He took a single step back. Years of slipping in and out of shadows, creeping through gardens and over rooftops had taught him how to walk softly. She could not possibly have heard his movement.
And yet, she took another step toward him, her gaze intent on the shadows where he hid. “I know you’re out there, even if I cannot see you.”
Another step back and his back hit the garden wall. If she kept coming, she’d run straight into him.
Unwilling to be caught hiding like a coward, Jack cleared his throat, but made no move to towards her. “How did you know I was here?”
“I heard you rustling in the bushes.”
“Impossible,” he scoffed.
“What are you doing out here, hiding in the shrubbery?” Her eyes squinted, still trying to make out who stood in the shadows.
“I was about to take my leave, but I heard your altercation. I planned on coming to your rescue.” He chuckled, despite himself. “But you seemed to have taken care of matters.”
He intentionally deepened his voice. Charlotte never noticed him when he was out in society as his real self, but they did mingle in the same circles. After all, she was the dear friend of his sister. She may treat him with disdain, but they had spoken, and it wouldn't do for her to recognize his voice.
She took several steps in his direction, cracking a few fallen twigs in her wake. Surprise etched her features as a smile slid into place. She had seen him, and she was curious. Intrigued by the notorious Jack of Hearts.
Ah…of course she was. Of course a woman like Charlotte would be bored by merely commanding the heart of eligible bachelor, and would therefore find the excitement of a scoundrel like Jack intriguing. Besides, Jack’s robberies made for the hottest gossip, and there was nothing Charlotte loved more than being the center of attention.
“Have a lovely evening, Miss Reed,” Jack said as he turned to leave.
“Wait,” she said. “Don’t go, yet.”
The tempo of his heart increased, and he hated it. Hated that she could still affect him despite the fact that he’d long ago given up hope that there was more to Charlotte than her beautiful facade. She was spoiled. A consummate flirt. A silly, vain girl not worthy of his time. And yet…here he was, risking much by standing here, holding a bag full of stolen jewels while wearing a mask, when he should leave. Should being the operative word.
“I won’t call for help,” she said.
Her words angered him. He was a thief. How could she ignore the danger to her reputation and her safety? The sheer, reckless arrogance of it...
“What makes you think you’re safe with me?”
He turned back to face her. Her rich-blue dress molded tightly to her torso, leaving little of her breasts to his imagination. Damnation, but he could easily imagine pulling down that pretty fabric and releasing those perfect globes. The color of her gown was dark enough to enhance the alabaster of her skin. She looked nearly ethereal, as if the moon itself shone merely to illuminate her beauty. Even though he doubted the dress was new, she had taken great care with her appearance. No surprise there. She was a vision.
Her brilliant smile gave pause to his breath, making his hands twitch and his gut churn. He hated the power she had over him. Still. After all this time.
She’d never smiled at him like that. Not the him she knew, at least. But to the damned thief standing before her, she bestowed the most radiant of grins.
Irritated, his voice came out naturally as a low growl. “A lady, such as yourself, shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“Because you’re a rogue and a thief?”
No, he nearly said, because you’re being singularly reckless with your safety and your reputation, regardless of who you think I am.
Her carelessness angered him almost as much as her disregard for other people’s feelings. However, he didn’t say it out loud, because Jack wouldn’t care if she was in danger.
She took another slight step forward. She was brazen. Reckless. “You won’t harm me, will you, Jack?”
The sound of that name, his thief’s name on her lips sent a mixture of pride and anger coursing through him. He reached up to ensure his mask was firmly in place. She was flirting with him. He could see it in her face, and the way her mouth was set, the subtle batting of her lashes. Charlotte fancied him.
“You could escort me to the gardens,” she suggested. “Like any gentleman could with a lady.”
“I never claimed to be a gentleman.” He took a step towards her.
Her head tilted down a little as if she were trying to see him more closely. “You don’t have a reputation for ravishing ladies, only for theft.”
“Are the two so different, then?” He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but no matter the warnings in his head, he couldn’t make himself turn from her. God, she was beautiful.