Destitute On His Doorstep

Immediately he choked from her assault. Unfortunately Jane’s disgrace was not complete, for as she slid down his hard-muscled thighs and fell at his feet with a bump, her legs went in different directions and her nightgown rode up above her knees. It was difficult to know who was the more shocked or who winced more from the fiasco.

Silently reproaching herself for her clumsiness, carefully Jane sought to regain her modesty. She scrambled to sit upright, bringing her legs together. Upon achieving that position, she pulled her nightgown down as she sought to hide the bare flesh from his eyes.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she uttered, shoving the heavy mane of her hair from her face as she tried to conceal her mortification and distress, hot colour mounting her cheeks. ‘My dog doesn’t like being shut in, but I can’t have him leaping about all over the place, as you see, for he seems to have knocked over a vase, and—’

‘Never mind,’ Francis managed to say, the tendons in his face taut as he fairly struggled to surmount his manly discomfort. Reaching out, he took her arm and pulled her up, his arm going round her waist once again as he set her on her feet. Her hair, which he realised had a life and direction of its own, was tumbling about her neck and down her back.

Jane caught a vague scent of the cologne he wore, mingled with an underlying smell of leather and horses. The scent was pleasant and provocative and floated tantalisingly through her senses. A painful grimace was evidence of Colonel Russell’s continued discomfort, tightening his chiselled features as he endured the torment.

In complete innocence, Jane enquired, ‘Is anything wrong? Did I hurt you when I fell?’

To her shock he smiled at her enquiry, a slow, seductive, secretive smile that made his eyes gleam beneath their heavy lids. Jane was far too naïve to recognise the nuances of it, or she would have seen peril lurking behind that come-hither smile of his. It was the dangerously beguiling smile of a ruthless predator—a predator who wanted her to sense his power, his defiance of any who stood in his path, and to be seduced by what he represented.

‘Just a bit,’ he replied, diligently adjusting his trousers at the waist.

Realising too late what had happened, Jane let a breathless gasp escape her throat and she suffered an endless moment of excruciating embarrassment. The maidenly blush that mantled her cheeks deepened. Purposefully she focused her gaze on the upper part of his chest. It seemed the only way she could marshal her thoughts. Her response to his closeness was as unwanted as it was lightning quick. She felt a hot pull of attraction deep inside that could not lead to any good.

In the midst of his chiselled features and dark blue eyes, now thankfully devoid of pain, at least enough to convey some evidence of humour, strong white teeth as perfect as any Jane had ever seen appeared in a wayward grin. Feeling as if she were being drawn into a snare, for a moment she found herself susceptible to his appeal.

‘Worry not,’ he murmured, leisurely observing her beauty to his heart’s content, making no effort to curb his amused, all-too-confident grin. ‘To see you thus and hold you close—to share such a moment—was well worth it.’

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