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I will do whatever it takes . . .

At the touch of Finn’s hand to hers, Macie’s heartbeat nearly skipped a beat. His voice had gone low, the husky rasp stirring an instinctive awareness within her. Gone was the lightly teasing banter in his tone, the humor in his words when he contemplated adding a snarl to appear more forbidding. The man whose gaze studied her face in that moment had uttered the words as a vow.

How very unexpected. She’d looked upon Finn as a man who’d lived his life on his own terms. Seeking unfettered experience, he had not burdened himself with bonds of the heart. Yet his words rang true. He was set on protecting her.

Drawing in a low breath, Macie steadied her emotions, and with them, the beat of her heart. The heat of Finn’s hand against hers had been quite delicious. There was no denying her body’s response to his nearly chaste touch.

The expression in his eyes was entirely unfamiliar. The young man she’d known all those years ago had been light-hearted, a brash rogue whose ready smile afforded him the ability to charm his way out of any fix. Why, he could even elicit a chuckle from her notoriously gruff father. A rare feat, indeed.

Now Finn had grown so very serious. Truth be told, his determination to protect her touched something deep within her. She trusted him, a rare thing, indeed.

If only he did not appear so suddenly dour. Shepherding her about town while pretending an infatuation should not seem a Herculean task. At the moment, she rather missed the charming man who’d shown up to a ball simply to see if she’d grown into the legs which had once seemed a bit too long for her body.

She let out a little sigh. “All this talk of danger... I don’t know what has come over you, but I do not much care for it.”

Raking long fingers through his hair, he studied her. “We both know what a woman on her own may face. I gave my word that I would watch over ye.”

Watch over . The words chafed like too-tight shoes. Good heavens, she was a woman, not a giddy schoolgirl. The very notion cut against the grain. If Finn thought to use the elderly intruder as justification to cage her like some blasted parakeet, he would soon find he was very much mistaken.

“I’m sure you’re aware my brother is far more worried about our not-quite-spotless name—at least protecting it from further tarnish—than protecting me from a ghoul or two lurking about after dark.”

“It’s not the blasted ghouls that concern me.” He sounded gruff and grouchy and all–too appealing. “In any case, we should see to getting some food in our bellies. I know of a quiet café—not nearly as posh as a countess’s drawing room, but the cook knows what he’s about and the company is good.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Ye’re certain?” His forehead furrowed. “If ye’re disappointed about the countess’s gathering, we can make an appearance. Unfashionably late or not.”

“Disappointed?” She eyed him skeptically. “Surely you know that is not the case.”

“I suspected as much.” A smile played on his mouth. “But ye found my effort gentlemanly, did ye not?”

“Even Sir Lancelot could not have appeared more gallant.”

“Ah, so I’m in good company,” he said, then called up to Reggie, alerting the driver to their change of destination—the Rogue’s Respite.

“A café for rogues?” Macie arched a brow.

“Seems appropriate, does it not?” The slightest of grins quirked one corner of his mouth.

“Quite so,” she agreed.

He leaned back against the upholstery, appearing relaxed for the first time that night. “Ye’ll like it, lass. Besides, there’s someone I’d like ye to meet.”

“I simply must seek out a chat with Lady Yarbury. I’ve heard she is quite fascinating. Each month, on the night of the full moon, she invites a medium to conduct a seance. I’d relish the opportunity to set up my camera and capture the scene.”

“Full moon, eh?” His brows hiked. “Does the medium intend to summon a wulver?”

“A Scottish wolf-man?” Macie could not help but smile. “I suppose he might be wearing a kilt.”

“All the better to accommodate his tail,” he said in mock seriousness. Amusement gleamed in his eyes. Now that was the Finn she knew.

“If such a creature would put in an appearance, I would like to make its portrait. Sadly, I doubt it would cooperate long enough to pose.”

“Ah, that’s where ye’re wrong.” A grin played on his mouth. “Any self-respecting Scot would savor the opportunity to spend his night with a lovely woman.”

“Including you?” she teased as the carriage slowed.

“Ye already know the answer, lass.” His eyes flashed with the same cockiness that flavored his husky voice. Why did she find his brash confidence so very appealing?

The driver brought the coach to a stop before a quaint café on a pleasantly quiet street. A light fog had descended upon the city. As Finn escorted her from the coach, gaslight filtered through the haze, casting golden light over his chiseled features.

My, the man could certainly conjure a delicious dream or two. Decidedly improper dreams, to be sure. Her eyes drank in his strong chin. His full mouth. Oh, his kiss would be so very, very tempting.

One kiss would never be enough.

Macie let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Putting on an act was one thing. But dreaming of his caress—while fully awake, no less—was a recipe for disaster. She would be in over her head before she knew it. The peculiar longing in the region of her heart was all the proof she needed. Giving in to temptation would be far too dangerous. Definitely a chance she could not take.

Or would the surrender be worth every moment of risk?

*

Savoring a fine Scotch, Finn drank in the quiet of Logan MacLain’s latest venture, a café MacLain had aptly dubbed the Rogue’s Respite. Gaslight cast a subtle ambiance on the deep-brown woods and leather décor while a lone pianist played with a light touch, enhancing the relaxed atmosphere. Seated across from him, Macie nibbled on finger-sized watercress sandwiches. Meeting his gaze, Macie’s mouth curved into a subtle smile. Serene, for all to see.

But Finn knew better.

Despite the years and distance that had separated them, he could still read the subtle hints of tension. The slight narrowing of her eyes. The thinning of her lips. The light tap of her finger against the tabletop. Deep inside, Macie was anything but calm. Anything but at ease. Had the discovery of an intruder at the old house shaken her more than she wished to let on?

He leaned back against the plush upholstered chair, catching sight of Logan and his wife as they strolled into the café. Logan nodded a silent greeting before heading to the immense oak bar, while Amelia MacLain hurried to their table. Her warmth shone bright in her eyes. Logan was a lucky man. Bloody lucky, indeed.

She beamed with a genuine smile. “It’s good to see you, Finn.”

“Ye’re radiant, as always,” he said, speaking the truth.

A slight blush spread over her cheeks. “You are too kind.” Her smile widened as she turned to Macie. “This must be Miss Mason. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Please, call me Macie. It’s my pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been a bit remiss in sending an invitation to our home,” Amelia said. “In the last few weeks, I’ve been preoccupied with preparing the nursery. I suppose I will be able to relax once Logan and I have settled on a name for our babe. Suffice it to say, we do not see eye to eye on the subject.”

“Ye’ll work it out,” Finn said. “Ye always do.”

“Quite so,” Amelia beamed. “You had faith in us from the very beginning, didn’t you?”

“I had no doubt. From the very first, I could see the way he looked at you.”

Logan turned from the bar. As he headed to their table, his wife’s gaze warmed. “Ah, the king surveying his kingdom,” she said, flashing a cheeky grin.

“King, eh?” Logan cocked a brow at his wife. “Remember that when we are at home tonight, my love.”

“ This is your kingdom,” she countered. “Our home is not.”

Logan wrapped a possessive arm around her. “Is it any wonder I love this woman?”

“’Tis not a mystery,” Finn said. His cousin had found happiness with a woman he would treasure until his last breath.

“I do hope you’ll join us?” Macie said with a broad smile.

“We would be delighted,” Amelia replied.

After the MacLains settled in at the table, a robust conversation followed, continuing through their meal. Finn had savored his last bite of beef stew before their discussion turned to the intruder at Bennington Manor.

“I understand the man has not yet regained consciousness,” Logan said, direct as ever.

“Word has traveled at the Rogue’s Lair, I take it,” Finn replied.

“The local constable is a talkative gent. Do the detectives have any clue as to the stranger’s identity?”

“I don’t believe so,” Macie spoke up. “He carried no identification.”

“Such an unfortunate situation,” Amelia said.

“I suspect the man was harmless,” Macie went on. “Though my heart was in my throat when I discovered him rummaging through my grandfather’s books.”

“How frightening.” Amelia’s brow furrowed with concern. “And you have no idea of his reasons?”

“He may have been seeking help,” Macie replied. “Inspector Bradley is of the opinion the man poses no threat.”

“Bradley, eh?” Logan’s tone betrayed he shared Finn’s disdain for the man.

“The bloke came to that conclusion with remarkable haste. He presumes the intruder’s presence was merely a random turn of events,” Finn explained. “Blasted convenient, if ye ask me.”

Logan turned to Finn. “Ye’ve secured the house?”

Finn felt a muscle in his jaw tighten. “For now. I’ll do more in the morning.”

“The inspector is confident there is no danger,” Macie said. “I see no reason to worry.”

“Worry serves no point,” Finn agreed. “But we will not let down our guard until we know how a stranger found his way into the place.”

“I will assist ye in thoroughly inspecting the premises in the morning,” Logan said.

“Excellent.” Macie’s mood seemed to brighten. “In that case, we shall put our concerns to rest. I’m more concerned with the lighting tomorrow afternoon. With any luck, conditions will be perfect to set up my camera.”

“Ye should not be alone,” Finn countered. “The Tower would be bloody safer than working in that house.”

Macie frowned, scrunching her pert nose. “Sadly, that might be a bit of a challenge to arrange. A haunted mansion or two will have to suffice.”

The little dimple in her cheek pulled his gaze like a magnet. Blast it all, he could be a much more effective bodyguard if her every expression did not draw him in. He cleared his throat, if only to buy time to refocus his thoughts.

“After what happened today, ye will not stay alone at that house.”

“Oh, won’t I?” Her coral lips pursed. “I intend to establish my photography studio within Bennington Manor. Besides, I am planning an exhibition with a gothic aesthetic. What better place to start than my own personal haunted house?”

Gothic aesthetic. Haunted houses. Bloody hell, what had he gotten himself into? Chasing off money-hungry lords was one thing. But this... this was something else entirely. By thunder, the woman was impossible to predict. He doubted he could ever fully anticipate—let alone prepare for—what she’d come up with next. Blasted shame that intrigued him so much.

“You believe your grandfather’s house is home to spirits?” Amelia’s eyes lit with interest.

“Oh, most definitely,” Macie said with a gleam in her eyes. “I’ve felt a chill on more than one occasion.”

“Not surprising in that drafty old house,” Finn said with a chuckle.

She flashed a little scowl. “In any case, I would like to believe the tales my grandfather told—at least some of them—are true. I’ll have you know I’ve seen things that cannot be explained.”

“One of them is lying in the hospital,” Finn said. “Until the bloke recovers enough to be questioned, there’s no telling why he was there.”

“The detective believes the poor man had suffered a violent threat. His heart could not endure the strain,” Macie countered.

“Bradley is wrong,” Finn disagreed. “Street toughs did not attack that man. I’d wager my last shilling on that.”

“Phineas Caldwell, I had never taken you for a worrier,” she said with a lightness that did not reach her eyes.

Worrier. The casually spoken word felt like a pebble beneath his heel. No one could have described him in those terms. But in all fairness, he had never before taken on the task of protecting anyone. Much less a woman.

A woman like Macie.

In his gut, he knew the inspector was wrong. The elderly intruder had been on the verge of death. And yet, he’d used the last of his strength to tear through the books on the shelves. He’d been searching for something. But what?

“The man in yer grandfather’s library was not there by chance. In yer bones, ye know that as well as I do,” Finn said. “Until the old gent wakes up, there’s no bloody way of telling what he was after. Or who else may be coming after it.”

“Ye suspect the man was not working alone?” Logan said.

“That may be the case.”

Macie propped her chin on her folded hand. “Surely you don’t believe there’s another stranger lurking about, ready to pounce?”

Finn met her gaze. “We cannot rule it out. Not yet.”

“He’s right,” Amelia said in a low voice. “I do not wish to frighten you, Macie, but you must exercise caution. Some time ago, I experienced a rather similar occurrence.”

Macie’s eyes widened. “Good heavens, I had no idea. Will you tell me more?”

Amelia’s features pulled taut with tension. “Before Logan and I married, I’d established a small library, not far from here. One evening, I encountered a violent intruder ransacking the shelves. Logan was there to stop him, and for a time, I wanted to believe the moments of danger were over and done. But I was mistaken.”

“Oh, dear,” Macie said softly. “What happened?”

“Someday, I shall tell you the entire story, but for now, suffice it to say the intruder was not the only vile threat we faced.” Amelia’s mouth thinned at the memory, but the tense set of her features eased as her gaze fell on her husband. “The only bright side to all the unpleasantness was that it brought us together.”

“Indeed,” Logan said, sending his wife a warm glance. “As for the present situation, until we can be certain the man ye encountered did not have an accomplice, ye must not let down your guard.”

“I do understand.” Macie’s expression was pensive. “Well, this does complicate our arrangement, doesn’t it?”

“Ye could say that,” Finn agreed. “Jon trusted me to keep ye safe. And I intend to do just that.”

“While I do see the need for caution, I cannot bear the thought of being confined to a luxurious prison.” Her eyes glimmered with determination. “Are we to assume that Phineas Caldwell, my ever-vigilant protector, will stand at the ready against any threat, including the occasional villain?”

Why did he have the sudden feeling he was about to walk into quicksand? “If need be.”

Her plump mouth curved into a defiant, too blasted tempting smile. “I plan to spend my days at Bennington Manor. And wherever else the muse may lead. I trust you do not harbor a fear of ghosts.”

He scrubbed his hand against his jaw, as if that might ease the tension coursing through his bones. Macie had no right to be so blasted appealing, especially when she was determined to make his life a blasted challenge.

“The dead do not concern me. The creatures I’m watching for still live and breathe.”

Her eyes widened. Appearing to mull over his words, she grazed her teeth over her plump lower lip.

“I thought as much.” She regarded him rather intently. “In that case, I will count on you to chase off whatever loathsome creatures are lurking in the dark. I suspect most will be of the four-legged variety, but I do hope the rumors of your rough-and-ready exploits are true.”

He resisted the urge to scowl. Blast it . Had Jon regaled Macie with puffed-up tales? Boxing was a means of using his fists to ease the tension in his mind. He confined his bouts to the gymnasium, with notable exceptions. More than one arrogant bloke had underestimated Finn’s drive to win. But no one would ever have confused him with Gentleman Jim Corbett.

“Rough-and-ready exploits. Do tell,” Amelia said.

“I’d wager Miss Mason’s brother has exaggerated my success in the ring.” Finn kept his tone cool.

“And I’d bet a bottle of good Scotch he was not talking about yer civilized bouts,” Logan said with a knowing smile. “Jon chose you to protect his sister because you possess certain skills. We both know that at times, it takes a brawler to defend a lady.”