Waiting for a Rogue Like You (Rogues of Redmere)

by Samantha Holt

  “You want to tell me who that man is?”

  “I—” Another tremor wracked her.

  “Never mind. Let’s get you to safety.”

  He escorted her to the inn and up to her room. She drew out the key, but her fingers trembled so badly that she could not get the key into the lock. Gently, he took it from her and turned it in the door, easing it open and ushering her inside. He made quick work of lighting several candles.

  Julianna stood by the closed door, her arms wrapped about herself. Her chin trembled, and her face was ashen.

  He shook his head. “I cannot help you unless you tell me what that was about.”

  Her gaze met his, those dark eyes filled with a hopelessness that dug a little more of the hole she was already boring into his heart. He drew her into him, wrapping his arms completely around her. She fit snugly against him while spasms wracked her intermittently. He waited, listening to her juddering breaths until they eased.

  He rubbed a hand up and down her back and felt the tension ease from her body. If this were any other time, he’d be taking advantage, pushing back into that kiss that had him not knowing which way was up and which was down. If this were any other woman, he’d have her on her back by now.

  But not Julianna. Because as much as he wanted more of those astonishing kisses, he wanted her to feel safe. This woman was different. He smirked to himself. He should have known. What other woman could shout at him and scold him for trying to help her and get away with it? Whatever the problem was, he’d be damned if he was going to let her live in fear. He’d do whatever it took to protect her.

  Easing back, he held her by her shoulders and made her look him in the eyes. “Will you be well?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, thank you.” Her voice was a hard shadow of itself and her eyelids dropped from exhaustion. No doubt the rush of fear was fading quickly, leaving her drained.

  “Julianna, you need to tell me—”

  She nodded. “I will. Just...just not now. In the morning,” she promised.

  “Very well.” On impulse, he gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Nothing will happen to you,” he vowed. “Not while there is breath in my body.”

  She nodded again and gave him a half-hearted smile.

  “Lock the door behind me,” he ordered before he left the room.

  He waited until he heard the clunk of the key. If they had not been interrupted, he’d have had no doubt they’d have been continuing this in his bed—Knight’s sister or not. Hell, he’d bear Knight’s wrath for Julianna. With ease. She’d be worth every broken rib and bruise.

  He’d planned to stay on the ship tonight. With calm waters in the harbor and no rain or wind whipping up a storm, he would have slept peacefully enough. But he needed to be here for Julianna, so he’d have to beg his usual room off Louisa. He trudged downstairs. At least playing Julianna’s protector would help him forget the blood. He curled a fist and paused to take a breath at the bottom of the stairs.

  The images had faded as soon as he’d kissed her. The memories of the acrid scent of blood, the sounds of cannon fire and pistol shot. They’d all drifted away into nothing and been replaced by the scent of a soft, clean woman. He’d swear he could still taste her on his tongue. She kissed like he would have expected—with fire and determination—but nothing could have prepared him for that. Julianna Knight had him well and truly at her mercy.

  He found Louisa in the taproom, cleaning the almost empty room. One lone patron remained, slumped over a table, his snores rattling the rafters. She wrung out a cloth and wiped around the man.

  “Do you ever rest?” He leaned against the doorframe.

  She turned and smiled at him. “Do you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “We had a few guests arrive tonight and with Amy sick again, I had to stay up,” she explained, tucking the cloth into her apron and heading toward the bar.

  Drake straightened. “Not two men? One tall with gray hair?”

  Louisa shook her head. “No, a man and a woman. Both short.”

  Good. Whoever it was who was looking for Julianna was not here.

  “Let me guess, you’d like a whiskey.” She’d pulled out a bottle and two glasses before he could say no. He gave a shrug.

  “It wouldn’t hurt. Just one, though.”

  She arched a brow.

  “And my room.”

  Louisa eyed him. “It’s not stormy tonight.”

  Settling onto a barstool, he took the drink she offered. “I know.”

  She masked a yawn behind a hand and came to join him on the other side of the bar. Louisa knew well enough that he only stayed at the inn when he could not sleep on his ship. When the wind and sea battered it, it reminded him too much of battle. Of how a cannon blast had rocked the ship he’d commanded, of how it had torn it apart.

  It was funny, though, that being at sea was different. He could cope with the waves and the weather because when he was out at sea, he was in command. He was the master of the waves, in charge of whether he lived or died.

  He glanced at the innkeeper as he took a sip of whiskey, feeling it slide down his throat and warm his gut. If Louisa understood the reason for him staying at the inn, she never said, and for that he was grateful.

  “At least now I have Julianna, I can stay abed in the morning. She’s becoming quite invaluable. I hope she does not run back to wherever she came from.”

  “Northumberland,” he commented.

  “Well, I know that, but do you know anything more of her?”

  He peered at Louisa. “She must talk to you, surely?”

  Louisa shook her head. “I’ve told her she can, but she has remained quiet about it all. It does make me wonder what happened there, though, for both Knight and Julianna to run.” Louisa chuckled. “Who’d have thought Knight would have such a beautiful, refined sister?”

  “They are certainly nothing alike,” he agreed.

  “And has Knight said anything? About his sister or why they left?”

  “You know Knight. If he says anything, it’s few and far between. They come from money, that much I can conclude. Came as quite a shock to us all considering Knight’s barbaric manners.”

  “Oh, he is not so barbaric,” she said softly.

  Drake shook his head and grinned. “If you say so.” Throwing back the rest of the whiskey, he ducked behind the bar and snatched up the key for his usual room. “It’s been a long day. I think I’d better turn in. And so should you.” He gave Louisa an impulsive kiss on the cheek, laughing when she scowled at him.

  “Don’t think you can charm me, Drake, I’m immune to you.”

  “I would never assume otherwise. Sleep well, Louisa.”

  “And you, Drake.”

  He left her nursing a drink and headed upstairs again. Pausing outside of Julianna’s room, he listened. Nothing but the drip of a tap and the creak of the old building greeted him. Hopefully she was able to sleep. He’d never seen the bold woman so terrified and he hoped to never have to see it again. Whoever that man was that had scared her so, Drake would have to ensure that did not happen again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tugging her hair into a braid, Julianna looped a ribbon around it and pulled it tight. Dark rings haunted her eyes and they felt dry and itchy. Sleep had eluded her for most of the night and when she had finally fallen asleep, her dreams had been strange—a combination of kissing Drake and being discovered by John and her world crumbling apart.

  Kissing Drake had been a mistake. “A big mistake,” she told her reflection. “And do not forget it.” She jabbed a finger at the woman in the mirror, but the woman merely lifted a brow as if to say, ‘was it really a mistake?’

  It had to be. She had not come here looking for love or romance. And Drake was not the sort of man to do either anyway. She’d already seen how he was with women. She did not much fancy being one of the many on his list, no matter how perfect that kiss had been.

  She sucked in a breath and
glared at the red stain blossoming on her cheeks as she thought about the kiss. She had bigger things to worry about than kisses, for goodness sakes.

  A tangle of knots tugged in her stomach, reminding her of her predicament. If John found her...

  Lifting her chin, she patted her hair and opened the door, drawing it shut then locking it behind her.

  “Princess.”

  She whirled with a strangled cry. A hand to her chest, she glared at Drake. “You scared me.”

  He pushed away from the wall and gave her a rueful smile. “Forgive me.”

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough.”

  She cocked her head. “You do not have better things to do with your time than wait around outside ladies’ bedrooms?”

  He grinned. “I’d rather be waiting inside.”

  Julianna shook her head but could not prevent a smile from teasing her lips. Drake had not changed one jot and that was something of a comfort when her world had been turned upside down and could very well change again if John discovered her.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “You know what.”

  More kisses. The words flashed into her mind and she dropped her gaze briefly to his mouth.

  “Definitely,” he agreed. “But another time.”

  Had she said the words aloud or was he a mystic? She narrowed her gaze at him.

  He gave a shrug. “You are terribly obvious sometimes, Princess.”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Definitely. It’s one of my better traits,” he said smugly.

  “I have work to do, you know.”

  “No one is up yet. You can spare me a few minutes to explain why I had to smuggle you off the ship and lie to a stranger.”

  Her mouth dried at the mention of John. A shiver cast its icy touch up her spine. Swallowing, she nodded. “I will. Come downstairs.”

  Drake followed her into the kitchen and she made them a cup of tea each and handed him one. “Let’s sit in the private taproom,” she suggested.

  He nodded, and they moved into the small room intended for richer guests who wanted privacy with their visiting party. The embers in the grate still glowed and she threw several logs and kindling on and gave the fire a stoke. They caught quickly, warming the darkened room. Drake sat and waited for her, even as she took her time to warm her hands in front of the flames. There was no putting it off, she supposed, and she did owe him an explanation, but she had so hoped to put this whole nasty mess behind her.

  He could be trusted, though. She was certain of that. Perhaps not with her body...or even her heart. But with her secrets, yes.

  She sat down opposite him and took a sip of sweetened tea. “I—” She paused and lifted a hand. “The man you met last night. The man who was searching for me is John Slade. John is...was...no, is I suppose, my fiancé.”

  Drake’s expression darkened. “You’re engaged.”

  “I was. I mean, I still am in some ways. But I do not wish to be.”

  Creases appeared between his brows. “Princess?”

  “Forgive me, I am doing an awful job of explaining this.” She cupped her hands around the warm drink in an attempt to dispel the awful chill that invaded her whenever she recalled John’s steely eyes or his iron grip. “My father is in a lot of debt. He was always determined to live up to the family name, no matter how much it cost us. John is a rich baron. A match between us would have suited my father well.”

  “So it was an arranged match?”

  “Yes.”

  Drake’s posture eased a little. “A match you did not want, I presume?”

  “There were rumors surrounding John—that he had pushed his wife down the stairs. None could prove it and he said she tripped. A serving girl later confirmed the story before she disappeared. Some said she was paid to vanish, but I feared otherwise.”

  “Christ.”

  Julianna nodded. “I was already terrified of the match, but my father insisted it was just silly rumors and I must marry him. When John caught wind of my reluctance to marry him. He was...well...he was angry.”

  Drake’s fingers tightened around the cup. She saw his knuckles whiten. His clenched jaw. “Did he hurt you?”

  She touched a hand to her neck before she realized what she’d done.

  “He did, did he not?”

  There was no denying it. What was the point? “He pushed me up against a wall and threatened me. Said he would tarnish my father’s name if I denied him. Told me I had no choice and I would submit to him.” She swallowed. “And he was right. I had no choice. My father cared little for whether I was happy with the match so long as he got his money. When he tried to...to force himself upon me, I fought him off and I ran. I knew Knight was here from his letters, so I gathered a few belongings and what little coin I had, and I fled.”

  She heard Drake draw in a heavy breath. He stood abruptly, the chair screeching against the floorboards. He turned his back to her. “By God, I should have killed him yesterday.”

  “No, you should not. He’s an important man, and I would not see you hung for murder.”

  Facing her once more, he eyed her. “You were terrified of him last night,” he stated. “I should have known he’d done something terrible. You’re the most courageous person I know.”

  “That’s not true,” she whispered. She’d been scared for most of the journey here and for much of her time staying in Cornwall. Scared that John would find her. Scared that she could not make a life for herself here. She glanced at Drake. Scared that she would fall for a rogue.

  “I’ll find him,” he vowed. “And I’ll gut him. You need never fear him again.”

  Julianna stood and put a hand to his arm. “No. Please. It is too dangerous for you to touch him. Hopefully he will not find me, and he will return to the borderlands emptyhanded.”

  “And if he does find you?”

  “I will stay here. I’m safe here. I can hide if he comes in.”

  “That’s not good enough. You should not have to spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder, in fear of a man. And he should not have laid a damned finger on you.”

  His fierce expression dug deep into her heart. Did he think because he’d kissed her, he owed her something? She could not let herself believe anything else. After all, this was Drake. Her brother had warned her away and she’d seen enough with her own eyes to know he could never want her for anything more than kisses or as a bed partner.

  “It is not your problem, Drake,” she said softly.

  “Like hell it isn’t. It became my problem the moment you...” He shoved a hand through his hair. “This is my problem, Princess, and don’t you tell me otherwise.”

  “I—” There was a bellow from the main taproom. Julianna sighed and pointed a finger at Drake. “Do not do anything rash. I mean it.”

  She pushed open the door to find the first customers of the day waiting at a table. She’d have to make haste if she was to get the morning meals ready. Plastering on a smile, she greeted them and took their orders. When she returned to the kitchen, Drake followed her through.

  “You should tell Louisa that you cannot work today. What if he comes in?”

  “I am certainly not telling her that. Do you not think I don’t know what a favor she has done for me? Especially with what a disaster I was at first? I will not let that man send me into hiding.”

  “Your courage has risen since last night,” he mused. “You cannot fool me for a second. I know you’re still scared of him.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I am. There is little I can do about it, but I will not let him ruin my life here.”

  Drake shook his head. “That’s not good enough. He needs to pay for ever touching you.” He took a step forward and skimmed a finger over her neck. She stilled, a tingle of pleasure hurtling through her at the touch. “He touched you here, did he not? I noticed you put a hand to your neck.”

  She nodded, words
evading her. His eyes were soft and delving as though looking through her very soul. She realized he smelled of soap. With how wrapped up in her own worry, she had hardly taken the time to notice Drake, but she was noticing now. His shirt open at the neck, his waistcoat fitting perfectly around his abdomen, his jacket emphasizing that wide chest that had wrapped around her so protectively last night...she noticed it all now.

  Julianna darted back, her rear bumping into a table and making the plates on it rattle. The haze dissipated. “I must get to work.”

  She slipped past him and out into the taproom to pour the drinks. Meals would have to wait a moment, at least until Drake had gone. She could not remain in a small room with him—it was simply too dangerous. Her heart pulsed hard to remind her exactly what was at risk.

  “This isn’t over,” he warned her, retrieving his hat that she had not even noticed was there from the bar.

  She opened her mouth to protest but he had gone, leaving nothing but a breeze of wind and a slamming door. Palms pressed against the worn wood of the bar, she eyed the various notches in it. She could not decide who was more dangerous to her person now. John or Drake? John might want to hurt her physically, but scars healed. She feared Drake was already etching himself on her heart, and there would be no recovering from that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The scent of fish hung strong over Penshallow. Though cold, the day proved clear with blue skies and a few puffy clouds above. Drake stopped to survey the beach which was littered with seaweed that the higher tide had left overnight. One long stone pier led out toward the sea, a lone lantern at the end that was lit at night to guide ships into the harbor. He strolled down it until he reached the end. Penshallow had been his home since Red had recruited him and he appreciated the rhythm of life here, the predictability. For a seafaring man, there was something pleasant about knowing exactly what would happen when he returned.

  He curled his hand around the iron railing that lined the end of the pier.