and selfish was a thrill just waiting there, beckoning in the sizzle of his gaze as he stared down at her.
Danger. You’re in danger, Justine.
He wouldn’t hurt her, not in the physical sense. However, no one would ever believe that Mulligan could be good for her. He was worldly and charming. Cunning. A man who dressed like a duke but traded in violence and crime. An elegant sword dipped in poison.
So why had she come here tonight?
“Stay,” he whispered and inched closer, and she held her breath. “Stay and I’ll make all your darkest dreams come true.”
Lust tore through her, a pulse of fire and need that centered between her legs. A battle waged inside her like two sides of a coin. Heads was sin and debauchery, the wicked man in front of her. Tails was life beyond these walls, the real world in which she lived with responsibilities and conventions. In this moment she wasn’t sure which side she favored.
Hot breath hit her skin an instant before she felt the rough, wet tip of his tongue press to the sensitive spot behind her ear. She gasped and stumbled backward, shocked.
Sweet Lord. He’d licked her. Her gaze locked with his, and she expected to see a smug arrogance reflected there.
Instead, she found raw, naked desire.
Fumbling behind her, she clutched the knob and turned. Then she hurried into the hall, nearly running to the stairs. A man stood at the landing but she didn’t acknowledge him. She merely lifted her skirts and flew down the steps. Toward the street. Toward safety. She didn’t care if anyone followed. Her only thought was to escape.
But you liked it. Go back so he may continue.
No, she told her inner voice. That was impossible. Justine didn’t belong with Mulligan. It was like Little Red Riding Hood choosing the wolf over her grandmother. It made no sense. They made no sense.
A boxing match was in full swing as she darted through the club’s main room. Thankfully, no one paid her any attention. Once out the front door, she tried to dodge the two young men on the stoop.
“Ho!” One of them caught her arm.
“Let me go.”
He instantly released her but the other guard stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Beg your pardon, Miss Greene, but you can’t be runnin’ the streets of the neighborhood at this hour.”
“I will hire a hack. I’ll be fine.”
The first boy jerked his thumb at the brougham parked up the street. “We’ll have Rye take you wherever you need to go.”
“That’s not necessary—”
“Miss, if we let you tear out of here, alone, Mulligan’ll string us up by our toenails. Please, take the carriage.”
They both looked young and sincere, and Justine didn’t wish to cause them trouble with their employer. “Fine.”
Satisfied, one of the guards ran inside, presumably to find Mr. Rye. Justine tried not to fidget as they waited. She watched the boxing match through the glass panes at the front of the club. The flurry of fists and feet was dizzying, a battle so primitive it was beautiful. The fighters’ bare chests, one light and one dark, dripped with sweat, their attention focused solely on each other. Spectators surrounded the ring, cheering and shouting, some even shoving one another. This was Mulligan’s world, where men battled for dominance with their fists.
What was she doing here? And why in God’s name was she so fascinated by it?
“Hello, miss.” Rye came up alongside her. “Just give me your address and we’ll get you home all nice, safe and sound.”
Safe and sound. In another word, boring.
Was that how everyone saw her? Was that how he saw her?
She blinked up at the brightly lit windows on the second floor. Mulligan stood there, expressionless, leaning against the window, a glass of beer in his hand as he watched her below. He made no effort to look away.
How long had he been standing there?
He hadn’t seemed surprised when she’d fled the club. Hadn’t come after her, either. Perhaps the touch of his tongue had been meant to scare her. To prove she wasn’t strong enough to handle what was between them.
If so, he underestimated her.
Justine was much stronger than she appeared. He’d caught her off guard, was all.
And while he may be a wolf in fancy clothing, she was no innocent lamb looking to get slaughtered. She could take care of herself. That meant staying away from Great Jones Street and Mulligan.
She gave him a jaunty salute then started for the brougham. Good luck,