Alexandra Benedict - [Too]

by Too Dangerous to Desire

  She started to tremble at the thought and captured the heart-shaped pendant at her throat, searching for comfort.

  But Adam squeezed her hand tight, reminding her she was not alone—and sending warm shivers darting down her spine.

  She eyed him askance. There was something different about Adam. The manner in which he presented himself had changed. There was more formality in his gait, his clothing. Even his sooty hair, sometimes wild with curls, was combed in a neat fashion.

  He looked like a peer. It made sense, though; he had to dress like one to attend the ball—how had he found her?—but he also behaved like a gentleman. He moved through the house with ease, as if he had strolled the passageways of similar abodes in the past. It wasn’t true, of course. The man lived a very simple life by the sea…yet he acted with comfortable confidence, even amid so much pomp and presentation—except for the occasional grimace that crossed his face.

  The party came to a stop.

  The big devil stepped away from the band and approached Adam. “We part here. Take her back to the castle. We’ll follow you shortly.”

  The castle?

  Evelyn watched the brood head back toward the ballroom. The younger devil offered her another charming smile—and a wink—in passing.

  She quickly lowered her head to avoid the flirtation.

  A low growl stemmed from Adam before he tugged at her hand. “Let’s go, Evie.”

  The couple absconded through another quiet corridor, then sneaked through a dark and secluded exit into the warm summer night.

  Chapter 17

  Evelyn was free.

  The buzz of night critters, the light whisper of a breeze had never sounded so lyrical. Her eyes swelled with moisture at the sight of a flurry of fireflies, dancing to the soft swell of the music drifting from the house. And the stars! The stars had never appeared so bright, so alive with pulsing light.

  She restrained her joy, though. She and Adam still had to traipse through the well-hewn grounds unnoticed before she truly distanced herself from him.

  Evelyn moved in quick strides across the green before Adam steered her beneath the shelter of an oak tree. Breathless, he needed a moment to rest.

  She eyed him warily. “What’s the matter?”

  He pressed his back against the tree and grabbed his midriff in support. “Nothing’s the matter. I’m fine.”

  “You’re in pain.”

  She examined the wide breadth of his torso, stared at the formal evening wear hiding his discomfort. She wished she could see past the layers of clothes to the grief that lay beneath.

  “They hurt you, didn’t they?” she said. “The henchmen?”

  A vivid memory filled her head: the henchmen burning his home, thrashing his body. She was sick with grief at the thought of what Adam had endured—and all because of her.

  “I’ll live,” he said softly.

  He tried to make light of the matter, discourage her from fretting. But he’d failed in the endeavor.

  Guilt overwhelmed her. Adam was in agony because of her, brutalized because he had tried to help her.

  Gripped with a burning desire to heal the man’s wounds, she reached out for him. “What did they do to you?”

  But he seized her wrist, preventing the ministration. “Don’t trouble yourself with my condition.”

  “Adam, let me help you.”

  “No.” He was winded. “It’s my job to help you.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. Adam was such a hefty man, filled with robust strength. Yet he was suffering. The torture he had endured must have been brutal.

  Wild images of cruelty stormed her weary brain. She shuddered at the morbid thoughts, tamped the wretched guilt in her belly. There would be time aplenty to make amends. First she had to make sure Adam was safe. He had escorted her thus far; now she had to see him to a restful haven.

  “Here.” She positioned herself next to him. “Take my shoulder.”

  Adam glanced at her sidelong. The shade of leaves covered his features, but she sensed his mulish expression.

  “Don’t be stubborn.” She curled her arm around his lower spine in encouragement. “Let me help you.”

  At length he resigned to her entreaty with a loud sigh and slipped a thick arm around her shoulders, hugging her for support.

  It was an intimate embrace, stirring feelings of warmth. To discourage the frantic flutters of her heart, she moved the discourse to another pressing matter:

  “How did you find me?”

  The couple treaded carefully across the lawn, a pair of shadows among so many.

  “I had a little help,” he said tersely.

  “From the men at the ball?”

  “That’s right.”

  His succinct responses indicated ill-will between him and his friends…Or were the frightening devils his friends?

  She wondered, “Are the men your comrades?”

  He let out a soft, choking laugh. “My worst enemies, in truth.”

  “But—”

  “There isn’t time to discuss the matter now. I have to get you away from here.” He guided her toward the procession of fine-crafted town coaches. “This way, Evie.”

  She dug in her heels. “No, we can’t!”

  “Trust me.”

  Trust him to steal a town coach? “Why can’t we make our way toward the woods?”

  “No, we have to get to the…”

  “The castle? What castle, Adam?”

  “You’ll be safe there.”

  “Where is there?”

  He stopped beside a regal vehicle, the family crest brilliant under flickering torchlight, and opened the door for her. “Get inside.”

  The driver didn’t even protest their raid. Was he asleep? Didn’t he realize he was being burgled?

  At her lengthy hesitation, Adam very unceremoniously cupped her posterior and nudged her inside the compartment.

  Flustered, Evelyn quickly scooted to the far end of the cushioned squabs and gathered her skirts. She expected Adam to take the seat opposite her, but he settled beside her instead, the heady musk of him filling her lungs like a divine perfume.

  Adam knocked on the roof. “Drive.”

  The vehicle departed the queue and slowly rolled down the pebbled road.

  Evelyn’s heart was in her throat. “I can’t believe we just appropriated a carriage!”

  “We didn’t steal it, Evie.”

  “The devil we didn’t!”

  “It belongs to my brother.”

  She gathered her brow. “You mean it belonged to your brother?”

  He was silent.

  Slowly she asked, “Adam, is your brother still alive?”

  “You assumed the man was dead, and I let you believe it.”

  Evelyn gasped. “But why?”

  The man tensed. She heard the audible shift in his breathing pattern, too. A deeper and heavier rhythm.

  “I quarreled with my brother four years ago. After the row, we parted. In a way I did lose him.”

  It baffled her, the fraternal strife. She had never quarreled with her sister. She didn’t even know what it felt like to be angry with Ella. “And now you’ve borrowed the man’s carriage?”

  “I needed his help to find you, Evie. He, too, is at the ball.”

  “Who is your brother?”

  He paused, then said, “The Duke of Wembury.”

  Evelyn’s eyes widened. “The ‘Duke of Rogues’?”

  He offered her a mordant smile. “I see my brother’s reputation precedes him.”

  Evelyn’s heart, her blood raced. This was Adam’s idea of protection? To take her from the hands of one villain and deliver her into the hands of another? The “Duke of Rogues” was an infamous scoundrel. The worst reprobate in England! How was she supposed to be safe behind his walls?

  “No!” She moved away from Adam and settled against the opposite squabs. “I won’t go to the duke’s castle.”

  Evelyn’s thoughts whirled. It dawned
on her that Adam was no ordinary man living off “a respectable family allowance,” as he’d termed it. He was the brother of a duke!

  And that meant Adam was also a member of the peerage. No wonder he had appeared so comfortable inside the royal house. He was used to living in a castle! And that’s how Adam had found her, too: through his brother. The duke had been invited to the ball; she remembered seeing his name on the guest list before she had run away from home—and into Adam’s arms.

  Adam maintained a firm fix on her with his eyes. “The duke won’t hurt you, Evie. He’s not like that anymore. He has a wife and a child now.”

  Rot! The duke had married four years ago, it was widespread truth, but Evelyn wasn’t a fool to think wedded life had changed the infamous villain. A husband’s right to abuse his wife was common law. She understood that better than any lovelorn girl about to make the wedding march. And she was not going to put herself at the mercy of such a man.

  “No, Adam. I won’t reside with another devil!”

  “He’s not a devil.” Adam said firmly, “And you must stay at the castle. You’ll be safe there. I will be with you.”

  But even that assurance did not offer her comfort. The more Adam confessed his past, the more she wondered if perhaps he was secretly like his ignoble kin. After all, how could one brother grow up to be the “Duke of Rogues” and the other not?

  “Let me go, Adam.”

  “Go where?”

  “I don’t know. Anywhere. I can—”

  “No!”

  She bit her bottom lip to hold her tongue.

  He sighed. “I’m sorry, Evie. I didn’t mean to be so curt.”

  She inhaled a steady breath before asserting, “I can make my own way in the world.”

  “How?”

  “I can work in a household as a cook or a housekeeper or a governess. But I won’t live with the duke or…”

  Her thoughts returned to the sinister-looking devils who’d assisted Adam in her rescue.

  “Who are the other men, Adam? The ones who helped you?”

  “They’re the duke’s brothers-in-law.”

  “You said they were your enemies.”

  “They are.”

  “Why?”

  He sounded disgruntled. “We had a disagreement—over a watch.”

  “A watch?” It didn’t sound like the sort of thing one had a disagreement over, but Evelyn wasn’t bothered by the pettiness. She was more perturbed by the mounting number of houseguests in the castle. “The duke’s brothers-in-law are going to be at the keep, too? Aren’t they?”

  She remembered the big devil’s order: Take her back to the castle. We’ll follow you shortly.

  She shivered at the thought of sharing a haven with them, too. “I don’t want to be near them, Adam. They’re so…so…”

  “Brutish?”

  “Yes, brutish. And sinister. They remind me of…”

  “Pirates?”

  “Yes, pirates—” Evelyn blinked. “They’re pirates!”

  That did it. Evelyn reached for the door.

  Adam wrested her hand from the latch and hauled her into his lap. “I’m afraid you’ll break your neck if you try to jump at this speed.”

  She glanced out the window to observe the quick movement of darting shadows. The thought of physical injury had not occurred to her. The only thought troubling her was the revelation that she was going to live with a band of rogues and pirates!

  “That’s why you’re a captain, isn’t it, Adam? You’ve been chasing the pirates at sea.”

  “I had to avenge my late wife’s memory.”

  She was filled with alarm. “What did they do to your late wife?”

  Evelyn imagined the four frightening brigands as they had circled the bed. What would they have done to her if Adam hadn’t been inside the room, too?

  “The pirates once robbed me of a fob watch: a watch Teresa had gifted me.”

  Oh. After hearing the account, she was a bit more at ease. But she was still anxious to distance herself from the intimidating brood.

  “I still don’t want to go to the castle.”

  “Have I mistreated you, Evie? Have I given you any cause to be wary of me?”

  He had not abused her. True. But she could not shake the nagging worry: What if Adam was like all the others? What if he had yet to hurt her?

  “Trust me, Evie.”

  But that was the hardest thing in the world for her to do: trust. Betrayed so many times in her twenty years, Evelyn didn’t think she could ever really trust someone again.

  And yet Adam had come to the ball to save her from the prince. If it had not been for his help, she would still be locked inside the gruesome coffin. She was grateful for his assistance. But she had to wonder why he had risked his life to come for her.

  Another dark thought entered her mind then.

  “You know who I am, don’t you?” she said quietly.

  “I do, Lady Evelyn.” His voice was low, a gruff whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me your real name?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me yours?” she rejoined, suddenly aware of the fact that she was sitting in his lap. Very comfortably, too.

  “I guess we both wanted to forget about the past.”

  What did he want to forget about? His late wife? His brother?

  She closed her eyes, confused. Adam was at odds with his kin, he’d clashed with a band of pirates…and yet he was in league with both parties!

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “What about the strife with your brother? The pirates? How did you all come together tonight?”

  “I made a promise to protect you; thus I have a duty. And I will do whatever it takes to uphold it.”

  “Even join forces with your enemies?”

  “That’s right.”

  She took in a steady breath. Words about “duty” and “protection” were foreign words to her. Other than her sister, Ella, no one had ever looked after her. It was hard for Evelyn to imagine a man with so much chivalry.

  The conflict inside her was wild. How could she inter herself within the castle walls with Adam and his notorious brother, the duke? And what about the band of brigands?!

  Her heart thumped harder at the prospect. She was in a terrible fix. A wicked soul was irredeemable. She knew firsthand. And a man so sinful he was dubbed the “Duke of Rogues” did not just change his corrupt ways—nor did a seafaring brood of cutthroats. How was she supposed to trust Adam to safeguard her against so many villains?

  How was she supposed to trust Adam?

  “Evie.”

  The crushing pressure around her midriff startled her.

  “Look at me, Evie.”

  She did, fierce panic in her blood, her breath.

  “You will be safe at the castle.”

  Evelyn was sincerely dubious. Besides, he had said she’d be safe at the cottage, too. Yet the henchmen had found her there.

  And they would look for her again.

  She didn’t doubt it. The prince would never give up the search for her. He would order the countryside ravished for word of her whereabouts. It was endless, his desire to obtain beauty and then destroy it. A sick and compulsive—and incurable—need to maim and kill.

  “The prince will find me again,” she said in a broken voice.

  “How? No one in the seaside village knows my real name, and the cottage was destroyed by fire. There is nothing left to reveal my true identity. The prince or his men will never think to look for you at the duke’s castle.”

  Talk about the quaint cottage had her feeling remorseful. “I’m sorry you lost your home, Adam.”

  “I don’t mourn for the cottage. All that I cared for is lost at sea.”

  His wife.

  Evelyn shifted in his lap. “What if the prince finds me?”

  “Do not underestimate the duke. My brother might have changed, but society still fears him. You will be secure within the keep’s walls.”

  No, she wouldn’t. She was
never going to be safe. The only haven left for her was the cold comfort of death. How many times was she going to learn that blasted lesson? There was no peace for her in this world. And she certainly wasn’t going to find it behind the Duke of Wembury’s chilling castle walls.

  “Let me go, Adam.” She scratched his hand at her waist. “Please!”

  “I can’t.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Why?”

  “I know you’re frightened, Evie, but I have a duty to safeguard you. I can’t let you go. I can’t leave you alone in the world.”

  There was a desperate need inside her heart to believe him—and a biting fear to mistrust him. And yet the need triumphed over the fear. Or perhaps fatigue encouraged her to surrender. Evelyn wasn’t really sure. But she stopped struggling with Adam, slumped against him with a loud sigh.

  “You’ll see, Evie. No harm will come to you.”

  Evelyn prayed, rather than believed, he would keep his word.

  Adam loosened his grip on her midriff and slowly moved his fingers across the silk of her skirt before he cupped her hand.

  His touch.

  His touch did not repulse her. She was awed by it every time he pressed his hands—or his lips—to her flesh. He brought her comfort with the whisk of a finger, disarmed her with the whisper of a word.

  It unsettled her…yet she did not pull away.

  She shivered at his tender caress. Her eyes absorbed the meaty strength of his palm. He fingered the dried blood smeared across her knuckles, where she’d struggled with the coffin.

  “I won’t let the prince hurt you again. I made a mistake thinking he would not find you at the cottage. But I won’t make that mistake again.”

  There was a roughness to his voice. And yet when he lifted her hand and kissed her wounded fingers, there was a softness to his manner. A dual nature, indeed.

  She closed her eyes and held her breath as he slipped another hand into her hair. His fingers brushed the knob of her spine at the base of her skull, drawing her closer.

  Hot lips pressed against her throat. “I promise, Evie, no man will ever hurt you again.”