“What are you talking about?”
“I’m still working out the details. We can discuss it in the morning. Better yet, let Joshua and me take care of it.”
He started for her closet, and she grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Oh, no. You will not treat me like one of your Society ladies who sits home doing needlepoint while her man is away. I’m part of this. It’s my tavern. If you go after Ferryman, I go too.”
“I’d rather you not get anywhere near him. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
King seemed to consider this a moment. “Then what do you need?”
Violet swallowed, suddenly realizing how close he stood and how alone they were. Her eyes darted to the bed where the boys usually slept, and she had a sudden image of her naked body tangled with King’s—all those lovely muscles bunched and tensing as he bent over her.
“I think I can manage that,” he murmured, reaching out and tugging her waist until she was pressed against him. Violet drewin a breath, inhaling the scents of his brushed wool coat and bergamot tea. Underneath those scents were more familiar ones of her own soap, yeasty beer, and something that she could only describe as him.
She met his gaze then winced at his black eye and the swelling near his lip.
“Do I look that bad?” he asked.
“You never look bad,” she murmured.
“Neither do you. I don’t know how I managed to work next to you all night without doing this.”
He bent toward her and kissed her gently. She had the urge to kiss him back, hard, but was conscious of his split lip. His kiss was teasing, and his tongue darted out to taste her lips and trace them lightly. She opened up, and he licked his way inside, igniting a fire in her belly and making her squirm to move closer to him, though she was already pressed fast and hard against him.
No one but King had ever kissed her like this. No man had ever treated her so tenderly or like she was something of value, something to be cherished and protected. She didn’t need his protection, but it was nice to know she had it.
His hands moved up her back, bringing warmth and a tingling pleasure. They slid into the tangle of her hair, freeing the last of it from its confines. “I love your hair,” he said, pulling back to look at her as he spread the dark tresses over her shoulders.
“It’s a mess.”
“That’s what I love about it. It’s wild, like you.”
“I’m not wild.”
“We’ll see.” He tugged her hair lightly, pulling her head back so he could nuzzle her neck. Flames of heat licked their way from her toes to her sex, making her breath come fast and her hands clench in his coat. His hands slid from her back to her bodice,and he cupped one heavy breast, making her nipples harden with an aching need.
“King,” she said as he moved to her throat and unfastened a button just below his lips.
“Hmm?” he asked, sounding as though he had all the time in the world when she was on fire to be touched.
“Don’t bother with that. Just toss my skirts up and—”
He pulled back. “Don’t rush me. I want to see you naked.”
“Later.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been imagining it for days, imagining kissing you, licking you, touching you…everywhere.” He opened another button.
Violet could hardly breathe now. His words were making her imagine things too, mostly his lips in all the places aching for his touch. She moved closer to him, pressing her body against him until she felt his hard length.
He chuckled, low and velvety. “And you said you were not wild.”
He dipped his lips into the V of her bodice, and she let her head fall back, closing her eyes and enjoying the moment, not allowing herself to think about whether she should do this and what a mistake it might feel like in the morning. For a few minutes she could forget about the tavern and Ferryman and her brothers—
“Vi!”
She jerked. “Did you hear that?”
