Page 24 of Summoner of Sins

“He wants to make England more moral by killing people?” Sophie snorted. “How ridiculous.”

He relaxed. “He thinks our club is what’s wrong with England. Powerful men behaving badly.”

Sophie shook her head. “Few know better than me who is really the villain of this story.”

He spread his hands over her back, wishing he could strip Ironheart’s dressing coat off her. She should be wearing his clothing, not some other man’s. He shook off the thought as he focused on the story.

“Regardless, because our ranks are secret, I couldn’t just go to the police. So, I exposed myself to Whitehouse to try and bait him into action. I’ve put myself in his direct line of fire.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Oh. I see.”

She didn’t see it all. Not yet. “I’ll have to send you somewhere, Sophie. You’re not safe with me.”

“What?”

“I’ve made myself the bait.”

“No,” she shook her head, her hands sliding up his neck. “I am safest with you, Max.”

His lips pressed together, Tabbie’s words coming back to him. Sophie was the kind of woman who’d give all of herself to him without reservation. No qualifications. Why did he have to meet her now?

He dropped his forehead down to hers. “I want you to stay too. I care about you, Sophie, which is why…” She needed to go.

Her hands fluttered from his neck to his jaw, her small fingers holding onto him like he was a lifeline.

Tipping her chin up to his, he pressed his mouth to hers, her mouth just as soft as the rest of her. He pulled back for a moment, drinking in the sight of her eyes closed, a blush upon her cheeks, her lips softly parted before he kissed her again. And again, deeper, longer. He couldn’t remember kissing a woman like this. It wasn’t just lust, and he had no reservations. What he’d not realized was that the connection between them grew stronger in an instant.

He tightened his arms about her, needing her closer still as he kissed her over and over. Sophie belonged in his arms, in the circle of his protection, and that’s where she was going to stay.

He needed a plan. He’d gone too far in baiting Whitehouse to back out now. So whatever plan he chose, he knew one thing for certain.

He had to win.

CHAPTER NINE

Sophie woke to the morning sun pouring in through the windows. She pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes. Abigail was still asleep next to her, and as she dropped her hand, she saw Max asleep in the same armchair they’d slept in together the night before.

His powerful legs were spread wide, the muscles visible under his breeches. His cravat was undone, revealing the thick cords of his neck. Even relaxed, the strong lines of his jaw stole her breath, the only soft thing about him was the fullness of his lips.

She’d felt those lips last night. Kissing him had been more profound than anything she’d ever known. He’d told her that he had to send her away for her protection, but in his arms was where she wished to be.

She looked over at Abigail and sighed. It wasn’t just about her. If it was, she’d risk nearly anything, but she had to think of her little sister. She wiped a hand across her forehead, and then slipped out of the covers, crossing to the small dressing table near the window. On it sat a bowl and a pitcher of water. She poured water into the bowl, splashing her face.

“Get some sleep?” Max asked from behind her.

“More than you, I’d wager.”

She heard him rise, crossing the room. He stopped a few feet behind her. “I slept just fine. Better knowing that I was in the same room so that…”

He didn’t finish and she turned to face him. That was when she realized she was in nothing but her thin chemise. His eyes traveled down her body, his shoulders growing broader, his spine straightening.

Color filled her cheeks. “Thank you for that.”

“How’s your back?”

“Fine,” she shook her head. “I can’t believe?—”

“Sophie,” he said. “You were nearly shot last night. I need you and Abigail?—”

---