His soft chuckle filled the foyer. "Is there a difference?"
"Of course."
"If you say," he murmured, his fingers slowly moving to trace the firm line of her jaw.
The danger in the air shimmered with a sudden heat. "I... we should be on our way," she whispered.
His eyes swept over her flushed countenance, lingering for a tantalizing moment upon her unsteady lips.
"You are always eager to be hurrying away when things become interesting."
Interesting?
Perilously insane, more likely.
"Interesting for you, perhaps," she forced herself to retort.
"I think for the both of us if you would just lower your guard."
"My guard is staying precisely where it is," she warned in what she hoped were firm tones.
"You might as well resign yourself to that fact."
He gave a shake of his head, the golden hair that framed his lean countenance shimmering in the candlelight.
"Never," he swore softly. "I will wait all eternity if need be."
"An eternity?"
"Yes."
Her breath once again became elusive. "You are being absurd. Let us go."
His fingers searched along the curve of her neck, slowly testing the softness of her skin.
"You cannot run from me forever, Jocelyn," he warned in husky tones.
It took far more effort than she cared to admit to abruptly thrust away from the wall and step from his tempting nearness. She felt bewitched, and not at all herself.
In an effort to disguise her odd trembling, Jocelyn made a great show of smoothing her plain gray gown and ensuring her expression was calm.
"I can run an eternity if need be," she retorted in thankfully steady tones.
He smiled ruefully at her swift retreat, although a shimmer of determination remained in the golden eyes.
"Ah, no, that I will not allow," he warned as he moved to place her hand upon his arm and escorted her out the door and down the steps to the darkened street. "Where shall we go first?"
"To the warehouse," she said, having made her decision earlier in the day. "I wish to ensure the children are safe."
Lucien gave an understanding nod before stepping forward and at last hailing a passing hack.
They rode in silence as they made their way the handful of blocks to the derelict warehouse.
Jocelyn was soon lost in her concern for the children and women who were forced to sell themselves upon the streets. They were unfortunately vulnerable and all too often the victims of violence. A violence they possessed few means to oppose. Her distraction, however, was ruthlessly pierced as they moved closer and closer to the warehouse. A shiver raced through her as she felt an odd prickle of evil crawl over her skin.
It was ridiculous, she attempted to tell herself. One could not feel evil. And yet, her fingers instinctively reached up to touch the amulet around her neck, as if it were offering her a warning she should not ignore.
The sensation only grew stronger as the hack halted in the shadows of the warehouse. With a stiff reluctance she forced herself to accept Lucien's help in alighting, then moved toward the narrow door. Much to her astonishment, she discovered it already open. A frown marred her forehead. The children were wise enough never to leave the door unattended.