Page 57 of Tender Blackguard

An odd tightening claimed her as she finally understood. “And you’re asking for my opinion?”

There was another long pause. Then his chin lowered, and he splayed his hands on the surface of his thighs as he glanced toward the low-glowing fire in her small grate.

“Just because I don’t wish you to put yourself in undeniable peril doesn’t mean I don’t value your thoughts on the matter.” His blue eyes slid back to meet hers, causing a delicate shiver to dance across her nape. “Unless you’d be betraying a personal confidence.”

Taking a slow, deep breath, Lark tried to dispel the intimate haze his gaze inspired. Though the subject matter was anything but sensual, she couldn’t seem to keep her body from reacting to his low tone and penetrating stare with visceral intensity.

“As I said, I haven’t known Dell Turner for many years. Anything I tell you could no longer be true.”

“Details of a person’s situation may change. Their location or their society or their occupation. But someone’s base human qualities tend to remain constant.” He tilted his head. “What words would you use to define the man as you once knew him?”

Lark thought back to the times they’d worked together, the things she’d learned from him. “Cunning. Discerning. Resourceful.”

His voice was low. “You trusted him. A great deal.”

“With my life,” she noted in full honesty. “More than once.”

“Would you do the same today?”

There was no hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“I see.” He returned his attention to the fire. “Was he your lover?”

Lark’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. Searching the dark angles of Warfield’s face, she tried to determine the source of his inquiry. There was strain clear in the firm press of his lips and a forbidding shadow weighing down his brow, but she couldn’t be sure why he’d ask such a thing.

She decided to answer honestly. “We were no more than children when I knew him. I guess I considered him a sort of mentor. And a rare friend.”

The marquess nodded, but she couldn’t help but notice the tensing of his jaw muscle and the light flickering deep in his eyes.

“Would it matter if we had been more than that?”

The thought that he might possibly be feeling something akin to jealousy over her prior association with Turner gave her an intense rush of warmth.

Blue eyes bored into hers as the marquess appeared to search for something inside her. Instinct warred with intuition. One urging her to protect herself against the intensity of his gaze. The other desiring nothing more than to fall headlong into it.

“No.” His answer was curt. Complete. Untrue.

Lark sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. Lowering her gaze, she rose to her feet. “I imagine you have important things to attend to. I won’t keep you.”

She crossed the room to the door, but just as she grasped the doorknob, she felt his presence close behind her. Closer than he had any need to be. Close enough for his broad chest to press against her back when he reached past her, covering her hand with his.

The position was far too reminiscent of those stolen minutes in the secret passage, and her body responded instantly to the memory. And the heat and smell of him.

Her breath caught sharply as a delicious, poignant pain arched through her center. It was longing and desire and a touch of fear all at once as she held herself still. Not knowing his intention. Breathlessly hoping it coincided with the intimate yearning she couldn’t ignore.

“I apologize.” His words were a heavy whisper. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“You didn’t,” she answered quickly. Breathlessly.

His ragged breath brushed against her temple as he slid his hand over hers...slowly, deliberately...sparking tingling fire over her skin until his long fingers encircled her wrist.

With gentle but firm insistence, he urged her to release the doorknob. As soon as her fingertips left the cool brass, he lifted her hand to press it flat against the wall in front of her.

Her breath sped with her heartbeat as he held it there.

“Tell me to leave,” he murmured, lowering his head beside hers. “Call me wicked and abhorrent.” His voice could barely be heard as his lips moved against the sensitive skin below her ear. “Call me a blackguard and a cad.”

“Why?” she gasped as he slipped an arm around her middle, pulling her tighter to him.

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