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5
Dane would murder the man.
There was no doubt about it. He would torture the earl and then he’d slaughter him, and he’d make sure it was as painful as possible.
The beauty in his arms had stopped trembling, but now he could see the weary exhaustion in her eyes.
A tenderness the likes of which he’d never known made his chest tighten and ache. He’d take a knife wound over this impossible ache any day. A knife could be removed, a wound could be stitched, but this swelling sensation behind his ribcage? This overwhelming ache as though his heart had come undone?
There was no cure for this. The woman in his arms held his heart in her hands now, just as she’d always done.
But now it was even worse, because alongside the terrifying tenderness there was lust. Desire. A throbbing need so fierce it threatened to blind him.
And yet, she was not his to take.
Just as she hadn’t been the earl’s. A snarl slipped out before he could stop it and he tried his best to soften his expression lest he terrify the poor lass.
So sweet. So pure.
And only Satan himself would take her innocence. He reached out slowly to brush a lock of dark hair from her eyes.
Only a cruel monster would steal it from her.
“Come, love,” he said. “Let’s get you somewhere you can rest.”
She bit her lip as she nodded. He was certain she had questions. Her life was no doubt filled with uncertainty, but first she would rest.
And then he would ensure she got everything she deserved, starting with vengeance and ending with safety and comfort for her and the babe.
She moved as if to stand, but he couldn’t let her go. Instead, he held her in his arms as he stood. Better that way. If she was in his arms she couldn’t see the effect she had on him.
Not that it was a secret. He’d seen the shock when his rebellious, willful cock had hardened against her. He’d seen her horror, too.
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. He couldn’t blame her for being terrified of men and their desires after what his father had done.
No, not his father. The bloody beast who’d raised him. If Dane was a beast now, it was because of the earl. He’d made Dane in his own image through cruelty and violence.
And yet, Lillian had come to him.
He threw open the door and gave orders to a servant in the hallway as he carried Lillian out, toward his own home two doors down. Not nearly so fine as King’s, but it was clean and comfortable, and there he could keep her safe.
He ordered the servant to go on ahead and have his housekeeper prepare food and a bed. Nothing short of the best for his guest.
The girl’s eyes widened. It was the same little blonde who’d come to fetch him, and Dane made note of the way she gave Lillian a small, reassuring smile before rushing off to do his bidding.
“She seems nice,” Lillian murmured. Her voice was so soft, and her eyelids so heavy, it was only a matter of time before she fell asleep. Sure enough, her head fell against his chest as he made his way through a hallway that linked all of King’s properties. It was his back passage, and the reason his men and the gamblers and whores who filled these buildings think that King had eyes and ears everywhere.
Hedid, in a sense, but he had an uncanny knack for being everywhere thanks to the back rooms and secret passageways.
Once in his own quarters, he had his servants ready a bath and made sure they’d bring her food the moment she woke.
His housekeeper Mrs. Morris opened the door to a spare room that she’d just finished airing out. “She’ll be comfortable in here, sir.”
He grunted in acknowledgement but ignored her attempts to help him with the woman in his arms. She was his. And even though he had to let go of her at some point, he didn’t want to let anyone else near.
Mrs. Morris fussed about the room as he laid her on the bed and ran a hand over her forehead. She had no fever, but the shadows under her eyes were troubling, as was the pallor of her skin.
“I’ll take good care of her when she wakes,” Mrs. Morris said softly, her kind old features crinkled in concern as she gazed upon the still-sleeping Lillian.
