Page 10 of A Spinster's Guide to Landing a Lyon

“I will do no such thing.” Her blanket pooled at her feet.

“Amelia, this is your life we’re talking about. Hide,” he growled. “Now.”

Fury and fear flashed across her eyes, but he watched as she obediently folded her small frame to hide under the cushions. The strangest thought followed as he took in her actions. He wondered in what other ways she might be obedient with him. There was no time for such a thought. He shoved it aside.

The light thump of the cushions closing triggered him to sit down and wrap himself in the blankets. Two blankets for one man? But he didn’t have time to think about how foolish that might make him look.

The door swung open.

More than half expecting to hear the phrase,Stand and Deliver,Benedict was preparing his reply. First and foremost the explanation for the blankets.

But instead of the warning pronouncement he heard, “Might bit cold, Your Grace?”

The driver gave him an odd look. Then glanced around. “Where’s the lady?”

Benedict watched as the cushions began to move and sat atop them, just in case there were highwaymen out there and this was all a ploy. “What’s the problem? Is there any danger?”

“Just had to stop suddenly at a drunkard coming out of the bushes. Took some yelling and then the rascal cleared out. Just came back here to make sure you two were alright.” He wiped his forehead as he looked around the dark space. “Are you two alright?” There was no doubt that his tone was riddled with doubt. “I’d feel better if I saw the lady, you know, so I don’t have to put a fist in your face. Your Grace.” He tagged on.

“I’m fine,” came a muffled sound. “Oomph.”

Since it seemed as though there was no danger, Benedict lifted himself off the storage space and returned to his seat, thus freeing Amelia.

She rose from the cushions, swiping at her face to clear the hair. “I’m fine,” she grumbled, but flashed a polite—if not sweet—smile at the driver. “I’m happy to hearsomeoneis here to protect me.”

The driver nodded, closed the door, and left.

Amelia teetered as the driver pulled on the carriage to climb aboard. She grasped at the curtains before she begrudgingly squeaked out a strained, “Help.”

Benedict was on his feet in a flash, hands around her waist. Well, he had meant to reach for her waist, but in the chaos his hands had slid quite a bit higher than her waist. In fact, his thumbs could feel the sides of her breasts as he heard her breath catch in her throat.

“I’ve got you, Amelia.” His voice was raspy. When had that happened? His fingers burned into her ribs as his grip tightened. And he was in a state of turmoil for he wanted to keep his handsexactly where they were, yet at the same time he wanted to brush back the lock of hair that was currently caught between her lips.

He swore a small whimper escaped her mouth at his words. Or was it his touch?

But then she rolled her lips together and repeated her earlier declaration. “I’m fine.”

“Yes. You are.” With the slow withdrawal of his hands, he guided her back toward her seat.

Fine was one thing. And she may be it, but in that moment Benedict felt anything but fine.

Chapter Seven

She hadn’t intendedto fall asleep, but slumber hit her as hard and as swift as a tree falling in the forest.

The emotional whirlwind of showing up at the Lyon’s Den, purchasing a husband—who happened to be the handsomest man she had ever laid eyes on and who apparently had no known flaw except arrogance—and almost being shaken down by highwaymen had caught up to her.

So when she let her head momentarily relax back against the squabs, her eyes closed for but a second before she was out.

And if she had known the dreams she would have, she would have fought a little more to stay awake. Surely she wouldn’t have leaned her head back. Without a doubt, she would not have closed her eyes. And with the utmost certainty she would never—upon her life—let her body relax into slumber.

No.

No. She would not have. Because in her dreams, the most alarming events occurred. That handsome face appeared. Cocky as ever. With a smug look on his face that heated her from the inside out.

They were back in the room where they had met. Only…he wasn’t keeping his distance. Like a predator, he approached.Cautiously. Yet with great intention. Nay. Not great intentions. Salacious intentions.

She could see the fire in his eyes. Black. Smoldering.