Page 63 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

“Whoa, Stormy,” he said.

She couldn’t help but smile, for Stephen’s baritone was much too low and raspy for a man concentrating on transport.

They halted in front of a white stone and half-timbered building.The Rustic Lanternsign swung in the breeze above a leaded glass window. Three chimneys rose from the steeply pitched roof. Wisps of smoke curled upward, promising cozy warmth.

“Oh,” Madalene exclaimed, her hand on her heart. “It is absolutely charming.” Even more so than she’d imagined. “Do you think knights used to stay here?”

“You Americans,” Stephen said with a soft chuckle. “And probably.”

Myrle and Diggins pulled up beside them, winking and chuckling.

Did they know of Stephen’s arousal and that dampness pooled between her thighs? Or were they simply behaving like their normal feathers-for-brains selves?

“We ain’t got no coin,” Diggins said. “We’re gonna have to share a room with ye two love birds.”

“If ye’s is gonna get”—Myrle jabbed his index finger into the fist of his other hand in an obscene gesture—“amorous,might we watch?”

“Bugger off,” Stephen said.

More liquid dripped into her breeches at Stephen’s protective hiss. Add another nickname to her scandalous list—Madalene Spencer, the depraved wanton hussy.

She reached into her satchel. “I will pay for your room.” She held up two coins. “And it should be as far away from ours as possible.”

Myrle grinned. “Ye’s a lucky bloke, Captain.”

“And you are a bloody fool,” Stephen grumbled.

“Aye, Miss Madalene, maybe a good tup ’ill knock the piss out of his attitude,” Diggins said.

Stephen gritted his teeth and growled at the men, then took the offered coins. She slid back, giving him distance so that he could jump from the horse. He landed gracefully, then helped her down as if she weighed nothing. The man was akin to the broad-shouldered Atlas hefting the heavens about. She exhaled a silly sigh because, apparently, love at first sight made one a sentimental fool.

As the featherbrains dismounted, Stephen glared at them with murderous intent. “Stay here and do not say anything else to her. Do I make myself clear?”

“As a babbling brook,” Diggins said.

Myrle saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Strutting into the inn with an authority befitting a prince, Stephen, and his perfectly shaped derriere, knocked the breath from her lungs. Merciful heavens, she liked his arse. Just add another tally to theMadalene Spencer Is Scandalouslist.

Diggins whistled as his gaze took in everything but her. Myrle’s brow furrowed, and he stared at the inn with such concentration it was a wonder he didn’t suffer an apoplexy. Entertained by the men’s attempts to behave, she grinned so wide her jaw ached.

At length, Stephen exited the inn. His thigh muscles rippled with his purposeful stride.

“We didn’t say nothin’ to her, Captain.” Myrle used his index finger to draw anXon his chest. “Cross me heart.”

“Not a word,” Diggins added.

“They were absolute gentlemen. They didn’t even look at me.” She stood on tiptoe, stretching her arm to pat Myrle on his head as if he were a good puppy. The giant giggled.

Exhaling long and loud, Stephen eyed them all skeptically. “You two”—he glowered at the men—“help me walk the horses across the road to the stable.” His gaze slid to her and softened. “Madalene,ou—yourroom is on the third floor. Use the staircase marked by the bust of Shakespeare, then look for the door with the red lantern painted on it.” His face a brilliant scarlet, he handed her the key.

Had he almost slipped and saidour?And, oh, those endearing flushed cheeks. What would he do if she grasped him, kissed him, and told him to hurry totheir room?As much as she desired to know, she’d spare him the embarrassment.

Hoping that her buttocks looked just as tantalizing as his, she strolled to the entrance, her hips swinging in a devilish taunt.

Stephen’s stare seared the back of her neck.

“Ouch,” one of the scalawags mumbled.