And how could he possibly protect Jocelyn if she feared him as a monster?
"I am sorry," he said gently.
"What does this have to do with me?"
Lost in the sweet scent and heat of her, Lucien discovered himself caught off guard by her sudden question.
"What do you mean?"
"First there was Molly, who had a paper with my name in her hand, and then, last night, those horrid men left that note warning others would be killed."
Lucien tucked her closer, briefly wishing that Nefri had chosen any other maiden but this one to bind with the Medallion. He did not want Jocelyn in danger. He did not want to hear that edge of fear in her voice. And most of all, he did not want to know that Amadeus was always skulking in the shadows, waiting to do whatever necessary to gain command of the artifact.
"I truly do not know, my dove," he retorted in rueful honesty. If only he knew what Amadeus plotted, he would feel considerably more confident in his skill to protect her.
She gave a shake of her head. "It makes no sense."
"At the moment I fear I must agree. I do promise, however, that I will discover what the demon is plotting."
Without warning she pulled back to regard him with a worried frown.
"You will not put yourself in danger?" she demanded.
He slowly smiled at the genuine anxiety etched upon her beautiful countenance. Jocelyn may not yet accept the fact that an unmistakable affection was growing between them, but it was there whatever her determination to keep him at arm's length.
"No more danger than necessary," he assured her.
In the shadows her magnificent eyes suddenly flashed with an unmistakable fire.
"Lucien."
He laughed softly at her chiding tones, firmly pulling her back into his arms and pressing her head to his chest. It felt astonishingly wonderful to hold her close.
There was a silent pause before she heaved a soft sigh. "Why is this happening?"
He glanced out the window of the carriage to view the filthy streets lined with desperate, hungry people. How easy it would be to whisk Jocelyn away from all of this and provide her with the beauty and luxury she deserved. But that would not keep her safe from the traitors, and he was far from certain that she desired to leave those poor souls who depended upon her.
It appeared for the moment he could only offer support.
"Jocelyn, you are a strong woman. Strong enough to face this danger and survive."
He felt her shiver. "How can you be so certain?"
Determined to lighten the dark mood that was threatening to overwhelm her, Lucien deliberately tilted her chin up so that he could smile deep into her troubled eyes.
"Because I am not only handsome, charming, and witty, I am also quite perceptive. I no doubt already know you better than you know yourself."
Thankfully the tightness of her features lessened and a hint of amusement glinted to life within her eyes.
"You, sir, are impossible."
"And charming and handsome and witty," he added, bending slowly forward to softly brush those tempting lips with his own.
For one delicious heartbeat she allowed his mouth to linger. Then, with a near -tangible reluctance, she pulled back to regard him with a faint frown.
"You can make no claim of winning any kisses on this night, Lucien," she pointed out in unsteady tones. "There were no wagers or forfeits to be paid."
"Shall I admit that I simply could not resist?"