Page 86 of My Rogue, My Ruin
She let go of his shoulders and circled around to stand before him. “You do not keep what you take. You give it to the poor—”
“The magistrate would not give a damn about that.”
“Igive a damn!”
She sealed her lips the moment the curse was out. The man made her want to swoon and swear in equal measure. Archer’s tensed shoulders softened. Firelight reflected in his eyes as he cupped her cheek, his gloved hand sliding like silk against her skin.
She gathered a breath and held it.
“I mean, I…I care. I don’t want anything to happen to you or your friend. Not when you were only trying to do some good,” she said, adding, “as misdirected as it was.”
His mouth quirked into a half grin before falling somber once again. “Why do you care? I’ve been a beast to you.”
Brynn shook her head. Archer’s fingers raked lower, down the slope of her neck. She didn’t know how to answer.Why?It was a fine question. One she wasn’t quite certain how to answer.
Honestly, when Archer had confessed his darkest secret—that he was the Masked Marauder—she had felt a slap of repulsion. Explaining what he did with the items he stole had allayed that feeling, though only slightly. She’d wondered at his endgame. Did he not think he would ever get caught? What kind of fool acted so recklessly, without a care for his own title and lands?
At some point, without even realizing it, the answers had struck her: a man who did these things was a man who cared deeply and passionately—a man who was willing to risk himself and everything he had in order to make a difference in the only way he knew how. If Archer’s father hadn’t sunk the Bradburne dukedom’s finances to such depths, Archer would have given everything to his cause. A cause Brynn found herself caring for—simply because he did.
She had heard whisperings from the Countess of Thorndale at Cordelia’s tea about several mysterious and large donations that had been received for the new children’s hospital on the outskirts of London. Brynn suspected the donations had been from Archer and, even though thievery was wrong, she had to admire his skewed sense of nobility.
Archer stroked the nape of her neck, his fingers threading through her loose ringlets. Brynn’s lids fluttered shut at the delicate sensation.
“I suppose I’ve come to understand what you intended to do. And you aren’t a beast,” she whispered, a delectable shiver unfurling deep in her stomach. “Not when you touch me like this.”
He scraped his fingers around her nape and tensed them. “I am a wolf, and you know it.”
She opened her eyes and found he’d angled his head lower. Instead of alarm, Brynn felt anticipation.
“Well, perhaps you are,” she said, her eyes on his mouth. “But wolf or not, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
His expression pinched. “You have your pistol in your reticule?”
She pulled back at the question, the mention of her pistol jarring. His grasp at the back of her neck wouldn’t let her go far.
“If we must carry out this plan, I need to know you will shoot the bastard if anything goes wrong.” He tugged her closer, until the tips of their noses brushed together. “I need to know you will be safe.”
Brynn nodded, beset by the intensity of his request, of his stare and the possessive hand clutching at her nape. It was as if he never wanted to release her.
“I promise,” she said. Before she could take another breath, Archer kissed her, the pressure of his mouth just as demanding as his request for her to use her pistol well.
He parted her lips with his tongue, and stole inside with savage need. He’d called himself a wolf, and this kiss had a dangerous edge. But she knew in her heart that he wasn’t trying to be a beast. He clung to her, devouring her with his kiss, because he was afraid. He wanted to shield her from harm, and tonight he feared he wouldn’t be able to do so. That knowledge, she knew, was gutting him.
Brynn opened to him, allowing him to sink deeper, closer. How had she learned so much about this man? To know the distinctions between his kisses, and what each one meant underneath their passionate surface, frightened her.
I know him as I never thought I would,she thought as his hands traveled down the back of her gown and over her rump, crushing her against his body.
Ilovehim as I never thought I would.
Heat and shock flared inside Brynn’s chest, and she gasped against his mouth. Archer pulled back.
“What is it?” he asked, concern leaping in his gaze.
“I just…I think we should get on with things. Before I lose my nerve,” she answered, her eyes falling away. He took a deep breath and nodded upon releasing her.
“And I mine,” he said. “I’ll leave through the front door and have my driver take the carriage to King Street. I have a mount waiting for me there. I’ll double back and wait for your conveyance to pull away from Bishop House. I’ll follow you at a close distance.”
“How will I know you?” she asked, eyeing his attire. He would stick out sorely as he was and would most definitely have thought to bring something to cloak himself with.
