AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She shoved at him, her legs kicking, the red blaze in her eyes still fixated on making the bastard pay. “You bloody ass, youswivel-eyed, scaly dunghill—”
Evan shifted her in his arm, carrying her backward as she screamed at the man. Within three seconds he’d dragged her up into the carriage and slammed the door shut before collapsing with her onto the back bench. His iron hold didn’t leave her waist, never once giving her the chance to escape.
The pulled curtains of the carriage surrounded them and blocked her view of the man that had attacked her, her view of everything.
The swear at her lips teetered and she exhaled, words leaving her.
With Evan’s left arm locked across her belly, she sat on his lap for long seconds, seething, unable to blink the raging film out of her own eyes.
“Juliet—”
“I hate them—I hate every last blasted one of them.” She twisted on his lap, trying to free herself.
“I’m not letting you go right now.”
“Then I hate you too.” She jerked to her left, then her right, trying to wiggle out of his steel hold, her voice screeching. “Every damn one of you that knows it’s his God-given right to do whatever you want to me. I hate you all.”
Evan’s voice was suddenly in her ear, a rumble cutting through the rage fogging her brain. “The only thing I have a right to is what you offer.”
“Then let me theblazesgo.”
“Not when you’re going to cause a scene by slicing off that man’s testicles. I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve it. I’m only acknowledging that we live in a world that frowns upon ballocks removal.”
Dammit to all hell.
He was right. Insufferably right. Was she looking to get herself hung?Transported?Forced into a madhouse?
The anger seeping out of her, she curled over his arm about her waist, all the air leaving her lungs.
The first sob came without warning. Then the next and she was no force against them. She didn’t cry. Ever. But for the life of her she couldn’t stop the sobs, one after another rolling through her body.
What had become of her? A week out of London and she’d lost all control of her actions—her damn emotions. What in the devil had happened to her?
Evan’s right hand slipped under the front of her shoulders and he gently tugged her backward, curling her onto his chest. His arm went along her back, encapsulating her in a cocoon of safety.
For a man that didn’t know anything about women, he knew how to hold a crying one. The wall of him soaking up her tears, his fingers gentle along her neck, stroking so lightly it felt like the wisp of the wind on her spine.
Her sobs dwindled and his chest lifted against her cheek with a deep inhale.
“Who hurt you, Juliet?” The softest rumble from him not chiding her for her actions. Not blaming her for being a madwoman. Merely asking her the simplest question.
A question she couldn’t refuse to answer.
“Everyone who ever loved me.”
In the space of the next breath, she knew that was all she could offer. She couldn’t give him any more—wouldn’t give him any more.
Her hand flattened on his chest and she pushed herself away from him. His hold on her loosened. “So, no, thank you. I do not want your kindness. The possibility of endearment.”
She shifted off his lap, stood hunched over for the height of the carriage as she sheathed her dagger, and her hand went to the door handle.
Just like that, he let her go.
She exhaled a sigh of relief.
Relief she felt too soon, for in the next instant, his hand whipped out and grabbed her forearm.
{ Chapter 8 }
