Page 10 of Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

B roadbank slipped his arm more firmly around Gemma’s waist as he opened the back door. When she stopped in her tracks, he plucked her off her feet and carried her through the shadows to where Perkins stood waiting for him.

“Safe and sound, Captain?”

“Aye. Miss Atherton, Seaman Perkins.” Introductions having been made, he still did not set her down.

“I am perfectly capable of walking, Captain.”

“Aye, but I have no wish to chase after you, Lass.”

He felt her tense in his arms and nearly laughed aloud. By turns, the woman delighted and irritated the bloody hell out of him. Would it be this way for the whole of their married lives? Rather than worry about what may or may not happen, he concentrated on the plans already in place for their future. Beginning with the Special License he’d tucked into his pocket on his way to The Lyon’s Den earlier this evening.

“Would you care to freshen up before or after we are wed?”

Her mouth gaped open, but no words emerged.

He tried to stifle his laughter but couldn’t. “Wasn’t that what you were hoping to accomplish by securing Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s assistance? Marriage?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Did I come to your aid, not once, but thrice this evening?”

She ducked her head and sighed. “Yes.”

He placed the tip of his finger beneath her chin, urging her to meet his gaze. “I will do all in my power to protect you, Gemma, and promise not to hurt you.”

“Like you did earlier?”

Perkins and Grant were close enough to hear their conversation, but he didn’t give it more than a passing thought when he growled, “When?”

“You knocked the wind out of me.”

“Poor lass,” Perkins mumbled.

“Are you all right, Miss?” Grant asked.

“She’s fine,” he told his men before he grumbled, “I bloody well did not mean to knock the wind out of you!”

Gemma sighed aloud. She’d not give the captain reason to believe she would capitulate so easily in all things. “It may have been an accident.”

“It was not on purpose,” he bit out.

“Mind if we take this discussion elsewhere?” Edmund asked, walking toward them. “Mr. Atherton will rouse the alarm soon enough.”

Captain Broadbank increased his pace as he ordered, “Perkins, Grant, meet us at Templeton House after you relay my instructions to Mr. Atherton.”

The men were quick to respond. “Aye, aye, Captain!”

Gemma did not seem overly concerned what those instructions would be. He doubted her father had given a thought to how she’d feel being forced to wed a man like Harkwell, a man she disliked intensely.

“Where are you taking me?” Gemma whispered against his neck as he had yet to set her on her feet.

He found he liked the feel of her breath in the hollow of his throat. For a heartbeat, he pondered how it would feel to have her lips replace the soft puffs of air as she spoke. “To Templeton House, our family’s London town house.”

“Oh, but my clothes…”

“Not to worry, I’ll have them fetched for you, after my men have a word with your father and Harkwell.”

“I thought the Watch was questioning them.”

He grinned at her. “Aye. I’ve assigned my men as the Watch this evening.”

“Your men?”

“They’ll not do your father any serious damage, Lass.”

“What about Lord Harkwell?”

“Do you care?”

“Not especially.”

“Then it’s not worth discussing. Is it now?”

“I suppose not. Will anyone be at your home?”

“My father’s London staff.”

“Will they be shocked when you cart me in through the front door?”

Her icy tones had his answering rumble of laughter surrounding them. “You’ll either be my salvation, Lass, or the death of me.”

“Let us hope for both our sakes it is the former.”

He was smiling when his lips descended to hers. His intention—to kiss her so she stopped talking. When his mouth met hers, time stood still. Soft. Supple. Surprisingly sweet. He’d expected tart—like unripened berries.

“Can you at least wait until you are inside the carriage, Brother?”

“Don’t you have a task to complete?” he replied.

Edmund laughed, saluted his brother, and hurried after his brother’s men.