Page 52 of Miss Wylde and the Wynd

Damian followed behind her but instead of sitting across from her, he sat next to Georgie.

She wanted to question him but continued to face forward as her heart started pounding against her breast as her pulse increased.

Was the reason because he wanted to be closer to her?

Did she dare hope that…?

“There are new passengers,” he whispered.

Disappointment rushed through her body as she finally looked at him

“Who?”

“Another couple, I believe. They were crossing from the inn as I entered the coach.”

In that instant, a woman stepped inside, followed by a man. They settled on the seat across from them, smiled and nodded, but said nothing.

Oh, she wished that she and Damian were still alone, but this was likely for the best because now she wouldn’t be tempted to kiss him. Instead, she would just think about it and imagine what it might be like.

Chapter Nineteen

Damian woke before he slowly opened his eyes, not certain when he fell asleep.

Georgie had drifted off before he had, leaning against her side of the coach. He had nearly drew her to his side so that she could rest her head against him, but he had suffered enough temptation already and having her that close would be more than he wanted to endure.

Not long after, he recalled that his eyelids became too heavy to keep open, likely because of his lack of sleep the night before and then having drunk nearly a bottle of wine with Georgie before their stop.

He hadn’t awakened because he had got enough sleep, but something had disturbed him, and it wasn’t that he was sleeping in a mail coach.

Something wasn’t right.

Damian held still to determine what was wrong.

Then he felt a hand carefully pull at his suitcoat. Without looking, he knew that it wasn’t Georgie. She had no reason to lift his purse.

His eyes shifted lower, and even though the light in the lamp by the door had been turned low, he recognized that it belonged to a man and in a blink, grasped his wrist and looked him in the eye.

He did not need to ask what he had been about to do. “I suggest you sit back in your seat.” His tone was deep, cold, a clear warning that if he did not, Damian would toss him from the moving mail coach. He was tempted to do so anyway.

“What…”

He glanced over at Georgie’s exclamation. The woman who had accompanied the man had lifted the flap of her satchel, which Georgie constantly kept on her lap and a hand over the flap. The woman must have carefully moved it away.

“Thieves!” Damian exclaimed.

Georgie sat straight and pushed the woman back with enough force that she fell onto her seat before she searched her satchel, likely to make certain nothing had been taken.

“Is anything gone?” Damian asked.

“No. Was anything taken from you?”

“No.”

Georgie scooted closer to him.

“Is this what you do?” he asked the couple. “Ride mail coaches at night, when people are tired, rob them in their sleep, then leave at the next coaching inn in hope that nobody notices until it is too late and the mail coach is too far away, knowing that it will not return.”

Neither said anything but stared at him with defiance.