Noble Scoundrel (Peril & Persuasion Book 1)

by Amy Sandas

  “Here.” Frederick turned them off the sidewalk toward a modest-looking brownstone, and though she’d only been there once before and in a distressed state, she realized in an instant where he’d brought them.

  Back to Mason Hale.

  “Frederick, I don’t think this is a good idea,” she started, but the boy ignored her to rap sharply on the door. “We should hail a hack and return to the house.”

  He turned toward her. His sharp gaze took in the way she held her arm cradled in front of her. Though she tried to hide the extent of her pain, it appeared she wasn’t successful as his jaw tensed and he replied curtly, “You need attention and Mayfair is too far away. We’ll be safe here,” he added quietly just as the door was thrown open.

  Katherine looked up into the harsh features of Hale himself.

  As he took note of their appearance, his broad, rough-hewn features shifted from an expression of mild annoyance to a sudden fearsome intensity. “Get inside.”

  His gruff command offered no room for dissent.

  They stepped into the entryway, and as the door was closed behind them, Katherine felt a distinct moment of relief. Turning to face the man who stood filling the narrow space of the hall, she was struck again by the size of the former boxer, made all the more dramatic in comparison to her brother’s slim form.

  “My sister’s been injured. Is there someplace she can rest?”

  There was a slight pause as Hale slid an assessing glance down the full length of Katherine’s body. She wasn’t sure what she saw flickering in the depths of green, but her dizziness suddenly escalated.

  In fact, now that they were no longer focused on making a mad dash through London, the pain she’d been holding at bay also increased dramatically.

  “Upstairs,” Hale finally replied. “End of the hall.”

  “Thank you,” Frederick replied as he started forward.

  “We’ll be on our way as soon as possible,” Katherine added.

  Hale’s response was a furrow of his brow and a short grunt.

  Trying not to reveal her growing weakness, Katherine turned to follow her brother. But as soon as she tried to ascend the stairs on her twisted ankle, a shot of pain caused her leg to give beneath her. She reached for the railing, but before she could grasp it, Hale was there scooping her up.

  She hissed in a sharp breath as his maneuver jostled her shoulder. “I can walk,” she insisted through gritted teeth.

  He ignored her, taking the steps two at a time, passing Frederick along the way. Katherine cradled her injured arm and breathed hard through her nose to dispel the pain. But in doing so, she took in large doses of Hale’s scent—masculine and earthy and not altogether unpleasant. She chanced a quick glance at his face and noted the rugged set of his features, the hard line of his jaw, and the pulse in his throat above his open collar.

  For some reason, that pulse intrigued her. The sight of it held her pain-clouded mind enthralled.

  Until he lowered his gaze.

  Then she became trapped in the depths of his eyes...so dark and rich and...sensual.

  Only the slow curving of his lips managed to drag her attention away from that gaze. Unfortunately, the sensuality in his smile was ten times more potent, and Katherine had to close her eyes against the force of it as her belly began to swirl and her skin grew warm.

  The sound he made then—that low hum in his chest—made it infinitely worse. She could only hope he believed her distress was caused solely by her injuries, but she feared that knowing smirk of his said otherwise.

  Long strides took them down the upper-level hallway, and a moment later they entered a small room.

  Opening her eyes, Katherine noted the bedroom’s pale-pink-and-eggshell color scheme that kept in theme with the rest of the house as Hale carried her straight to the bed. When he bent forward to lay her on the soft rose-colored bedspread, his expression revealed a hint of quiet concern.

  “What happened?” Hale asked as her brother rushed into the room behind them.

  There was a long silence as Frederick met Katherine’s gaze in question. It was clear her brother trusted him, but Katherine was reluctant to involve Hale any further in their troubles. He’d done a great deal already by taking Frederick in, yet he was essentially a stranger and wasn’t responsible for them.

  As the silence continued, Hale looked over his shoulder at the boy. “You came here for a reason, Freddie. Out with it.”

  “Frederick,” Katherine said before her brother could reply, “would you please fetch me a glass of water? I’m feeling a little off.”

  Her brother looked like he wanted to resist, but then Hale turned to him as well. “And a bottle of whiskey. From the study off the dining room.”

  After sending a quick glance at Hale and then back to her, Frederick nodded and left the room. Katherine and Hale stared at each other—she from her reclined position against the pillows and he from his great height as he stood alongside the bed—while the sound of Frederick’s footsteps receded down the hall.

  Once assured her brother was out of hearing range, Katherine spoke. “I’ll not allow you to bully my brother, Mr. Hale. Though I appreciate what you did for him, you have no authority over him...or me.”

  The man responded to her declaration with a lifted brow as he crossed his thick arms over his chest. “What happened?”

  She closed her eyes for a second. What had happened? She wasn’t even entirely sure, but as the incident replayed through her mind, she got a horrible, heavy sinking feeling in her stomach. When she opened her eyes again, it was to find Mr. Hale staring intently down at her, his arms crossed over his great chest.

  Then he arched a tawny brow. “Did you fall from a cliff? Tumble down a flight of stairs? Leap from a galloping horse?”

  Not liking his flippant tone, she retorted, “A carriage, actually. And then I was kicked by a horse.”

  His countenance darkened. “That wasn’t very smart.”

  She clenched her teeth. The man’s insistence on chiding her while her ankle throbbed and pain shot through her shoulder down to her fingertips was working over her last nerve. “If you must know, we were accosted while out shopping.”

  His tawny brow went higher and he tilted his head. “Accosted?”

  Katherine adjusted her arm into a more comfortable position, wincing at the pain the slight movement caused. “Two men commandeered our carriage. Thieves, I imagine.” Even as she made the suggestion, something inside her rejected it. “We had to leap free in order to escape.”

  A frown deepened the lines between his brows. “You seriously jumped from a moving carriage?”

  “It was entirely necessary, I assure you,” she retorted.

  When she said nothing else, Hale flicked a glance at her shoulder. “It’s dislocated.”

  “I know.”

  The corner of his mouth pulled back. “Then you know what has to be done.”

  “Yes, and if you would just call for a doctor to attend me, we’ll be on our way all the faster.”

  “There’s no telling how long it’ll take for a doctor to come round and no guarantee he’ll be fit to do his job.”

  Katherine frowned. “Then perhaps you could obtain a hack? I’ll call for a doctor once I’m home.”

  “You can’t wait that long.”

  “Just what do you suggest?” she snapped, losing patience with the argument and the painful discomfort of her situation.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  She looked up in surprise. “No. You will not.”

  His sigh was heavy with annoyance. “I’ve tended more injuries during my years in the ring than most doctors do in their entire careers. The longer you suffer in your current state the more chance there is for lasting damage. I’ll tend to you.”

  The thought of him putting his large, calloused hands on her person, even to relieve her significant pain, caused her body to flush with heat and resistance.

  But he was right. She couldn’t remain a
s she was.

  Before she could voice her agreement, Frederick strode back into the room. He handed the glass of water to Katherine before turning to give the bottle of whiskey to Hale.

  “Go visit with Claire.” Hale nodded toward the door. “She’ll be happy to see you.”

  “But...” the boy began as he glanced toward Katherine.

  Before she could assure him herself, Hale stated gruffly, “You brought her to me. I’ll see to her.”

  Turning to the bed, Frederick carefully took a seat beside her. She had to grind her back teeth to keep from showing how even that slight movement caused pain.

  “I’m sorry, Kit, I should’ve—”

  “No,” she interrupted quietly. Refusing to look past her brother to the giant man behind him, she leaned forward to whisper, “You have nothing to be sorry about. If not for your knowledge of the city, we’d still be lost. Go on. Visit with Claire,” she insisted gently. “I’ll soon be myself again and then we’ll go home.”

  He glanced down as though wanting to avoid her gaze. But then he stood. With another nod toward Hale, he once again left the two of them alone in the bedroom.

  She sat in silence, watching from the corner of her eye as Hale opened the bottle of liquor by pulling the cork with his teeth, before stepping forward to offer it to her.

  “You’ll need it.”

  Wanting to argue but knowing he was right, she set the glass of water on the bedside table and took the bottle in her good hand.

  Hale watched as she took a healthy swig of the whiskey. She had to breath deep to hold back the urge to cough at the fiery fumes. When he lifted his chin in a gesture indicating he wanted her to take another, she frowned but did as he asked.

  Smirking at her reluctant acquiescence, he lifted his hands to release the queue at his nape. Holding the strip of leather in his teeth, he combed his hands back through his honey-colored hair then retied it.

  He’d done the same thing that evening at his office. And now, just as then, something about the action—perhaps the way it caused his arms to flex, showing off every rope of muscle, or maybe it was the way he tucked his chin and looked at her from beneath his brows as he did it—reached down deep into Katherine’s core to tug at a delicate thread buried within her.

  The twitch in his lips as he started toward her suggested he knew the effect he had on her. He probably affected all women in such a way with his raw masculinity, flickering smirk, and towering strength.

  “Ready?” His voice was low and textured.

  Katherine took another swig from the bottle, barely resisting the urge to shudder as the whiskey seared a path to her belly.

  “You’ll need to lie flat.”

  With a heavy breath, she shifted lower on the bed as he removed the pillows and tossed them aside. Pain arced through her when she started to lie back again, and she squeezed her eyes against the tears pricking behind her eyelids. Then she felt the solid press of Hale’s large hand beneath her mid back, adding support.

  Her eyes flew open to find his gaze mere inches from hers. Her breath escaped through her lips in a soft puff.

  “Easy,” he murmured thickly.

  Once she was fully stretched out on the bed, he pulled his hand back. “I’ll need to check for any broken or splintered bone.”

  Katherine nodded. Though she was tempted to close her eyes again, she focused on his face instead, studying the details of his rugged bone structure—how the crest of his cheeks sloped to the hard angle of his jaw, the dark golden color of the stubble that grew there and the darker fan of his lashes beneath a heavily furrowed brow.

  He really was handsome. In a coarse, entirely unpolished sort of way. A way that suggested he’d lived a brutal life filled with the kind of violence and uncertainty she’d never encountered.

  Starting at her elbow, his large hands encircled her arm as he kneaded and probed with broad fingers. All the way up to her shoulder where he followed the structure of bones and ligaments surrounding the dislocated joint.

  The intense pain of his necessary exploration had her sucking in a harsh breath as more tears burned in her eyes. His gaze flew to hers, solemn and intent as he held her stare.

  Her breath came swift through her clenched teeth as she felt drawn in by the intensity in his eyes. Drawn in and...claimed.

  Glancing away, he cleared his throat as he lifted his hands from her. “No fractures. That’s good. It’ll hurt like hell when I realign your shoulder, but then you should feel some relief.”

  “I understand.”

  “Relax. Breathe slow and even.” A glint of amusement flashed in his eyes. “I know it’ll be hard, but you’ll have to completely submit to my direction.”

  Katherine’s reply was swift and curt. “This isn’t going to work.”

  He chuckled, a wonderful rich sound. “Close your eyes.”

  As soon as she did, he took her wrist in his hand. Slowly, smoothly, gently—he straightened her arm and began to pull it out to her side. Once he reached a point where her arm was at a ninety-degree angle from her body, he pressed his other hand against the side of her torso, curving around her rib case for leverage. Then he began to slowly but firmly pull on her wrist.

  She clenched her teeth as the damaged tissue tightened in protest.

  But then with a strange sort of clunk, her shoulder found its proper position. The sound was horrid, but the relief was instantaneous.

  Her breath puffed out in a heavy gust, and she opened her eyes to see Hale leaning over her, his face a mask of grave tension as he carefully lowered her arm and nestled it to her side then bent her forearm across her waist.

  “Stay here and don’t move.” His voice was stern as he turned and strode from the room.

  Katherine wasn’t going anywhere just yet. Though the odd useless numbness had left her arm, the spot where the horse’s hoof had made contact was throbbing anew, as was her twisted ankle. She lifted her head and pulled up her skirt with her good hand to risk a glance at the pained limb and noted some swelling above her fashionable boots.

  Hale returned at that moment, with a length of cloth thrown over his arm and a small jar in his hand.

  She quickly tried to lower her skirts back over her legs, but it wasn’t so easy to accomplish while laid out flat.

  His tone was sardonic. “Don’t bother. I’ll be tossing them up again in a moment.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Excuse me?” she asked in alarm as her belly fluttered.

  He lowered himself to a crouch beside her. “Not what you’re thinking.” He lifted the jar. “A poultice. For your other injuries.”

  “That’s not necessary, Mr. Hale,” she argued as she used her good arm to awkwardly push up to a seated position. Unfortunately, she couldn’t rise from the bed completely with him in her space as he was. She pinned him with her most intimidating scowl. “Do you mind?”

  His smile widened. “I can’t say I’ve ever minded anyone, to be honest.”

  Katherine rolled her eyes. “While that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, Frederick and I need to be going.”

  “Eventually.”

  He set the jar and cloth on the bedside table and started grabbing the pillows he’d earlier discarded to set them behind her so she could sit more comfortably. Then he reached for the jar again. As he twisted the lid, it released a pungent aroma that immediately had her wrinkling her nose in disgust.

  Seeing her reaction, he chuckled. The sound was rich and heavy, settling low in her core.

  “The worse the smell the stronger the medicine.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true. Either way, what on earth makes you think I’d let you anywhere near me with it?”

  His eyes darkened. “Because I’m all you’ve got.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she muttered tensely.

  The growling sound he made was one of frustration and lost patience. “I’ve seen my share of strains and breaks during my years in the ring. I know what happens when a pers
on fails to perform the most basic steps in treating such injuries.” He met her gaze with a glint of dark fire in his eyes. “Now, lift your blasted skirts.”

  It was a blatant challenge. And Katherine wanted very badly to prove that he couldn’t bully her like he surely did everyone else.

  But as she stared back at him, something shifted in his expression. His voice lowered from a growl to something more resembling the purr of a lion with his next words. “Lift your skirts, luv, or I’ll reach beneath them and feel my way around.”

  Something bright and intense ignited within her at his words. She had no doubt he’d make good on his threat. In a second, she had her skirts pulled up to her knees.

  His short laugh was oddly stimulating and shivers spread over her skin, making her nape tingle. The way he shifted so swiftly from amused to intense then back to amused was disconcerting.

  Reaching forward, he lifted her injured foot in his hands. Strong fingers probed the bones of her ankles through the thin leather of her boot. The discomfort made her wince as he reached a particularly tender spot. Though he kept his chin lowered, he flicked his gaze to hers. “You’ve been lucky. No broken bones. The poultice should help, but once the boot comes off, the swelling will get worse.”

  “We could just leave it on,” she suggested stubbornly.

  His response was to start loosening the laces.

  Katherine fisted her fingers in her skirts as he wrapped one hand around the full curve of her calf and eased the boot from her heel. As soon as her foot came free, the throbbing magnified three-fold.

  She bit her lip and forced her breath through her nose in a slow and even rhythm.

  “Your stocking.”

  The rough nature of his voice drew her gaze to his face, but he remained focused on the task at hand. With the pain becoming more and more unbearable, she carefully reached beneath the pile of skirts in her lap to release her garter before hooking her fingers in the stocking and sliding it down over her knee. She had to lean forward in order to slip the garment off her foot, which brought her dangerously close to the man crouched at her side. Breathing his scent through her nose, her attention was once again snared by the steady pulse in the side of his throat.