In the Dark with the Duke by Christi Caldwell Page 0,51

handle and stepped inside the darkened space.

It was a moment before Lila registered she stood alone in the narrow hall. She cast a questioning look back to where Hugh hovered outside still.

His features were set in a mask, his gaze wary as he ducked his head in and peered around. And for one agonizing moment she expected he’d turn about and walk off . . . reneging on this plan she’d hatched. On the training he’d promised to provide.

And then he stepped inside. Reaching behind him, he drew the panel closed.

Lila’s heart pounded wildly, and that erratic knocking had nothing to do with the fact that she danced with the danger of discovery, here in her brother’s townhouse, and everything to do with their closeness in these impossibly small quarters.

Hugh caught the sides of her hood and pushed it, baring her face.

Butterflies swarmed as they invariably did because of this man.

He lowered his head close, and her eyelashes fluttered closed as she lifted her lips to meet his, as everything was forgotten: the reason for their being here. The lessons she needed. All she knew was a familiar wanting for this man . . .

Except Hugh brought his mouth close to her ear, so close that as he spoke, his lips brushed the sensitive flesh. “You must be desperate to brave invading some fine nob’s home and commandeering that space for your own lessons.”

“Determined,” she whispered, angling her neck back so that she might squarely meet his gaze. His piercing eyes that threatened to free her of her every secret continued to wreak havoc on her heart’s rhythm. She’d been desperate when she’d sought him out. Eager to learn and help those she loved. Lila shed her cloak and let it fall to the floor. “Desperation has nothing to do with us being here.” And desperation was something she knew a good deal about.

There’d been any number of times when Hugh had been awed and intrigued by Lila: the moment he’d spied her through the window. The following morn when she’d shown up, pressing him for lessons. When she’d faced down his partners.

This, however, this was the moment that would be how he forever remembered her.

Lila gathered up her cloak, folded it, and cleared a space on the dusty floor for a makeshift five-foot, narrow ring. She seated herself in the middle of the floor and proceeded to remove her boots until she was barefoot.

Clever woman.

She’d sense enough to mask her steps and avoid notice.

When she someday left and he wondered about the woman he’d once called Flittermouse, he’d think of her as she’d been, leading him on through London as if she were the princess of these streets and as capable at picking locks as she was at bending a man to her will.

It only raised further questions about Lila March, this mystery of a woman.

And God help him for the weak bastard his partners accused him of being; Hugh was hard-pressed to not be wholly enthralled by Lila’s ingenuity and stealth—and her commitment to the lessons. Even as he hated fighting and had, at first, been wholly opposed to instructing her, she’d a resolve born of reasons she didn’t want to share. Yet from an intuition that came from his time on the streets, he well knew something dark had driven her into his life. He could no more abandon her than he could quit the partners who’d rescued him.

As if feeling his stare, Lila set her boots along the wall and looked up. “What is it?” she whispered, a defensive little edge creeping into her dulcet contralto.

“This is what you’ve found for us?”

An adorable little frown pulled her lips down. “And just why shouldn’t it be conducive?” she countered, climbing to her feet. She lifted her gloveless, scarred fingers up one at a time as she spoke, ticking each item off on her list. “One, you tasked me with finding a place, and I did. Two, I trust a person should be prepared to maneuver about even in small quarters.”

He glanced around. The quarters she’d found them were decidedly small. “Is there a three?”

She swatted his arm. “Three, you’re wasting the little time we have with one another.”

“Consider me wary about finding myself hanged by some nobleman because I’ve gone and broken into his house.”

“I’ve broken into it,” she reminded him, pride layered into her voice.

Hugh scrubbed a hand down his face and stifled a laugh. “Damn if you aren’t the only one who’d find pride in