Not Without Juliet - By L.L. Muir Page 0,53

has worked. For a while anyway. Obviously, this dungeon was not in my plans."

"And just how many plans have you needed lately, sweet Juliet?"

She was just about to correct him, to tell him that no one calls her Juliet, but she realized the chills currently shooting through her were due to the way he’d said her name—again, with that lovely brogue.

While she watched his lips, waiting to hear her name again, she told him how she'd gotten from point a to point b—from shaking the feds to stalking her sister with binoculars, from outrunning the Gabby’s hitman to ending up in Gordon's dungeon. It sounded more like a list of people, and an animal, whose heads she’d damaged in one manner or another. The head butt she’d given the guard at the Castle Ross’s gate made her sound downright violent, even when she called it a Glasgow Kiss.

He looked more than a little doubtful, and she was almost relieved he didn’t think she could be so dangerous. Then she remembered the wolf's tooth and pulled it out of her sock.

"See? Proof." When he had no comment, she got nervous and started to ramble. "You probably thought I was making it all up—"

He dropped the candle and reached for her. His lips were on hers before the light sputtered out.

Just like her dream. And who knew? Maybe she was dreaming again. Her eyes were shut, his lips felt the same as they always did. She reached up and held onto his hard biceps as well as she could. They were huge.

The bars kept her from moving closer, but she raised her hands to his neck and was able to hang on better.

He pulled back enough to break the kiss.

"Stay with me,” he whispered.

"You always say that."

"I mean here. Right here. Stay with me here, until morning."

"You usually say, until it's over."

"I thought I'd change it up a bit. Keep you on yer toes."

"I'm already on my toes."

"Well, then, I've got ye where I want ye."

And he kept her where he wanted her for a good long while. Finally, she had to ask for a time-out because the bars were bruising her face.

“You know,” she said as they slid to the floor, still clutching each other. “If anyone studies the angle of the bruises on your face and compares them to the ones on mine, they’re going to know what we’ve been doing.”

“Well, here’s our first test then. Looks as if someone is coming.”

She looked over her shoulder and sure enough, the passageway was turning orange.

“Get ye back, lass. Cling to the far corner. If they believe we care for one another, they’ll use it against us. Quick now!”

She crawled away like she was told, staying as far away from the Halloween decoration as possible.

“Juliet,” Quinn whispered.

“What?”

“Your cellmate stinks to Heaven.”

She smothered a giggle, then smothered another when she thought about how silly it was to be giggling in such a place, especially if she considered what might happen in the morning. But for the moment, the man from her dreams was smiling at her, knowing full well she was not Jillian.

Their visitors, when they stopped at her cell door, were not smiling.

CHAPTER NINTEEN

"Ye've been summoned by Himself, madam. Best get on yer feet," said the man with the torch. Two burley dudes who could have bounced for Gabby any day, stood to either side of the door while Martin fiddled with the keys. She wondered if he was fumbling on purpose.

She looked over at Quinn. He was leaning casually against the far bars, but his eyes didn't miss a thing—not a thing about her, anyway. With more than just a candle's worth of light, it was hard for her to take her eyes off him too, until he gave a slight shake of his head, then looked at the visitors.

"The mighty Gordon has taken to harassing women now?” He smirked. “I canna wait to see what the neighbors think."

The guard closest to him kicked at his bars. "Quiet Ross. You willna be about long enough to discover what the neighbors think of anything."

Quinn just grinned. "No, I won't be around, but you will. I hope they are kind to you men when the castle is overrun."

"Don't mind him. Watch her," said the other. "Her husband says she's a slippery one."

Jules looked at Quinn and shook her head. Then she looked back at the goons.

"Husband?” she said. “I have no husband."

They laughed at her while they watched Martin fumbling with the keys.