Page 61 of His Scandal
She unlocked the door. Opening it just a crack to keep her lack of garments hidden, she peered out and saw Alex, his face stubbled and tired, but his infuriating grin ever present.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. His doublet and shirt were open at the throat.
There was hair on his chest, and she found that fascinating.
He braced himself with a hand on the doorframe. “I need to talk to you.”
“The morning would be a more suitable time,” she whispered, turning to see if Blythe had stirred.
The door suddenly bumped against her as he took her hand and drew her into the hall. Embarrassed by the indecency of her garments, she tried to retreat, but he’d already closed the door behind her.
“Alex!” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I will not stand for this!”
“Maxwell has found someone who knows about vines, so he’ll be detained.”
She pulled against him, but was no match for his strength as he dragged her through the open door into his chamber.
“And there won’t be any privacy on the morrow,” he continued, shutting the door and leaning back against it.
Emmeline turned her back on him, feeling that she was almost naked even though her smock covered her from her neck to her toes. But she wore…nothing else, not a corset or petticoat. It was certainly indecent—and thrilling.
No. No, it wasn’t, she thought desperately, trying not to look at the two pallets, one of which Alex would soon be lying in, wearing…what?
She had to get back to her own chamber beforeher wicked thoughts grew any worse. “Alex, I am appalled at your behavior. Just tell me what you want and be done with it.”
He pushed away from the door unsteadily, and Emmeline had to force herself not to back away from him. He was tall and intimidating, but not in the way of their drunken assailant. He threatened her because she now knew how easily she gave in to the pleasure she felt in his arms.
And they were alone, with no one to disturb them.
He sighed. “I wanted you to know that I regret not seeing your predicament a few hours ago. You trusted me with the safety of yourself and your sister, and if Maxwell hadn’t noticed, I might have just kept walking merrily on my way.”
“You are too harsh with yourself, Alex. I was about to call out. Trust me, you would have heard me.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Really? Then you forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive. Besides, drunk as he was, that man probably did not need quite the force you demonstrated.”
He sobered again and stepped closer. “I could not take a chance, Em. What if it had been one of those men following me?”
“Was it?”
“No.”
For the first time, Emmeline realized how seriously he was taking these threats against him.
“Perhaps you need to tell all this to a justice of the peace.”
He came another step closer, and she hugged herself even tighter.
“No, Em, for what would I say? I have no clue to their identities, no guess at their motives.”
His voice softened, his gaze dropped, and she felt his hand suddenly slide up her arm.
“Alex,” she said with a warning in her voice, but she didn’t retreat, could barely think with the heat of his skin separated from hers by only fine linen. She had to think of something—anything—else. “Though I did not care for the game you played against Clifford, I did appreciate your kindness to him.”
He nodded almost absently, his gaze still on his hand where he rubbed her arm. “It wasn’t difficult. He was…tolerable.”
She licked her lips and tried not to imagine her arm afire where he touched it. “I’m not surprised. I get on well with both of you, so you should be able to tolerate each other.”
