Botheration, here she'd finally screwed up her courage, taken some action, and it was all for naught. Her first adventure certainly hadn't turned out the way she'd hoped. Her better judgment told her it was for the best she hadn't found Gideon. God only knows what might have passed if she'd happened upon him here in the shrouded privacy of the garden.
An image of him drawing her into his arms, kissing her with those beautiful lips that in spite of his uncompromising mouth still managed to somehow look soft, flashed in her mind, rippling a heated tingle down her spine.
Swallowing her disappointment, she turned to make her way back to the house.
Suddenly a muscular arm wrapped around her waist with a viselike grip, jerking her backward, trapping her against a body that felt like a stone wall. Her breath whooshed from her lungs. Before she could pull in enough air to scream, she saw the silver glint of a knife. Then felt the cold press of the blade against her throat.
Chapter 4
'If you scream, it'll be the last sound you ever make.'
The harsh warning whispered past Julianne's ear, and for several frantic heartbeats she froze, immobilized by terror, chilled to her core with fright. Then sheer panic set in, along with the desperate instinct to struggle, an urge she fought to suppress lest she end up with a slit throat.
Her assailant dragged her deeper into the shadows, behind one of the soaring elms. With a deft move, he turned her, pinning her between himself and the tree. He then captured both her hands in one of his, trapping her with strong, calloused fingers, and raised her arms above her head. Rough tree bark bit into her wrists and her back through her gown. The cold knife blade pressed against her throat. And the heat of him sea='1„red her from chest to knee.
Held motionless by the weight of his body and the fear pounding through her, she lifted her gaze to her attacker. And stared.
At Gideon Mayne. Whose stark, angular features appeared set in granite. His gaze raked her face, and recognition flashed in his eyes, followed by a flare of fire that stole what little breath fright hadn't robbed her of. Her relief that he'd recognized her was short-lived, however, when, rather than lowering his knife and releasing her, his forbidding countenance grew even more stern. Was it possible he didn't recognize her after all?
Julianne wet her dry lips then stretched her neck in an attempt to relieve the pressure of the knife. 'Mr. Mayne… 'tis I… Julianne Bradley.'
He remained silent for several seconds, his gaze boring into hers. Finally he spoke, muttering an obscenity that scorched a blush to her cheeks. She felt him turn the knife a bit, hopefully so that the sharp blade didn't gouge her skin, although he didn't lower the weapon. 'So I see. What the bloody hell are you doing out here?'
His voice was a rough rasp that sent another tingle skittering down her spine. With a calm she was far from feeling, she managed to reply, 'I'd be delighted to tell you as soon as you remove that knife from my throat.'
Instead of instantly complying, he narrowed his eyes. 'You're lucky I didn't slit your damn throat.'
She raised her brows. 'So it would seem. But unless you still intend to do so, I must ask you to remove your weapon.'
Without taking his gaze from hers, he slowly lowered the knife, and she swallowed. He did not, however, release her hands or step back.
With her initial fright abated, she became acutely aware of him. His hard body resting against hers. The heat emanating from him. His large, calloused hand holding hers over her head. The fire simmering in his gaze. And suddenly she no longer felt in the least bit cold. Indeed, she felt as if she stood in a circle of flame.
She drew in an unsteady breath and caught his subtle scent. It was crisp and pleasing, and somehow… familiar? Unlike the usual gentlemen of her acquaintance, Gideon didn't smell like any fragrance from a bottle. He simply smelled clean, like fresh soap and warm skin, but with an added dash of dark, elusive danger and adventure. The scent intoxicated her, and she found herself pulling in another long, slow breath.
Her common sense coughed to life, demanding that she order him to release her. To step back. But her lips refused to form the words.
'The knife's gone, so now you'll answer my question,' he said brusquely. 'What are you doing out here?'
'I…'
His scowl deepened. 'So you ventured outdoors
His tone clearly indicated how foolish he thought her, and an embarrassed flush sizzled up from her neck. Before she could think of a reply that wouldn't necessitate admitting she knew she wouldn't be alone, knew he was in the garden, he continued, 'Where the bloody hell is your chaperone? Don't you know there's been a rash of crimes? That thieves and murderers and all manner of dangers lurk in the darkness? Of all the bloody stupid-'
'I wasn't alone.' The truth rushed from her lips before she could stop it.
He went perfectly still, then his expression turned flat. 'I see.' He gave a quick glance around. 'So where is the…
A frisson of anger worked its way through her heated awareness of him and the remnants of her fear and surprise. Clearly he thought her not only stupid but promiscuous as well. She hadn't ventured into the garden without careful consideration. As for being promiscuous, nothing could be farther from the truth-at least in deed. Surely her private thoughts and secret desires didn't count. Why, she'd never even been kissed!
She raised her chin and squarely met his gaze. 'He's right in front of me. Although based on the way you grabbed me, nearly slit my throat, and continue to manhandle me, I'm not inclined to describe you as a gentleman at the moment.'
His gaze roamed over her with bold thoroughness, lingering for several seconds on the skin above her bodice before rising to meet her eyes. A wave of heat swamped her. Had he detected the frantic beating of her heart-a staccato rhythm that was entirely his fault?
'No one has ever accused me of being a gentleman,' he said with the hint of a sneer, making it clear that was quite all right with him.
'Do you normally treat women you meet in gardens in such a barbaric manner?'
'I wasn't aware we'd planned an assignation, Lady Julianne.'
'You know as well as I that we hadn't.'
'Well, then. As for my 'barbaric manner,' I don't trust anyone who's behind me. Something you'd do well to remember, since it's clearly your habit to skulk about in places you shouldn't be.'
Annoyance-at herself for being caught in such a mortifying fashion and at him for catching her-stiffened her spine. 'I assure you I wasn't skulking. I saw you leave the drawing room and… I wished to speak to you. I knew you could protect me from any dangers lurking in the dark.'
'Indeed?' The single word was spoken in a silky whisper that breathed warm against her cheek. 'And just who do you suppose is going to protect you from me?'
