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And the best thing might be for her to see precisely how reprehensible people could be. He banged on the coach. Once the carriage had stopped, Simon shouted to the driver, “Little Compton to Seven Dials, then back to Hell.”
“Yes, sir.”
“There is no reason for a detour. Please return me home.”
“There is every reason, Miss Drake.” He folded his arms over his chest. “You need to see the danger you put yourself in with your little list of adventures.”
Pale blue eyes sparkled with fury as she held his stare for a long moment before moving her gaze to the oranges on her lap. She lobbed an orange at him, hitting him in the chest. “You have no right to interfere in my business.”
He let out a low growl as a warning to her. “You should behave like a lady,” he replied and then ducked as she tossed another orange at his head.
“Why won’t you just leave me alone!” She hurled the rest of the oranges and the basket at him.
An object speeding toward them caught his eye. He lunged across the carriage at her as oranges flew over his head. Grasping her around the waist, he twisted until she lay across the squab with his body covering hers. She pressed against his shoulders, attempting to get his weight off her.
Realizing he was crushing her, he lifted slightly but continued to stare down at her. “Apparently, I cannot leave you alone, no matter how hard I try.”
For once, she remained quiet. But Simon couldn’t look away from her beautiful eyes lined with tawny lashes. He wished he could kiss her but knew he should not. They stared at each other, and the urge to kiss her became too great to disregard. Slowly, he lowered his head—
“Sir? Are you all right?” the coachman shouted as the carriage came to a stop.
He looked up and then back and forth. “Take us to Hell now.”
“Yes, sir.”
His gaze returned to hers. “Are you all right? No glass hit you, did it?”
Emma looked around in confusion as if she had no idea of what he was even speaking. “I am well,” she whispered slowly.
“Thank God.” He eased off her. Shards of glass fell from the back of his greatcoat, clattering to the floor of the coach. He must have stepped on an orange as the entire carriage filled the fragrant redolence as the scent of her jasmine perfume slipped away.
She sat up and glanced at the broken glass on his seat and the rock which landed near a battered orange. Her face grew pale. “What happened, Kingsley?”
Simon cringed. If he hadn’t lunged at her, she might have been hit by either the glass or the rock. His heart still pounded in his chest. As much as she might frustrate him, he couldn’t imagine what seeing her hurt due to an association with him would mean to him. She was starting to break through to the heart he didn’t think he even had.
“Simon!”
He blinked and glanced over at her again. She straightened her clothing as if this type of thing happened every day to her. “Apparently, someone threw a rock at the carriage. Yet another reason why you should never have come to this part of town.”
She tilted her head and gave him a smirk with her pretty lips. “You can certainly do better than that. We were still in Soho. This area of town is nowhere near as bad as Seven Dials, and even there, few carriages are ever attacked in daylight. And since it is highly unlikely that someone deliberately tried to hurt me, it begs the question, who is trying to hurt, or possibly kill you?”
Damn her for being logical when he least wanted her to determine the truth. He needed the woman who made foolish decisions like introducing herself to Simpson. With a sigh, he muttered, “I have no idea.”
“You must have some thought on this. Who have you angered with your rakish ways?”
“No one in a very long time.”
“Someone who owes you money from gambling at your establishment?”
“Highly unlikely. Most of the men who owe me money settle their debts.”
“Then it begs the question, how would someone even know it was your carriage? There are no identifying marks on it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze on him. “There must be someone who wishes you harm.”
The last thing he needed was her worrying over him. He would not tell her that it was the time of the month that he collected rents in this exact area. Many people knew his schedule. Any of them could have been paid by Park to unnerve him. He shrugged and looked outside as they came closer to St. James and Hell. “I wish I knew.”
“What would you do if you did know?”
Kill the bastard. Simon really shouldn’t say such a thing and frighten her. Still, his heart raced as he thought about what almost happened to her. It brought feelings to mind that he never sought or expected. Seeing the lines of worry around the tight, thin line of her lips made him wonder if she cared even a little for him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone truly loved him. Not that he needed her love. She was everything he didn’t want; spoiled, eager for a title, and.....
