Chapter Twelve

A n hour later, the crush of carriages in the street was enough to block traffic for two straight days.

Percy spied a disgruntled coachman waving from the top of a lion-crested carriage— his coach and man, he reminded himself—and Percy returned the man's hand signals with a clipped, " Move when you can. We will walk. "

The man's eyes widened, surprised, no doubt, that the new Duke of Grandfellow was versed in the common language of servicemen. He tipped his hat in understanding.

Danny, of course, missed nothing.

"Always a surprise," she said as they skirted the traffic and crossed the road to a quieter side street. "Any other hidden talents, Your Grace?"

Oh, what he could do with hot wax and a splattering of whipped milk.

"It wouldn't be any fun if I told you," he said. Showing her, on the other hand...

A playful finger traced his bicep, and Percy felt the light touch down to his groin.

"I couldn't persuade you to reconsider?"

God blast it all, the sound of her husky voice was worse than torture.

"Put that smart mouth to good use, and I'll divulge every last secret I know," he challenged, not caring if national security could handle the breach when he sang like a bird.

Those flirting eyes widened. Licking her lips, she glanced at the quiet alley, the cramped layout of the buildings casting long shadows even in the middle of the day. "Here?"

"Why not?"

Her curiosity got the better of her. "What do I do?"

Jesus, she couldn't be serious? "Get on your knees."

He made the command in jest.

Despite knowing her fearlessness, he had been teasing. The alleys at the edge of St. Giles Rookery—a route his distracted mind had taken by rote— were deserted this time of day with most residents working their shifts at the local mills. They were also invested with filth and prostitutes on a good day, pickpockets and cutthroats on a bad.

A heightened sense of danger taking hold because of the woman at his side or old paranoia out of self-preservation rising to the surface, Percy's gaze swept the dark alcoves and the nearby roofs for unwelcome eyes.

It wouldn't be prudent or safe to linger here. He'd whisk Danny somewhere safe and then they could resume their fun.

But Danny had no intention of waiting. She dropped down in front of him, her clever fingers working open the fly to his trousers without a word of instruction or encouragement. He had to stop this.

"Danny—"

"Shh. I'm concentrating."

Percy was mesmerized by the lovely V between her brows until the last button slid through its hole and his cock sprang free, pointing due north with confidence.

Her shocked gasp was quickly followed up with the exclamation, "My, you're large."

Percy gritted his teeth as her compliment brushed hot air across his crown. "Thank you, my dear. I do try."

Her fingers tickled his length in a querying touch.

Cock jumping, Percy pulled back. He'd taken this too far. The woman was magic and mayhem. Instead of disgust and outrage at his tasteless teasing, she was compliant. Interested. Innocent .

Her hands were instantly there, stopping him from wrestling himself back into his stays. "I'm not done."

"Trust me, darling." He restrained her with a light circling of her wrists. "What I had in mind isn't for a lady, and I'm a rutty scumbag for suggesting it."

Her struggles stopped, but the stubborn glint in her eye said she wasn't done. "Would it bring you pleasure?"

Fucking over the clouds . He wouldn't admit it.

But the woman was a bloodhound and wouldn't accept less than all his secrets. "Your ear wiggled."

Damn it!

"Yes." He dropped her hands and ran his own through his hair. "Men like getting their cock in a willing woman's mouth. It's crude and undignified and feels like having your personal demons sucked out of your body by an angel. But the mere thought of you putting your mouth on me..." He grasped himself in hand and rubbed the white that beaded out around his crown with his thumb. "God, I don't think I'd survive."

His words registered in her eyes, and the answering call of desire pushed his back to the alley wall.

She didn't beg or flirt. Without looking away, she slid her hand down his length and pressed pursed lips to his tip.

Percy knocked his head against the wall, the last of his willpower fading in a last effort whisper of reason. "Danny, I was teasing ."

She smiled, that sunlit halo behind her head setting off a predatory glow in her eyes. "Then you challenged the wrong lady, sir."

And she dragged him up to heaven.

*

The wanton lady on her knees was another woman. Danny had no idea where she'd come from or how she knew how to drag her tongue along the velvet of him before drawing him inside, but she reveled in the feeling, in the sense of control.

He tasted like salt and unfettered lust. The very length and solid feel of him against her tongue was like a blunt blade, at any moment ready to twist and cut her innocence in two.

Danny dug her nails into his hips, needing him deeper, needing all of him inside.

The tip of him hit the back of her throat and liquid heat slipped down her thighs.

She sighed.

"Danny."

His hands fisted in her hair, ruining her coif and shooting sensation to her toes.

"Danny," he said again. "Stop this."

Never .

But she heard his reservations and shame, so much like her own buried where no one was supposed to see, and she wouldn't deny him his consent.

She slipped him out of her mouth, sucking the full length of him until the suction on his tip dropped more of that salty white onto her tongue. With effort, she looked away from the sword she desperately wanted to sheathe, and asked, "Shall I stop, Percy?"

She dared him to lie. Dared him to deny what they both wanted. She'd leave it to him to decide. He was a worldly man who'd been through unspeakable things. If he meant what he'd said about his tastes being demonic, then she wanted to sink into hell to meet his needs, needs she was quickly coming to realize matched hers.

There was no fear, no shame. Whoever this man brought out in her was the real her. She'd wasted three long years pretending.

No longer.

She willed her desires to show on her face. Willed her fantasies not to send her over the edge even as her legs grew slippery with arousal for him, for this.

He saw it all. Gaze going wild, he twisted his fingers in her hair and growled, "Saints above, forgive me."

Grip tightening, he impaled himself into her waiting mouth and all other prayers and coherent thoughts were lost in a tight rhythm that left them both panting.

In, out, in, out. Each brush of that saltiness on the back of her throat drove her to rush his pace, needing more. Apple scones were nothing compared to the all-male, all savory, and hot taste of him. She only hoped there was more; the inconsistent trickle of moisture he gave her wasn't enough.

He took over the rhythm, pumping into her mouth with inhuman grunts. His loss of control was too much.

The wet friction had her clenching her knees together. She tumbled over that edge, sucking him inside to his root when her climax dragged a moan from the very core of her being.

The fingers in her hair clutched her to him. "Danny, I can't—"

He moved back.

Her teeth stayed him; her hand went instinctively to cup the heavy sac at his base.

A violent shudder racked his body, and then at last that salty taste poured across her tongue.

This went beyond friendship, certainly beyond mere lust. Neither had looked away as the other came. Their gazes had locked, the feelings shared. Danny would swear they'd been of one mind and body in that moment of lost pleasure.

When his climax ended, he pulled free of her mouth and dropped to his knees in front of her. With gentle hands, he cupped her face, his expression open and achingly soft.

They stared at one another. No words were spoken. Their bodies had done the talking, a conversation of soul-searing magnitude.

What were words but precursors to action?

Danny didn't speak. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his mouth and smiled at his huffed laugh.

He didn't let her pull away. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers. "I've seen heaven."

Danny's smile grew. "If heaven feels like that, I may join my mama in church from now on."

"Blasphemy!"

She loved his quick wit and the ease of his company. They'd urged each other to come in a public space, in broad daylight, in the most vulnerable of positions, and nothing about it felt awkward.

Being with him was as natural as breathing.

"Can you stand?" he asked softly.

"If I can't, will you carry me?"

That laughter again. The sound was rough and beautiful. "I'll carry you to the nearest inn and spread you on the bed for my evening meal."

She shivered at his silky threat. "Oh, no! It looks as if my legs won't work, sir."

He helped her up and dropped a kiss on her brow, his grin positively feline as he buttoned his trousers. "Minx." The humor faded. "If I don't return you home soon, not even your sister will be able to keep up the ruse we silently agreed to attend."

"And what ruse would that be?"

"That I'm an honorable man who won't sully your virtue at the first available opportunity."

She pursed her lips together to keep in a smile and said with all the seriousness she could muster, "This was hardly the first sullying."

"Good point." He dragged her to him and made quick work of her lips, tongue, and knowledge of the English language.

Danny contained her squeal of delight when that expert tongue flicked out and tasted the delicate spot on her jawline right beside her ear.

Her core went liquid, sending slick want down her still-damp thighs.

"What we 'ave here, Freddy?"

Pleasure turned to ice in her veins.

They tore apart as two figures stepped into the shadows, each carrying a knife as long as her forearm. But it was the wicked gleam in their eyes that had Danny's fluttering stomach dropping out.

Both were broad, young. They were wearing long coats too big for their frames and had the same ruddy-cheeked faces.

Danny rubbed at her eyes, sure she was seeing double.

The twin on the right laughed, a hoarse, ugly sound. "Bloke was telling the truth. I'll be damned."

Percy tensed at her side. "What do you want?"

"Payment."

"What payment?" Percy glanced at the rooftops, his jaw tight. He mumbled something that sounded like, "There had been eyes on us." Louder, he said, "Who told you we were here?"

"What's this? A talkative mark?" The man elbowed his brother. "Freddy, the bastard wants to talk."

"No time for that." Freddy's gaze raked over Danny's body. "I'm eager for payment."

Danny shuddered as Percy placed her behind him.

"When I tell you to," he whispered, "run."

Panic pitched her words high. "There are two of them!"

"And more on the way." Freddy sidestepped, placing himself in her path of escape with a triumphant smile. "No use running, chicken."

"Not in those fine skirts." The brother laughed.

"Go on, George." Freddy nodded towards Percy. "But don't be too quick." His slimy gaze landed on Danny once again. "I want to take my time."

Danny's hand went to her reticule and to her pistol safely tucked inside, but Percy's hand stayed her.

His head shake was infinitesimal.

She heard his unspoken words: I'll take care of them. Run.

Running solved nothing, she knew firsthand. The clawed fingers of memory snagged at her calm, but Danny wouldn't let herself fall apart. Not here and not now.

Gaze flicking to the glint of blades and hearing the man's words more on the way , Danny took stock of her limited weapons—a single bullet in her pistol's chamber with two bodies to stop—and swallowed her frustration down to do the only thing she could.

She screamed.

All three men cringed.

In between one scream and the next, Freddy spat at his brother, "Shut 'er up before we 'ave the bobbies chasin' us down."

Percy shook off his shock as the other twin stalked forward and sent him to the ground with a kick to the knee and a nasty crack to the face.

George went down, cradling his leg and spitting curses.

While Freddy skirted back, using his brother's body as an obstacle, Percy had no choice but to step over in the narrow alley.

Danny drew the gun from her reticule and trained it on George, who froze coming to his feet. "Don't move," she said.

Percy wrestled with his opponent, but Freddy got in a lucky shot to his shoulder. He went down and the twin beelined straight for her.

Danny whirled to face him head on, shifting the gun to retrain the scope.

Fingers wrapped around her ankle and pulled the legs out from under her. She went down in a heap of skirts, her hip smarting as it struck the cobblestones.

The gun went off with a loud crack and fell out of her hands, now useless.

Percy's shout of warning came too late.

George staggered to his feet and Danny yelped as his hand fisted in her hair and dragged her against him.

"It's over, bitch," he spat in her ear. To Percy, he said, "One more step and girly 'ere gets jabbed."

Percy released his fresh hold on Freddy, his gaze fastening on the knife George tapped against his leg.

Freddy came to stand at his brother's side, his teeth stained with blood when he smiled.

"That's better now." George wiped a meaty hand across his face, blood from his nose smearing. "You're a tough bastard, I'll give you that," he said to Percy. "Now, drop that knife and put your 'ands on the wall so my brother here can settle this quiet."

Percy didn't move. "Let her go, and I'll do as you say."

"Percy, no—"

George's fingers yanked at her hair, successfully cutting off her plea. "Keep your mouth shut, girly." His other hand ran down her arm suggestively. "You'll 'ave your turn, don't you worry."

Danny shuddered and cold sweat plastered her dress to her back. Not for fear for herself. The idea of Percy hurt...

"Do. Not. Touch. Her."

Danny noticed the noise from the alleys nearby had gone alarmingly silent at Percy's growl.

George chuckled. "Listen to 'im, Freddy. No need for the bobbies. We got a 'ero on our 'ands."

They laughed.

But Danny wasn't looking at the twins. Her gaze stayed fixed on him , watching those smiling eyes turn cold, as if humor had never touched them.

Her neck hairs bristled.

Before her eyes, Percy changed from the teasing man of mystery to a creature of the dark. A man who haunted the steps of those deserving punishment. For the first time, Danny questioned her unfailing gut.

Percy tipped forward, his hands crossing in front of him to snake inside his coat pockets, but he didn't straighten, even when two knives slid into his hands and dropped to his sides like two bodies hung from the rafters.

From the darkness, a voice said, "There are no heroes here, gents."

Danny felt a chill settle over the alley at the eerie voice, Percy's voice.

She swore his next words were whispered in her ear.

"Only a demon."

Danny gasped.

How he'd gotten behind them was a trick of the shadows. One second he'd been in front of them, his eyes dark, his body slumped over like a puppet with loose strings, and then he'd been at their backs, knives in hand.

A flash and Freddy went down, blood spattering the alley wall.

George spun, taking Danny with him. His eyes widened in spooked recognition until a ring of white hugged his pupils. He whispered a name everyone knew to fear. "Butcher."

In his panic, he stepped back, twisting Danny too far to one side and slicing a gash in her arm.

The sting dulled almost immediately, and Danny was transported back eleven years to a different night and the cold feeling of hands on her person. Her pain churned into fear, shifted, coiled deeper and hot in her belly.

The thug's knife tapped the underside of her chin.

And the fear shifted again, until the intimacy of the blade scraping against her neck felt scorching, pleasing, even with the wrongness of her reaction sprouting cold sweat over her body.

A small moan burst through her lips before she clamped her teeth together.

George hesitated at the sound, relaxing his grip on her shoulders and turning away from Percy's looming presence.

His mistake.

Percy slipped between them and rammed the hilt of his knife into George's temple.

The man dropped, knife clattering to the cobblestones.

Danny willed her racing heart to slow, prayed the boiling heat in her veins to lessen. But the man's blade had skidded to a stop at the toe of her slipper, the tip piercing the satin. The visual of penetration, the knowledge that the smallest shift of her foot and the bite of the steel would catch her toes... Danny grabbed at the skirts between her legs and fought another moan.

"Danny?"

She glanced up from the knife to see Percy, his face a mask of horror.

Oh, God .

There was no relief at the thug's disarmament. Danny kicked the knife away and dropped to the freezing cobblestones, the pleasure draining away to leave behind waves of sick.

It was over. There was no use hiding it anymore.

The demon inside her had been released and no amount of praying would keep the world from seeing. From him seeing.

And condemning her like the broken woman she was.