Alex went still. She didn’t question the stranger’s motives. Didn’t care who he was. If he’d come to stop the hulking bastard whose fingers bruised her flesh, he was an ally.
She had to ensure her captor’s attention remained firmly on her. Biting her bottom lip, she drew closer and angled her body to emphasize the swell of her fully clothed bosom. Wiggling one arm partially free, she pressed a hand to his shoulder, sweeping her fingers over the rough wool of his jacket. He reeked of filth and liquor and God-only-knew-what scented his foul breath. Shuddering disgust rippled through her.
She forced a gentle tone and a deliberately coy smile. “Perhaps, we can work out an…arrangement.”
“I’ve no need to bargain with you,” he said in a harsh tone. An ugly grin pulled his mouth wide. “I’ll take what I—”
The lean man raised the object in his hands. A cricket bat. A crude weapon. But efficient.
He swung.
Slicing through the air, the wooden plank slammed into the brute’s head.
Her captor’s eyes went wide with shock. His hands fell away. Alex darted from him, a breath before the brute collapsed to the floor.
Holding the bat at the ready, the second intruder watched the larger man. The tense posture of his body made it clear he was taking no chances. Seconds passed. The hulk who’d threatened her lay still, his face plastered to the carpet. Faint stirrings of his body betrayed he still possessed life.
But for the moment, he did not pose a threat.
The lean man turned to her.
Alex’s heart stuttered, though fear had nothing to do with it.
This evening is indeed the stuff of nightmares.
“Oh, it’s you.” Tasting the flavor of contempt in her words, she hiked her chin to meet the man’s intent gaze.
Of all the men who might have come to her rescue—armed with a cricket bat, of all the blasted things—it had to behim.
Deep inside, she’d always known Benedict Weston—the newly minted Viscount Marlsbrook—would one day slither back into her life.
Perhaps fate did indeed possess a wicked sense of humor.
…
Benedict Weston, Lord Marlsbrook, had never considered himself a hero. His actions bore no resemblance to those of chivalrous knights and other protectors of defenseless women. Quite truthfully, he could not describe coming to the rescue on this particular occasion as altruistic or selfless. As such, he had not expected a hero’s welcome. But he had not anticipated the cool disdain in the eyes of the woman he’d just saved—from the clutches of a stinking bear of a man, no less.
Alexandra looked up at him. No, he corrected himself,glaredwas more to the point.Oh, it’s you.Those three simple, ordinary words wielded the bitter edge of a well-honed blade.
Benedict went to her desk and lit the lamp. Turning to her, he met her words with a purposefully bland expression. “Why, Alexandra, I am shocked—you don’t look happy to see me.”
“Should I be?” She’d spoken the words matter-of-factly, with no trace of petulance.
He swept his gaze over her. To assure himself she was unharmed, he told himself. To prove to himself that he’d come in time. Still, his eyes lingered over the curve of her face and her mouth with its sweet pout and hue of summer roses.
With one hand, he reached for her, the urge to touch her nearly irresistible. A part of him expected her to reject his touch, but she made no effort to pull away.
“Did the bastard hurt you?” he asked.
Softly, she shook her head. This close, her soft floral scent filled his senses. Lily of the valley, if memory served. Subtle and feminine. Gaslight from the lamp cast Alex’s high-boned countenance in contrast with the shadows that surrounded her. God above, she was lovely. Was it possible her beauty had grown even more lush in the years since he’d walked away?
Not that he’d ever been able to forget how very beautiful she was. Over time, the yearning for her had faded. Enough to be bearable, at least. So many nights he’d dreamed of her, only to awaken to the dismal realization that she was gone to him. Forever.
The even notes of her voice pushed aside the miserable thought.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
For a change, he’d tell the truth. “To protect you.”
