of His Wicked Secret
“Are you all right?” Jonathan asked as he leaned over her in the dim moonlight.
“I think so.” But she wasn’t. A storm of fear and panic was growing inside her, and she knew if she didn’t get somewhere quiet and safe, she would soon break down.
Her anxieties seemed to show clearly enough for him to read. “Oh dear,” Jonathan whispered, and then he curled an arm around her waist before whisking her down the street. “Come on, we must keep moving. I promise to take you somewhere safe.”
Her booted feet ached as they seemed to run forever. The cat felt remarkably heavy in her arms, but she couldn’t seem to let go of him. Perhaps more remarkably, the cat didn’t fight her.
They turned the nearest corner, exiting the Temple Bar district, and a hackney stood waiting for them. Jonathan paid the driver and helped her inside. She set the cat down on the seat beside her. It flattened its ears again but made no move to strike, nor did it hiss.
Jonathan’s breath escaped in loud pants as he leaned back in the seat across from her. His lip was split, and several red welts shadowed his jaw and cheeks. Sweat gleamed upon his skin, and he looked utterly masculine and wonderful. She wanted to crawl onto his lap to kiss him and burrow into him. Her heart was still pounding, and she wanted to be nowhere else but in his arms. But that couldn’t happen.
He gingerly touched his ribs, moaning before he finally looked at her. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was going to lecture her, and heaven knew she deserved it for once. But his gaze changed, deepened, and her breaths came faster and hope fluttered in her chest.
“Did you hit a man with the candelabra?”
Audrey blinked. “Yes, yes I did. And then I got the poker. I felt it had a better striking range and balance for a weapon.”
He grinned. “Lord, I think I adore you.” Even with a bleeding and bruised face, he looked absolutely wonderful. She almost replied that she adored him as well, but she stopped short. She couldn’t tell him how she felt; he would only find a way to deny her again, and she was done with such heartbreak.
“What were you doing at the club?” she asked. “You certainly aren’t a member.”
His low chuckle surprised her. “Are you so sure?”
Damnation, he had the most wicked smile. It made her forget she was a gentle-born lady and ought to behave as such. Of course, earlier that day, they’d been tangled up in bed in a brothel, and he had shown her the startling and frightening power of her own body’s pleasurable reactions with nothing but his hands. He’d wanted to punish her with pleasure, and as a result she’d experienced the most exquisite ecstasy. He was no better than his older brother.
“You are a rogue, and certainly wicked, but you are not cruel. At least not like those other men.” Her gaze dropped, and she played with the ripped black sash that wound around the waist of her gown.
She had designed the satin gown with care. It had black tulle with Belgian lace on the sleeves. The satin sash had been tied into a bow in the back, which accented her curves far better than the way most dresses were designed. Far too many such dresses hung below one’s breasts like an ill-fitting bag. She’d never approved of that silly fashion trend.
“Are you saying that I’m cruel in some part, then?” he asked quietly. The amusement in his eyes was gone, and his gaze was as cutting as the emerald stones they resembled.
“I…” There was a cruelty in him, it was true. The way he avoided her at every social gathering, the way he ignored every overture she made. She’d wanted to marry him,desperately. But the man had responded with such coldness that it made her question her own worth. She cringed when she remembered all those times she’d thrown herself at him. Even their first kiss last Christmas had sent him running. If a man didn’t want her, all he had to do was inform her politely that her affections were not returned. That was how things were done. But that wasn’t whathe’ddone. No, he stayed as cold as ice on the Thames during the winter.
“I didn’t ever mean to be cruel,” he whispered, touching his lip again.
Did he mean that? She was so afraid to trust what he said. She wasn’t the girl he’d met last fall. She had changed.
I won’t let him hurt me again by shutting me out.
The silence between them filled the hackney, thick and smothering. Even the black cat seemed to sense the tension between them and curled himself into a ball, eyes wide and ears still flattened. Audrey longed to reach out and pet the cat. He would distract her from her tumbling thoughts about Jonathan. She had recently lost one of the two cats that she’d had since she was a child. Poor Muff. This new cat did not look or act like Muff, but she loved all animals. If this cat would let her, she would care for it.
“Audrey, please say something.” Jonathan leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
“Where are we going?” She hadn’t been listening when he’d spoken to the driver earlier.
“My residence. You need to be seen by a doctor—”
“Doctor? Heavens, I’m fine. I’m not bleeding, nor have I suffered any injuries. If anyone needs tending to it’s you.” She touched the frayed sash at her waist. “My only injury tonight is my lovely gown.” That was certainly something that was most upsetting.
“You and your bloody dresses,” Jonathan snapped irritably.
Audrey’s anger rose up in an instant. A lady’s wardrobe was one of the few ways she could establish herself in the world. “My bloody dresses are wonderful. You have no right to—”
Jonathan lunged across the coach to clasp a hand over her mouth. Their faces were now close together, their mouths inches apart. “If I have to hear any more about dresses I’ll…” He didn’t finish the thought.If he had, she would have shoved her booted foot between his thighs. She narrowed her eyes, tempted to bite his hand.
“You’llwhat?” she shot back through his fingers.
His eyes focused on hers, and he scowled as he removed his hand. “What am I going to do with you?” He leaned in that last inch between them, kissing her before she could say anything else. The bruising force of his lips caught her by surprise, and her lips parted. His tongue slipped between them, and she jolted. It was as though lightning had shot from her mouth down to her core, making it pulse to life. She gripped the fabric of his waistcoat, intending to shove him away.
