Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,11

since the moment he’d walked into Hinton’s offices. “You’re certain you don’t wish to strike up different terms, Mrs. X?” he purred.

Even through the haze of desire left by his masterful kiss, it hit her. Mayhap he wasn’t intending to shock her, after all. Perhaps he wanted to send her off running. “You’re trying to s-scare me,” she charged, her chest heaving, her breath sending up little circles of white into the air.

He folded his arms. “And?”

So he’d not deny it. Hmph. “And you’ll have to do a good deal more than a kiss as pleasant as all that to scare me.”

Surely it was a flicker of the night’s shadows that accounted for the ghost of a real smile upon his lips, full of genuine warmth and amusement. Also gone so quickly it likely was a trick of the elusive London moon. “Mile Lane Road, tomorrow at dawn. We’ll talk about whether or not I’ll help you with whatever sent you my way.”

Whether or not? That vague acknowledgment of their connection sent all residual haze of desire lifting. Why, he was intending to strike the terms. “This is not negotiable, Mr. Wylie,” she said impatiently. “I’ve already told you…”

He was already turning on his heel and stalking off.

Faye stared after his retreating frame. At three inches past six feet, his impressive height lent an aura of strength and power to him, and even standing out as he did, his black garments and midnight locks were no match for the London fog that threatened to envelope his frame.

The moment he was gone… he was gone. Leaving her with nothing but an address and the memory of that stolen moment of passion in Mr. Wylie’s arms. Her belly fluttered an excited dance as she recalled—

What in blazes are you thinking? Focus.

That dizzying desire might be enough for some women. However, she had far more pressing issues to attend to. And being distracted by the virile, well-versed-in-kissing Mr. Wylie certainly did not fit with those plans.

She firmed her mouth.

With that, Faye started on her way.

Chapter 4

Following his interaction outside of Newgate with Lady X, as he’d adjusted her name in his mind, Tynan made the trek through London down Marylebone Road.

He’d known the fey young woman about thirty-nine minutes in total now, and in that short time, Tynan had ascertained several key details about his rescuer.

One, her intentions were not those of retribution. She was entirely too soft, without the lines of resentment or the glint of hatred in her eyes, to mark her an enemy.

Two, she was innocent and trusting, a dangerous combination… for the woman.

And three, she was a lady, from the extravagant lining of her muslin cloak, to the satiny softness of her skin.

His touch had been a veiled attempt to explore her and confirm those suspicions. Yes, she spoke in cultured tones. But those, too, could be faked. Case in point being Tynan himself.

And, for that matter, she wasn’t a lady who scared easily. She’d recoiled, but had quickly found her footing when that drunkard had reached for her. And she’d not wilted under his embrace. Nay, just the opposite.

His body stirred. She’d kissed with a boldness and gripped him close.

Tynan gave his head a shake, dispelling those desirous musings, focusing on the reason she’d sought him out. People only ever had one purpose with him and for him, and those reasons were never honorable. It was the very nature of the work he dealt in, his role as guardian over those who’d been slated to live or die.

As for the kitten-sized lady who’d gotten him free, desperation lent even the highest-born women an artificial strength. Nor could there be any doubting that desperation drove her. After all, what else could account for one seeking him out in Newgate or for the tenacity she’d shown in the streets while following after him?

Entering the modest house he kept… or had kept for the past three years in this rough end of London, he found the inside dark. Empty. Apparently, the pair of servants, whom he’d paid an annual fee to keep this place, had proven anything but loyal.

Not that he should have expected any different.

Tynan stepped inside the darkened foyer and, after closing the door behind him, moved through the household, assessing the empty places where pictures had once hung, the walls now bare. The runners that had lined the floor had all been cleared. In short, with the dust that hung heavy in the air and the caked footprints