Page 106 of An Imperfect Scoundrel

“It’s my debt.”

“I wish I’d had the opportunity to spend time with her,” Alana replied, holding out the letter. “My last visit to Wiltshire was quite short.”

“I’m certain your next one will be longer,” he said as he took the page. “Once the man who killed your uncle is captured.”

He stood and returned to the desk, putting the letter back onto the stack and closing the drawer. Retrieving the bottle, he took a drink of whiskey. It burned his throat.

Had she picked up on his subtle threat that he didn’t intend to release her until word was received that the danger in Wiltshire had passed?

“Would you return with me?”

“And your husband? That sounds like a delightful voyage.”

“Give me the bottle, Cedric.”

It irked him that she’d used his false name, knowing she’d purposefully chosen not to say ‘Charles.’

“Only if you lie down,” he said, rising.

“Everything on your terms?” she retorted.

When he didn’t move, she rolled her eyes and laid back, scooting down until she reclined against the pillows.

“I know no other way.” He strode toward her.

“And after you leave this ship?”

Raising her head slightly, he slid his arm under her neck. He lifted her up and tipped a swallow of whiskey into her mouth but didn’t speak until he set her head back on the pillow.

“I return to Wiltshire, rescue my sister, and visit a lighthouse.”

“Those are quite specific plans.” Alana indicated she wanted another sip.

He complied with a grin, then set the bottle on the floor and carefully moved her over to the wall.

After pulling off his boots, he stretched out beside her, tucking one arm behind his head and returning the other to the position beneath hers.

“Those have been my intentions for the past several months,” he said, staring at the lengthening shadows as they crawled across the ceiling. “But I have to amend them.”

“To what?” she asked, curling into his side.

“Apparently, I have to prevent you from returning to Wiltshire until this killer is captured.”

“That is not a matter you need to concern yourself with.”

“It is now, Patrick Flannery’s little sister.” His arm curled around her. “And I also have to apologize to him.”

“You will not tell my brother that we had relations in a letter!”

“Should I do it in person?” He was only partially teasing.

“He will either murder you or force you to marry me.”

“Are you not amenable to both solutions?”

“Marriage by coercion or the death of a man I love…”

“You love me?” He popped up.