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“I don’t have anything,” she protested. “I don’t know what they want.”
“Well, let me see inside your bag,” he challenged.
His suspicions were proven correct when she immediately clutched her bag tighter. With his patience wearing thin, Connor stalked toward her. He wasn’t going to be thwarted. If he had to put her over his knee and keep her there while he looked inside her bag then that is what he would do.
Each step he took toward her was carefully controlled, closely measured, and designed to heighten her worry. It worked because he caught the tell-tale backward step she took when he was about six feet away from her.
“Give me the bag, Tahlia,” he ordered firmly.
Tahlia tried not to stare at him, but this was the first time she had seen him outside of the smog for three years. There was now a stern demeanour about him that hadn’t been there before. It emphasised his rugged handsomeness. It was even more enthralling than the affability of the charming rogue she had met three years ago. There was an air of danger about Connor now that she couldn’t remember being there before, but it was attractive rather than repulsive.
Of course it wasn’t there before. You wouldn’t have gone anywhere near him if he had appeared as dangerous as he does now, a small voice warned her.
She tried to ignore the vast expanse of his broad, broad shoulders encased lovingly in an extremely expensive jacket. While she tried to keep her gaze off the length of his leg, she found herself studying his highly polished boots lovingly clasping his heavily muscled calves. She swallowed and winced at how audible it was in the silence of the hallway.
“Give me the bag, Tahlia,” Connor ordered.
He spoke to try to divert her attention off him before she saw the evidence of his keen interest in her. Thankfully, she looked up and met his gaze.
“No,” she whispered. “There is nothing in here they could want.”
The silence thickened when it became evident that neither of them was prepared to surrender. In the end, when the silence had stretched to breaking point, Tahlia couldn’t stand it any longer. Still clutching her bag, she removed her shawl and stalked toward the front door.
“Well, I have to be getting on now. Thank you for your assistance this morning. It is most appreciated,” she said as she yanked it open and stood back to allow him out of the house.
Rather than take his leave, Connor turned and watched her.
“Close the door, Tahlia,” he ordered. “I am not leaving.”
She stood beside it and glared at him. “I won’t keep you. I am sure you have things to be getting on with as well.”
“I think I deserve an explanation,” he said. “I have saved you three times today, Tahlia. I think I am owed something.”
Tahlia mentally winced. He had a point, but she still couldn’t afford for him to remain in the house for much longer.
When Tahlia didn’t close the door, Connor moved toward her and closed it for her. However, once it had slammed shut, he remained in front of her, effectively daring her to try to put some distance between them. To do that, she had to move around him and would have to brush past him.
“After everything I have done to help you this morning, Tahlia, the least I deserve is a bloody explanation,” he growled.
“There is nothing to explain,” she countered defensively. “This is London. A city where people get mugged every day, I am sure. Why, if Cecily hadn’t become lost in the smog we would have been home hours ago.”
“This might be London, but people don’t get mugged twice in one day, Tahlia. Nor do they get snatched off the streets very often. I don’t want to be pedantic here, but if they were ordinary muggers, they were darned determined. I mean, to snatch you off the street is a tad excessive for an ordinary mugger who could have picked off any of the other pedestrians on the street today, isn’t it? For some, rather mysterious reason, they – not he – they, chose you. Now, why, I wonder?”
Tahlia froze when one long finger flicked at the tassels on her purse.
“Could it have something to do with the contents of this?” he murmured.
The husky timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine and it had nothing to do with the threat in his eye. She stared at him and knew then that she was never going to go anywhere if she didn’t tell him at least something to appease his curiosity. She had to tell him what little she knew, if only to get him to go before Cecily revealed all of their secrets.
Determined to shake off the invisible tug of attraction which seemed to get more difficult to ignore each time he drew near, Tahlia sighed.
“I have been to the solicitor’s office to sign some documentation regarding this house, that’s all. He gave me this key,” she explained.
She slapped the bag down onto the table and opened it. Aware of his scrutiny, she dropped her coin purse onto the table, followed by a neatly folded handkerchief and the large iron key Mr Kibble had given her. Beside that she put the letter her uncle had left for her.
“See? That’s all that is in there,” she sighed and dropped down into the chair behind the desk.
Connor moved forward to inspect them and cursed silently when he realised she was telling the truth. There was nothing untoward about anything she had in her possession. What were the muggers after then? Was it a case of mistaken identity?
