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‘And he gets away with it?’

‘He’s a peer of the realm,’ Mr Ambrose answered simply.

‘But surely your parents suspect…’

‘Ha!’ That muscle in Mr Ambrose’s jaw twitched. ‘You’ve met my mother, Mr Linton. She wouldn’t be able to think badly of a rabid berserker, let alone a “respectable gentleman”. And my father…well, as I said, Lord Dalgliesh is a peer of the realm. In my father’s eyes, he can do no wrong.’

The bitterness in his voice made me burn with the desire to ask what had happened between them all those years ago. But I didn’t. That was a discussion for another day. A day when no sword was hanging over our heads.

That night I slept in Mr Ambrose’s arms, with Karim standing guard outside the door. Knowing that the huge bodyguard was alert outside was a relief - yet, somehow, it didn’t bring half the comfort of the hard arms wrapped around me. Even in his deepest sleep, Mr Rikkard Ambrose felt like a rock. My rock, which I could always depend on.

‘I should have stayed away.’

At the sound of his voice, I almost jumped out of my skin. Bloody hell!

‘I thought you were sleeping!’

Ignoring my words, he repeated: ‘I should have stayed away from here.’

I hesitated. ‘Why?’

His arms tightened around me. ‘If I had stayed away, none of this would be happening.’

‘You’re right.’ Turning in his arms, I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. ‘None of this would be happening.’ Another featherlight kiss, this time on the lips. ‘None of it.’

‘Mr Linton?’

‘Oh, I am “Mister” Linton right now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why, Sir?’ Another kiss, this one a little less gentle.

‘Because you are misbehaving. Stop it!’

‘Stop what?’ I trailed kisses from the edge of his mouth, over his jaw and down his neck, until I was cuddling comfortably under his chin, against his chest. ‘This?’

A rumble rose from his chest, threatening retribution. I smiled into him, ignoring the warning. Instead of retreating, I cuddled closer. In his arms, I felt safe beyond any rationally explicable manner.

Still, would it be enough? Step by step, Lord Dalgliesh was invading Mr Ambrose’s ancestral home, taking control without its owners even realising it. There was real danger. To the both of us, and his family.

Maybe we should just leave! Run away and…

But no.

As soon as I thought that, I saw an image of the hopeful face of Mr Ambrose’s mother before my inner eye. A mother who hadn’t seen her son in over ten years. This was their first family Christmas in over a decade. If we left now, without being able to give any explanation…

I shuddered. I didn’t even want to think about it.

We had to get through this. And we would. And then…

‘Mr Ambrose?’

‘Yes, Mr Linton?’

‘Once this is all over…’

A moment of silence.

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