brow rose higher. "Your bed?"
A pretty blush suffused her cheeks. "That is to say, your bed," she corrected. "Perhaps I should explain my presence here."
Sterling noticed the valise sitting upon the wagon floor. "Make it quick. The farther we travel from London, the farther the walk when you return."
Her back straightened. "I cannot go back. I must throw myself upon your mercy."
She didn't pitch forward and land at his feet, and she hadn't lowered the superior tilt to her chin. At least her hands shook as she fondled the expensive lace that made a mockery of the term work frock. Sterling resented her immediately. She was a reminder. A reminder of all that he had lost.
"The wagon isn't moving fast. The fall when you jump shouldn't do more than scuff your slippers."
Her tempting mouth dropped open. "You, sir, are no gentleman."
He allowed his gaze to roam over her from head to toe. "You've already discovered that. Get out before I'm tempted to prove it again."
The man was rude, crass to the core. He stared at her with his unsettling gray eyes as if she were the one who'd taken liberties with him. His hair was not silver, but blond, a few strands streaked lighter than the rest. He was tall, and somewhat intimidating, she'd give him that. But she refused to show fear. Animals, Elise had heard, sensed fear and were prone to act upon the emotion. This man with the pelt draped around his hips, looking for all the world like some Viking, probably had the mentality of a simple beast.
"I have money," she said. "I'll pay you."
One of his dark brows lifted again. "Pay me for what?"
Her mouth felt suddenly dry, her eyes in jeopardy of moving over his muscled flesh. "For safe passage to Liverpool."
He laughed. His teeth were white and straight, she noted. Seeing them exposed on her behalf did not please her. He sobered a moment later.
"How much?"
Elise had pinned the small bag of coins to the inside of her cloak. She fumbled through the folds and removed the bag, then handed it to him. "It isn't much, but it's all that I have."
His long fingers touched hers during the exchange and sent another shiver racing up her spine. He held the bag as if weighing it, then frowned. "I'll wager this isn't enough to pay your expenses even this far. But it is enough to get your throat slit and your body tossed into a ditch by someone less scrupulous." He tossed the bag back to her. "Gather your belongings and leave."
Unbidden, a rush of tears sprang to her eyes. Elise might be frightened of the man, but she was more frightened of being forced into the night. Alone, on the dark roads, she would be an easy mark for thieves, or worse.
"Please," she whispered. "You are my only hope of escape."
The man cocked his head, regarding her thoughtfully. "Escape? Who are you running from?"
Frightened or not, Elise had been schooled in proper manners. "It wouldn't be proper for me to tell you. I don't even know your name."
He laughed. "They call me Beast Tamer, and if you cared at all about being proper, you damn sure wouldn't be here."
His rudeness wore upon her already frayed nerves. "Has no one ever taught you manners?"
The wheels hit a rut and bounced him across the wagon. He landed beside her. Elise scrambled back - away from his nakedness, the heat that radiated from his powerful body. For all his rudeness, he didn't speak with a cockney accent like most of the common lot. His bone structure was good. Straight nose, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and well-defined lips.
"Manners do not put food in my belly, or clothes upon my back." His face was dangerously close. "What is your name?"
Did she dare tell him? It occurred to Elise that he could use her true identity to his gain and her loss. He might turn her back over to her uncle in hopes of receiving a reward, or, worse, kidnap her and demand a high ransom for her return.
"Elise," she provided stiffly.
"Elise."
He said her name as if savoring it for flavor. He said it in a way that made her feel breathless and made her heart beat all the faster inside of her chest.
"The name suits you."
She wished he'd move off of the cot and, for God's sake, dress himself properly. She could scarce look at him that her eyes didn't go roaming of their own accord.
"Beast Tamer does