Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,122

Sitting upright again, she looked at him.

He appeared vastly differed from the man who had taken tea with her aunt earlier. Tension was coiled in his body. Anger was there in the bunching of his jaw muscles.

“I came as you were alone, Rory.”

“Timothy would have come back. You had no notion of what it was you were walking into. And please put that pistol away.” She’d dropped it on the seat beside her when she entered. “I have no wish for you to shoot me.”

“Why would I shoot you?”

“A weapon in the wrong hands is a dangerous thing.”

“I assure you I know how to fire it and am proficient. And I cannot put it away.”

“Why?” He was still testy, the word fired at her.

“It goes in the holster I had made that is strapped around my thigh.”

Something changed in that moment. Suddenly there was another kind of tension that sizzled and snapped in the air. In seconds, she was in his arms.

“You, miss, are reckless.”

She couldn’t have marshalled a coherent sentence if she tried, but as his mouth was now pressed to hers, there was no need to speak… no need at all.

Chapter Eleven

Rory knew he’d made a mistake the minute his lips touched Ivy’s. She felt like heaven in his arms. Emotion still gripped him from his encounter in Le Plaisir, and when combined with his need for this woman, he could not resist. Visions of laying her on the seat and stripping away her clothes to expose the soft skin and lush curves beneath had his body hard with need. She was innocent. He should not be ravishing her, and yet seemed unable to stop. Where one kiss stopped, another started, and Ivy was right there with him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as if to hold him closer. He couldn’t get enough of her. Parting her jacket, he slid a hand inside. A soft moan stopped him.

Jackson.

He wrenched his mouth from hers, his eyes shooting to Ivy’s brother. He still slept. Releasing her, he watched her fall back to her seat. Her eyes were dazed, lips red from his kisses.

“I’m sorry, that was inexcusable and should not have happened at any time, let alone with you brother in the carriage.” Rory didn’t want to look at her again. His body was hard, and suddenly Miss Arantxa Redfern was his every fantasy.

“I understand.”

“What?” He was a grown man, of course he could look at her. He could control himself, for God’s sake.

“I understand that you were in the grip of strong emotions and needed an outlet. I—ah, I sometimes am the same.”

She was giving him an escape route, and coward that he was, Rory took it.

“Yes, well, perhaps you are right. But getting back to what you did.”

“There is no further need to discuss that, as we are all safe here in the carriage.” She started fussing with her jacket, rebuttoning the ones he’d undone. Watching her neat, efficient movements did nothing to ease the hardness in his body. He wanted those hands on him.

“It was reckless,” Rory said, but his words were no longer thick with anger. What he actually felt in that moment was bewildered. He wanted Ivy desperately.

He’d ravaged her in a carriage with her brother sitting just a few feet away, for pity’s sake. Rory didn’t do things like that, and definitely not with an innocent.

“And I reiterate, we are safe, Mr. Haddon.” How could she appear composed when he was anything but? Had their kiss not affected her as it had him? Had she shared kisses before? The thought was not a pleasant one. He watched Ivy tuck the blanket around Jackson, and noticed her fingers trembled. Cad that he was, he was pleased to see that her composure was a façade.

“Those people need to be brought to justice, Ivy.”

“Yes, they do. What is the best course of action to take?” Her voice was polite, as if they were conversing about the weather and they’d not just shared heated kisses.

“I think you and your family must leave London. I would not put it past that woman to seek retribution, and especially if we start creating trouble for her. She also mentioned your name.”

“In what capacity?”

“In that she is a threat to you.”

“We are not leaving London this year, sir, and I’m sure you are mistaken. What threat could she pose to me?”

So polite, Rory thought. “She held your brother captive and sent you a blackmail note. You don’t think that was a