away on the ice-cold breeze swirling through the alley. Her blue eyes were wide as they looked into his. Although he noted a hint of fear lingering there, she stood tall, her shoulders pulled back, her jaw squared. She would not cower or beg, his little mouse!
Pierce admired her for the determination that seemed to lie at the base of every one of her decisions—no matter how foolish!
“Hey, man, what d’ya say?” one of the men behind him demanded, impatience seeping into his voice.
Pierce’s hands on her waist tightened, and he watched her lips part on a little gasp. “Sorry, fellas,” he growled at the men, his gaze never once veering from the woman in his arms. “The lady is mine.”
At the possessiveness in his voice, her gaze narrowed and, yet, he could feel a slight tremble dance down her spine, suggesting that she, too, had noticed the sparks lingering in the air between them. After all, she did not rebuke him or try to slip from his grasp. No, she remained where she was, her heart beating against his own.
“But we saw her first!” the other man insisted, shuffling closer.
Drawing in an annoyed breath, Pierce forced his hands to drop from her middle. Then he lifted his head and slowly turned to face the two blighters who’d followed Caroline into the alley. The moment they saw his mask, the expressions on their faces froze.
Doubt seeped in where before there’d been only bravado, their instincts dulled by the spirits they’d consumed.
“W-Who are ya, m-man?” the one with the woolen hat stammered.
Pierce’s eyes remained hard as they moved from one to the other before he reached inside his cloak. “That is none of your concern,” he growled, noting the way both men were all but quaking in their boots. Then he drew forth the small dagger he always carried.
The men’s eyes widened when they saw it, doubt turning to fear as they shrank backward.
“I suggest you find amusement elsewhere.”
For a moment, they hesitated. When Pierce advanced on them, their paralysis vanished in an instant. Spinning on their heels, they scurried out of the alley on unsteady feet.
A dark chuckle left Pierce’s lips before he turned around to look upon his little, grey mouse.
Her eyes were still narrowed, and they moved to touch upon the gleaming blade of his dagger. Even in the near dark here in the alley, it had a shine to it, and he wondered if she would now back away. Had he frightened her as well?
Her throat worked, but she remained where she was, her chin lifting a fraction as though she were willing herself to maintain an outward appearance of calm. Still, the soft tremble in her lower lip suggested that she was anything but calm. If he were a gambling man, Pierce would bet all he owned that her pulse was thudding wildly in her veins as it never had before.
Holding her gaze in the shrouded darkness of the alley, Pierce re-sheathed his dagger. Then he moved toward her once more, each step echoing like a clap of thunder between them. He could see her tremble with it, not because she feared him, but because she feared…his nearness.
Pierce, too, felt oddly unhinged, drawn to her as though he had no choice in the matter. I didn’t have a choice. Her earlier words drifted into his mind, and he finally understood what she’d meant. If his life had depended on it, he could not have moved away from her. His feet guided him to her as his own pulse began to pound in his veins.
Even under the heavy cloak, he could see her chest rise and fall with each rapid breath. Her hood had slid backward a little, revealing dark curls dancing down her temples, glistening with snowflakes as they slowly descended from the heavens, settling upon her head like diamonds. She looked almost ethereal, like a fairy not of this world. So very different from the little, grey mouse he’d first encountered.
Yet, at her core, she was the same woman. He could see it in her eyes. Only here, in this moment, she was free. She was herself. Not the persona she had invented in order to…
If only he knew.
“Thank you,” she suddenly whispered like someone grasping for straws, someone desperately searching for something to say. He could see her all but leaning backward, leaning away from him as though she wished she could retreat but did not dare.
That sudden sign of weakness mixed with the