Page 145 of The Lyon Returns
“What about Dirk?” Gideon asked.
“What about him? Casualty, I’m afraid. Died at sea, I understand, trying to thwart the sale to the French in the final hour. Should’ve known he couldn’t be trusted. We had to go to extreme measures to convince him to do our bidding, threatening to harm his family if he did not—Of course, his family still needed to die to prevent them naming names.
“But that was where things started going wrong,” he continued. “They somehow slipped out of Rory’s sights. Speaking of which, you found Dirk’s wife, didn’t you? She’s the one who led you to Rory? Without that tip, things would not have started unraveling. In truth, I blame all of this on your little pretend wife for showing up and providing you with an alibi.”
Brice glared up at her, leveled the pistol.
Gideon braced to jump.
Then, rocks started skittering down the escarpment. His heart in his throat, he jerked his gaze upward, praying she had not fallen over the edge.
She hadn’t. His wife had implemented her own plan to save themand was tumbling toward him like a snowball out of control.
He had the split-second thought that now he had to worry about her breaking her beautiful neck, when Brice shouted, “No,” and stumbled back, firing arm adjusting to the re-aim at the moving target that was Gwen.
Gideon flew at him, and the pistol fired. He landed on his feet, charging forward, fists primed. He closed the distance separating him and Brice in one stride.
Never was landing a punch more satisfying than the first of many he slammed into Brice. He was dimly aware of Brice returning his assault in equal measure. He didn’t care. All that mattered was downing the bastard so he could get to Gwen.
She couldn’t be shot. She couldn’t be.
Finally, with a swipe of his booted foot, he knocked Brice’s legs out from under him.
The two went down hard, with Gideon on top.
Brice scrabbled for dirt and flung it into Gideon’s face, momentarily blinding him long enough to squirm out from under him.
As he scrubbed at his eyes, he remembered his dirk, pulled it from his ankle holster, and heaved himself onto the smaller man, flattening him into the ground. In the next instant he had his blade pressed to the man’s throat.
“Gideon,” a man shouted from the access road. Grayson. Only then did Gideon notice the sound of horse hoofs pounding over the earth.
“Gideon, Gwen, are you all right?” his brother called.
Gideon looked up to see his brother sliding from the saddle and running toward him.
“I’ll kill him,” Gideon said through his teeth.
“No,” came a soft, achingly familiar voice behind him.
Gideon choked in a sob at the sound. “Gwen? Are you…” He could not finish.
“A little bruised, a little cold, a lot dirty, and I’d like these bindings removed, but I’ll survive. Let the law deal with him, Gideon, I beg you. I will not see you suffer any more as a result of this monster.”
He turned his head, squinting through the sweat and dirt to take in the sight of the kneeling, bedraggled, most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Abruptly his vision cleared as tears he could not stem welled, then leaked from his eyes.
Grayson cocked his pistol. “I’ve got him, Gideon, and the magistrate is coming. You can let go.”
“No,” came Brice’s hoarse shout. “Kill me. Kill me, Gideon. I beg you.”
Gideon turned once more to Brice. His hand, gripping the knife, shook. A drop of red blood appeared on Brice’s neck, black in the moonlight.
It would only take one slice.
“Gideon, please,” Gwen begged.
It took everything in him, but he withdrew the knife and got to his feet. In the next instant he was at Gwen’s side, cutting her ties off, and then she was in his arms.
“Gwen, dear God, Gwen. I have never been so frightened in my life.”
