Noble Scoundrel - Amy Sandas Page 0,6
the property housed the business of a ruthless moneylender revered and feared for going undefeated in the underground bare-knuckle boxing circuit. A beast of a man named Mason Hale.
But she’d overridden all of his objections. What on earth did any of that matter when her brother was lost and alone in London? If Frederick had truly fallen into such dangerous hands, she wasn’t about to be left waiting at home for word on whether or not her brother had been found and freed.
Watching the brief, unmatched fight between Hale and Boothe, she’d been forced to acknowledge the danger of the situation. But she’d come prepared.
When the sound of her pistol hammer being pulled back drew Hale’s attention, she’d been momentarily stunned by the raw intensity in the man’s eyes. Violence emanated from him. And he didn’t even try to tame it. He appeared to revel in his own brutishness.
Having lived her life in the country, she’d seen farmers and laborers at their work. She knew several large men with barrel chests and huge forearms who would have shuddered at the idea of using their strength for violence. They were gentle giants in comparison to this man whose body had obviously been honed in battle rather than in the fields.
Tall and exceptionally broad of shoulder, Hale had a chest that was less barrel-like and more...brick wallish. Immoveable and imposing. His arms were nearly as thick as a blacksmith’s and his hands were large. His face was bold and squarish with a slightly crooked nose, a hard jaw, and wide lips. His brow was heavy, shadowing eyes that sparked with power.
When he’d walked toward her, each stalking step he’d taken had increased the rate of her heartbeat.
It was fear, yes, but also an acute anticipation unlike anything she’d felt before.
Because she hadn’t known what he would do.
He was brute force and casual control. Considering his size, he should have been slow and clumsy; instead he was grace and strength in perfect harmony. His raffish appearance and tilted grin accompanied thick, gravelly words spoken in a rough, Londoner accent. Yet Hale’s confidence and blatant irreverence suggested he was more than someone’s hired muscle, and he’d barely blinked when she offered to pay him what was likely to be a small fortune. In fact, he’d looked almost amused. And then he’d so quickly and so frustratingly claimed physical advantage while managing to avoid hurting her. His control was evident and somehow that made her even more nervously aware.
The former boxer obviously enjoyed using his excessive brawn to maintain the upper hand. But Katherine wasn’t about to let him intimidate her.
Ignoring the sheer overwhelming size of the man, his rough handsomeness, his hard stare, and the male-scented heat that emanated from his person, she stiffened her jaw. “What is your demand?”
He cocked his head. “My demand?”
“What will it take for you to release him?”
“Hmm.” The gravelly, earthy sound vibrated in the breathless inches between them, seeping heavy and warm into her core. “What are you willing to give, sweet dove?”
Her tongue suddenly felt thick in her mouth. “I told you—”
“Ah, yes.” He chuckled. A dangerous sound. “Triple what I was paid to take him. Right?”
She nodded, feeling something strange stirring inside her. Deep in her center.
“Well, then...you’re in luck.” He lifted the hand he had been bracing against the wall beside her shoulder to graze his knuckles along her jaw before tracing the outer curve of her ear with the tip of his finger.
Tingling sparks spread out from his touch, giving rise to gooseflesh across her skin. Katherine had never in her life been touched in such a way. She had no idea how to react. What to think. In the absence of a ready alternative, she simply stared up at him, trying to appear unmoved.
When he spoke next, it was in a coarse and weighted murmur. “How do I know you’re not a threat to him?”
She blinked at the question. “What? Why would I be a threat?” Her brow furrowed. “Do not try to confuse me, Mr. Hale. I will not be deterred.”
“Hmm.”
Again, that sound.
He slid his hand to cup her nape, urging her to tip her head back even farther. Then he lowered his head toward hers. Her belly tightened. His broad features were harsh in the deepening darkness, but an intriguing force flickered in his steady gaze. She wished it wasn’t too dark to determine the color of his eyes. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” he mused. “Too clever for your