Page 12 of The Hellion is Tamed
Emma panted an exasperated breath, a strand of silken hair that had long ago left its confinement flying high. “I was outside, standing beneath that glorious set of lamp posts. Imagine—gas lights on every street! And curbs, real curbs, not the chipped disasters of my time. Anyway, the comings and goings are entertaining enough for an evening spent watching them, but a lady can’t stand on a street such as this without garnering the wrong kind of notice. I had no choice but to sneak in, you see. The only way I know how. I just closed my eyes, imagined a cozy nook, a closet of sorts, and here I was, moments later. I have no trouble staying on the same day and time if the distance is short. Dropped into that pile of clothing like a boulder.” She ticked off reasons on her fingers when she could see her explanation wasn’t getting through. “The main entrance was guarded by two fearsome brutes, the door off the alley, another two bounders. This place is fortified like Buckingham Palace, it is.”
Simon scowled and did some little trick with his hands that made the cufflink disappear. “This isn’t a part of town where it’s wise, even for East End queens, to linger outside a gaming hell. A spot better than it was in your time, but not much.”
“Pish-posh. I’m a girl used ta’ travelin’ the mean streets. I have a sharp blade tucked right here”—she tapped her parasol against her boot—“if it makes you feel better.” With a teasing laugh, she brushed the pointed tip across his shoulder. “And I know how to use it.”
He batted the parasol away and rose to his feet, towering over her, cutting off the oxygen entering her lungs. He was a tall man, broad and uncompromising. Nothing, honestly, like the boy she remembered. “That doesn’t make me feel better, Miss Breslin. A man takes that knifefromyou, he’s going to be angry enough to turn itonyou. The worst part? That you’d use your gift to get inside a gaming hell, of all places. Seems a waste of supernatural skill.”
“True, it’s less time travel and more walking through walls. Which may be a bit of a waste. But I can, so sometimes Ido.” She raised her hand, her index finger and thumb held an inch apart. “I lose a minute, maybe five, ten at most. I’m keen at a near distance. Still the thirteenth, right?”
Simon tunneled his hand inside his swank coat and came out with a gleaming timepiece she’d reckon cost more than food for a year for a family in the rookery. “Ten minutes before midnight, so yes. Technically.”
“I did good, then. Technically. Maybe lost half an hour I didn’t need anyway.”
Not inclined to agree, Simon snapped the case shut and jammed the pocket watch in place. Lifting his arm, he pointed to a spot above her head. “There’s a box on the shelf. Far right. You’re tall enough to reach it. Something there will match your captivating but half-finished gown, I’m sure.”
Emma buried the impulse to argue. She’d didn’t like comments about her height because she was taller than most women and many men. But not taller thanthisone. With a cross reply muttered low enough to escape his ear, she anchored her parasol on the floor, bounced up on her toes and reached, her hand hitting the box. She felt inside, instantly recognizing what it contained. “Masks?”
“Masks. For just such a calamity as the one you’ve presented this eve. A woman stumbling into the Blue Moon, one I feel it best our members do not recognize. You think to prance down these hallways, where anyone could come upon you, without concealment? My family’s efforts to reform you will be over the second the duke’s shy, sheltered cousin is seen at a gaming hell. Alone in a dim hallway. With me. Reputation shattered like crystal upon stone. You’ll have to retreat to the country forreal.”
Tugging a mask free, she faced him with a beaten sigh. “I can just pop right out once we’ve had our spot of discussion—”
“Oh, I know all about this spot of conversation I owe you.Owebeing the crucial word.”
“Oh, that bleeding mindreader! Did Finn Alexander look inside without asking? Of all the…” She thumped the parasol on the floor with a growl.
“What mindreader asks before nicking thoughts? Finn isn’t that accommodating.” He shifted, crowding her into the coat rack in a move she hadn’t anticipated. Halting before he touched her, heat from his body seeping through her gown and warming hers. Awareness flowing from her breasts to her toes. She’d never been affected in this way, never felt such sensation. Desire, need,want. She’d ridiculed people who let such yearning trip them up when she was as weak, it seemed. “I’ll ask him to give you privacy of the mind ifyouagree to no more time travel. For now.”
“You don’t own me, Alexander,” she whispered with more bluster than she felt. “I came to 1882 because my time was doomed. I cametonightto find out how much ya’ know. About me, about my…gift.” In response, his gaze glittered in the sconce’s spit of light, dark as coal and telling her nothing. “If I stay, it’s because of the lamps on each and every city street. Fresh water flowing into the house directly. The fine clothes and heaps of food at every meal.” When he didn’t comment, she swallowed deeply, smoothing her hand over the bodice of the loveliest dress she’d ever seen, much lessworn. “And maybe I came for the chance to finally find out who I am.”
Reaching, Simon tipped her chin high. His pupils, unbelievably, had rings close to the color of her gown circling them. Something one would have to be practically touching him to see. She’d have said plum if called to describe it. And she’d always liked plums. “There’s small choice in rotten apples, darling Emmaline.”
“You think ta’ quote Shakespeare to me? You think I won’t know.” She jerked her chin from his hold. “You buffoon.”
Simon blinked, stunned, then a broad smile lit his face, his mahogany eyes glowing.
What the bleeding hell is he smiling about?Emma jabbed the handle of the parasol into his chest and backed him up two steps. “Honest to heaven, I can read, ya’ know! My ma taught me. And she brought home piles of books.” Wedging the faux weapon beneath her arm, she fit the mask over her eyes and reached to tie the satin ribbons at the back of her head. “You must be half-sprung to be quotin’ literature without a chance of anything coming back to you for your fine effort.”
Simon’s smile grew, nearly bursting his cheeks.“Anything coming back to me for my fine effort.” Throwing his head back, he laughed, offering a weak effort at the end to cut the sound by brushing his lips over his sleeve. “I’m only a quarter-sprung, thank you very much. If sober, my effort would be more than fine. It would be grand. And I’d have alotcoming back to me for my fine effort.”
She hissed rather than reply, her fingers slipping on the ribbons.
“Let me. You’re only making a muddle of this.” Brushing aside her hands and her bluster, he turned her by the shoulder until she faced away from him. “Hold the mask in place. You picked the fanciest in the box, by the way. I’m beginning to comprehend your style. Feathers, fake jewels, glitter.”
“I couldn’t even see which one I grabbed!” Although Emmahadfelt the smooth facets of the jewels and the silky feathers. However, her words frittered away, her pulse skipping, her heart racing until it tapped her ribs. There was nothing vulgar or overt about her reaction to his breath stealing across her cheek. His fingertips skimming her hair, brushing the nape of her neck, the sensitive spot beneath her ear. It was a feminine mystery, pure and raw, hers and hers alone.
Unless she let Simon know. Then it would be his, too, which she wasn’t going toeverdo. Not when he hadn’t waited for her.
“Don’t be vexed with Finn. He reads everyone’s mind unless his wife is around,” Simon murmured, his teasing scent drifting past her nose to twist her insides into a tighter knot than the satin ties Simon was manhandling. “Maybe Idoowe you. I would’ve offered up information sooner, how I found you, everything I’ve learned about your gift over the years. But upon our return, I had to sleep for two days to recover from our adventure. To say traveling eighty years in minutes fatigued me would be understating the matter.” In a final move, he took a strand of her hair between his fingers and gave it a gentle tug she felt like a bolt of lightning between her thighs. “Too unique, this color. The inebriated benefactors currently losing their blunt at my gaming tables would remember it. God help us if we stumble upon one of them on our way out. Often, even the back alley is congested at this hour.”
Emma wiggled from his grasp, unable to endure his touch a moment longer. Glanced over her shoulder to find he’d retreated, his back resting against the door, his expression in the shadowed dim unreadable. Hands braced on his hips, an intimidating stance.
But she wasn’t intimidated; she wasfascinated. Just like she’d been from the second she stepped into his world ten years ago.
Pulling herself away from her pointless musings, she gave the mask a nudge with her knuckle to straighten it. “I guess you make use of these often.”
She hoped she didn’t sound jealous when shewasjealous. Of the women he’d taken to the apartment Madame Hebert had mentioned he kept upstairs. The carpet leading to his rooms likely worn thin from the traffic.
“A temper that never tires.”