Page 54 of The Hired Hero
She gave a short laugh. “If you don’t have a care, sir, your bruises will soon be a match for mine.”
That drew a reluctant smile from him. “What a pair we are,” he responded. “What in the name of Hades ever made you follow those men? Surely, you could see they were spoiling for a fight. You could have gotten yourself in more trouble than you can imagine—as you see, it took them little time to figure out you were not an ordinary street urchin.”
“I am well aware what mood they were in—the mood for blood.”
“But not yours,” he retorted. “You should have gone on to the inn and taken the first coach to London. I could have handled the situation very well myself.”
Caroline cocked a brow. “Indeed? If I had been one of those gentlemen, I’m not sure I would have been quaking in my boots.” A shrug. “Besides, you told me the coach didn’t leave until close to dawn.”
“Well, it was a damn foolish thing to do. Will you never learn to be sensible?”
“Probably not,” she answered. “But be that as it may, you’ve pulled my irons out of the fire more than once on this journey, at considerable risk to your own person.” Setting the bucket aside, she looked up to meet his gaze. “I owed you.”
Davenport’s expression hardened. “I’m sorry that you felt compelled to put yourself in danger,” he said stiffly. “No doubt you—what are you doing?”
Caroline undid the last button of his shirt and opened it to expose his chest. With a sharp intake of breath, she stared down at the reddening welt across his ribs, then her eyes flared hot with anger.
“The cur!” she exclaimed. “What a bloody coward to have struck you thus when you were helpless to protect yourself.” Her hand was already running gently over the bruises. It lingered against the tanned flesh. “Do you think anything is broken?”
Perhaps it was simply the flickering light playing tricks, but Davenport thought that he caught a glimmer of tears.
The idea was ludicrous, he told himself. Perhaps he was more feverish than he had thought.
“You had better start minding your language. It’s becoming as colorful as that of a guttersnipe,” he answered softly. “And no, there are no broken bones. There is no need to fret—it’s just a bruise. I assure you, I’ve experienced far worse knocks. It will take a lot more than this for me to come a cropper.”
Caroline was starting to shiver. He reached out and pulled her down beside him. The air had become distinctly colder, he realized, and no doubt that was the reason.
“Lud, I am a selfish oaf,” he muttered. “You’re freezing, and exhausted to boot, I’m sure. It has been a…trying day.” He curled his arm around her waist and drew her even closer. “It isyouwho must try to sleep.”
Strangely enough, she snuggled against his shoulder with nary a hesitation.
“I thought they were going to…hurt you terribly,” whispered Caroline. Her hand was still on his bare chest. It feathered across the muscled planes and dark curls as it drew his shirt half-closed. “Let me get your coat. You mustn’t catch a chill.”
Davenport caught her arm and held her back. “Stop worrying about me. I assure you, I’m feeling quite warm.” He shifted his position, savoring the feel of her body. The back of her fit snugly into the crook of his body, like the piece of a missing puzzle. He hadn’t been lying—he was acutely aware of the heat emanating from her. She made a small sound, then shifted slightly. Her rounded buttocks grazed lightly against the front of his breeches.
He gritted his teeth as a jolt of desire throbbed throughout his entire body. It wasn’t mere physical need—the reasons were too complex, too overwhelming for him to put into words. All he knew was that he wanted to comfort and protect her and, at the same time, arouse in her the same sort of feelings that suddenly had him in thrall. He wanted her to…
To what?Feel the same irresistible sense of connection between them?
Damnation.He gave up trying to make rational sense of it and simply closed his eyes.
Slowly, slowly, his hand stole up and touched her breast.
She gave a start and then lay utterly still. Ever so gently, he found the opening of her shirt and caressed his fingers over her bare flesh.
Caroline gave a low moan. Her hips began moving restlessly from side to side against him. The earl sucked in his breath.
“Yes, my sweet urchin, intimacy can be pleasurable for a lady too,” he whispered as he nibbled at the lobe of her ear. His lips then moved to hers—and in the next moment, they were twined in a long and lush kiss.
“O-Oh.” Caroline leaned back, looking dazed.
“Has your husband never touched you with tenderness instead of slaps?” he asked.
“N-N-No,” she managed to gasp.
“The selfish lout. He should be horsewhipped,” he said hoarsely as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
A part of him wanted to continue…but a disquieting thought somehow beggared its way into his consciousness.
