The former boxer obviously enjoyed using his excessive brawn to maintain the upper hand. But Katherine wasn’t about to let him intimidate her.
Ignoring the sheer overwhelming size of the man, his rough handsomeness, his hard stare, and the male-scented heat that emanated from his person, she stiffened her jaw. “What is your demand?”
He cocked his head. “My demand?”
“What will it take for you to release him?”
“Hmm.” The gravelly, earthy sound vibrated in the breathless inches between them, seeping heavy and warm into her core. “What are you willing to give, sweet dove?”
Her tongue suddenly felt thick in her mouth. “I told you—”
“Ah, yes.” He chuckled. A dangerous sound. “Triple what I was paid to take him. Right?”
She nodded, feeling something strange stirring inside her. Deep in her center.
“Well, then...you’re in luck.” He lifted the hand he had been bracing against the wall beside her shoulder to graze his knuckles along her jaw before tracing the outer curve of her ear with the tip of his finger.
Tingling sparks spread out from his touch, giving rise to gooseflesh across her skin. Katherine had never in her life been touched in such a way. She had no idea how to react. What to think. In the absence of a ready alternative, she simply stared up at him, trying to appear unmoved.
When he spoke next, it was in a coarse and weighted murmur. “How do I know you’re not a threat to him?”
She blinked at the question. “What? Why would I be a threat?” Her brow furrowed. “Do not try to confuse me, Mr. Hale. I will not be deterred.”
“Hmm.”
Again, that sound.
He slid his hand to cup her nape, urging her to tip her head back even farther. Then he lowered his head toward hers. Her belly tightened. His broad features were harsh in the deepening darkness, but an intriguing force flickered in his steady gaze. She wished it wasn’t too dark to determine the color of his eyes. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” he mused. “Too clever for your own good.”
“There’s no such thing,” she retorted firmly despite the flare of alarm in her blood.
He smirked. “Why would a duke’s daughter have need for such daring?”
Her stomach flipped at his casual reference to her father. He knew who she was! Then he knew who Frederick was.
Releasing a breath that had gotten caught in her throat, her next words came out from between clenched teeth. “You will turn him over to me.”
His mouth curved. White teeth flashed. “Will I?”
She lifted her left hand free of her cloak. He stiffened and his grin of masculine superiority fell the instant he felt the nudge of her pistol barrel against the vulnerable flesh of his groin. “You will.”
He cleared his throat. “This is...unexpected.”
“It shouldn’t be,” she noted smoothly. “Dueling pistols always come in pairs.”
The long, blunt fingers around her nape squeezed gently as a heavy breath eased from his lips to warmly bathe her temple. His voice was a low rumble when he replied. “Duels are for arseholes.”
Before she could reply—or even think of a response— he released her nape, captured her left wrist, and shoved it behind her. At the same time, he lowered the hand pinned above her head and brought it together with the first in the small of her back.
“I prefer to do things bare-handed,” he murmured. “More personal, don’t you think?”
Katherine’s breath came fast as she was forced to acknowledge the very strange, very intense sensation of being so utterly trapped by him. His arms caged her as he held her hands behind her back, forcing an arch to her spine that pressed her breasts firmly to his chest. His shoulders blocked out the rest of the room and his thighs bracketed hers.
It was infuriating how easily he’d bested her. Again. But even more than that, it was distressing how her body seemed to awaken within his hold. Her pulse raced, her breath shortened, her skin grew overheated. And deep inside was a delicate, insistent stirring.
“Release me,” she ordered tersely.
“Not a fuckin’ chance.”
His voice was husky and low and her belly twisted tightly in response.
She inhaled a heavy breath, urging her brain to action—to think!
Such a difficult task with his heat and hardness surrounding her, his intense gaze staring into hers, and his mouth—an intriguing twist of humor with curving arcs and firm lines...
But then something he’d said infiltrated the haze of her thoughts. It hadn’t made sense before but...if she adjusted the context...
A fascinating suspicion dawned.
In fact, there was a lot that suddenly made sense. The enigma he presented suddenly offered a glimmer of clarity.
She took another deep breath, causing his gaze to flicker over the rise and fall of her breasts. “You have no reason to keep me,” she stated calmly, firmly. “You will release my brother.”
He tensed his arms around her. The wall of his chest flexed and shifted against her breasts. A strand of his flaxen hair slid from his queue to brush her cheek. “And why would I do that after what you just pulled?” he asked in a sardonic tone.
She could be wrong, but she had nothing to lose by being bold.
“Because you orchestrated this little meeting, didn’t you? You were prepared for Mr. Boothe as soon as you entered this room, though I suspect my presence was a bit of a surprise.” His fingers tightened on her wrists and she continued with confidence. “You came here to ensure I wasn’t a threat to my brother. For some reason you want him to be safe. If that’s true, we’re on the same side.” After a brief hesitation, she added quietly, “Frederick needs me.”
There was a long moment as they stared intently at each other. Their gazes both assessing and probing, weighing risks and calculating outcomes.
After a bit he narrowed his eyes, shielding
