Perilous Risk by Natasha Blackthorne

Rebecca’s state of agitation that she didn’t ask him how he happened to have such intimate knowledge of the Lloyd household. Though it might have been passed off as whispered tittle-tattle, Lady Ruel was an exceptionally private person. She had no friends among her peers to confide in and have such matters whispered about. But that wasn’t what was most important at present. He’d had to make Rebecca understand. Only putting matters so bluntly and revealing his private knowledge would have sufficed to turn Rebecca’s mind.
    “You can’t wait for Ruel.” He pressed the issue whilst she was still confused, still off-balance.
    She cocked her head to one side and her forehead wrinkled as though with consternation. “But you said there was no immediate danger to me.”
    “I never said that.”
    “You said she wasn’t really interested in blaming me for Saxby’s death.”
    “Logically, I predict that she isn’t.”
    Again, her brows drew closer together. “So there’s no real danger there? Do you think she’s just bluffing ?”
    God, she sounded so hopeful. And this was all tearing him apart inside. Literally, for a slow yet steady burn had begun to smoulder in his belly.
    “Rebecca, logic isn’t always an accurate gauge of what a person will do. Especially if they are unbalanced in any way. And I need to hear more about what she really wants, before I can more accurately predict her future behaviour.”
    Her eyes widened and she blanched. How he wished he hadn’t had to tell her that part. She had looked quite lovely with her angry flush just a few moments past when she had been hotly cross-examining him over his title. And it hurt him to know she was once again frightened.
    Now her shoulders drooped even more. “Please, I am very tired and I need to return home.”
    Time for another bit of bad news. But he had no choice. “No, you can’t go home.”
    “Why not?”
    “If she called for a magistrate, they could come at any time and take you away. And it would be more difficult once you were in custody for me to assure your safety. You could come to some harm there.”
    Her faced went ashen and she closed her eyes. “Oh God.”
    He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, I am going to do my utmost to protect you.”
    “I don’t know what to do.” Her chest rose and fell rapidly, the sound of her panting breaths echoing softly, the sound exaggerated by the closed space.
    There was something oddly compelling about that sound, combined with watching the rise and fall of her breasts, the size of early summer peaches. It put him immediately in mind of what she would look like in bed, beneath him, on the verge of coming. It made his own breath begin to quicken. It put fire in his blood.
    It was giving him an erection.
    He’d been fortunate not to have ever had to physically torture a woman. But over the years, he had applied mental and emotional techniques when needful during interrogations of women. Their tears had left him feeling nothing but a certain discomfort to cause a woman distress.
    Yet, if he liked a woman, her tears, her visible signs of fear aroused him. It was something that rested uneasily on his mind and conscience. He had certainly never explored the phenomenon. It made him too uncomfortably aware of how closely he matched the other flawed males of his bloodline.
    He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. “Rebecca, please trust me.”
    But it was as though she hadn’t heard. Her chest rose and fell even more quickly, and her eyes glazed over.
    A bolt of pure lust shot into his loins. It was reprehensible of him. Utterly reprehensible.
    “I don’t know what I should do!” Her hands gripped his, her nails digging into his flesh like claws. “I can’t go to prison. I can’t!”
    He pulled her close. “Shh-shh.”
    Her body, so warm in his arms, began to tremble. “I can’t face this!”
    “You’ve always been strong.” She’d been an inspiration to him as a boy, when he’d