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strate gets here. Are you alright, Tahlia?”

“I think so,” she whispered tremulously, then burst into tears.

Great huge gulping sobs wracked her. It became impossible to see beyond the fear, worry, and confusion that enfolded her world in threatening arms.

“What’s going on?” she demanded of nobody in particular. “Who are they, Connor? What do they want with me?”

Rather than answer, Connor gathered her into his arms. Lifting her high, he nodded to Oscar who opened the study door.

“Get her some brandy, would you?” he asked as he passed the butler.

He settled onto the chaise before the fire and rested her on his lap with such precise care that it made her cry even more. Nobody had ever treated her thus, and it didn’t help her find the strength to stop crying.

“Someone tried to shoot us,” she whispered, horrified at just how close she had come to dying.

“They did,” Connor confirmed.

While Oscar closed the shutters and lit the candles, Connor began to rock her gently while she wept into his shoulder.

“They won’t get to you. I can promise you that, Tahlia. They won’t get to you.”

“Who do you suppose it is?” Oscar murmured with a frown as he slid two goblets of brandy onto the table beside them.

“Has anything like this happened before?” Connor asked.

He heaved a mental sigh of relief when Oscar immediately shook his head. At least there wasn’t some unhappy lover out for revenge for being shunned.

“Go and lock the house up. Close all the shutters to the windows of the rooms not in use. Make sure that the doors are bolted. Until I can get to the bottom of this, nobody leaves this house without an armed guard.” He turned a hard glare on Cecily. “Bring me the package of papers you brought in here earlier, would you?”

He felt Tahlia jerk in his arms. “I need to find out what that key is for. Mugging someone to get a key is one thing. Killing them takes this mystery to an entirely different level. I need to send for my colleagues.”

“Colleagues?” She asked.

Sniffling miserably, Tahlia accepted the handkerchief off Cecily and dabbed at her eyes.

Connor sighed. “I work for a branch of the War Office. I have colleagues there who will be able to help us.”

“Mugged?” Oscar growled with a scowl.

Connor briefly explained what had happened to Tahlia while Cecily was wandering the streets. When he had finished he levelled a glare on the shocked maid.

“You have no idea just how dangerous London’s streets can be in such conditions. Don’t wander off again.”

Duly chastised, Cecily nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“War Office?” Tahlia interrupted, but Connor was already focused on the papers Cecily was handing him.

Connor ignored the warning voice telling him that he was prying into her life too much and unfolded the rolls of parchment. Given he was there when someone had shot at the house, this was now a Star Elite investigation. Because he had been in the doorway instead of Tahlia, he had to consider that someone had tried to take a pot-shot at him rather than her. It didn’t bother him at all. He had been the target of many a deranged killer through his work. It was just how close Tahlia had been to death that shook him. It was enough to make him tighten his arms and place random kisses along her brow.

Tahlia leaned back and looked up at him when she became aware of what he was doing.

“I am sorry, I think I got your shirt wet,” she whispered.

Connor smiled. “I will dry out,” he replied tenderly.

Awkward at behaving so intimately with him, especially in front of Oscar and Cecily, Tahlia slid off his lap.

Connor didn’t allow her to move too far away. When she tried to put some more distance between them, he merely placed a hand on her waist and slid her across the seat until their thighs touched. Once she was settled against him, Connor turned his attention to the parchment.

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