For the Love of a Soldier (15 page)

She blinked, swallowing to put saliva back into her suddenly dry mouth.

What had been her point?

Her body felt lighter and she jerked back when it leaned
toward his. She shifted into the corner of the coach, away from him. “Yes, well, of course not.”

Kendall laughed. The sound was rich and appealing and it softened the hard contours of his face, warming them and making him years younger. He sat back. “Good. That should make things so much easier between us.”

“Yes, it should,” she muttered and turned toward the carriage window, hoping she voiced the truth.

G
ARRETT
grinned at Alexandra’s profile. He’d been dismissed, but he was too intrigued with their discussion to take offense.

So, the lady believed herself immune to seduction?

He refused to believe she was so innocent as to be blind to the danger in her words. He had yet to refuse a challenge, and he had no intentions of ignoring this one.

This was a call to arms with a different set of weapons. In the art of seduction, he possessed well-honed artillery, a full arsenal at his disposal. All had been tried in battle and none found wanting. If memory served him correctly, his conquests had succumbed with little protest. If memory served him further, his victories had been celebrated to both party’s mutual satisfaction. And he had an excellent memory.

Admittedly, two years had passed since he had utilized his talents to seduce a woman. He might be a bit rusty, but like riding a horse, one never forgot how to do so, nor did one forget its pleasures. The ache in his loins and his growing awareness of Alexandra made him realize it was time to end
his abstinence. When he had told her that no woman had ever interested him more, he had spoken the truth.

She fascinated him. She was a mixture of innocence and practicality. He didn’t usually dally with innocents, but Alexandra might be the exception to his rule. After all, she wasn’t a well-cosseted, shy debutante. She was independent and strong-willed. To use her words, she took risks worth taking. She could handle his siege and make her own decision to surrender—or not. If her passion in bed was as strong as that outside of it, her surrender would be sweet indeed.

He settled back in his seat, aware a smug smile curved his lips when he heard the first shouts in the distance. He was instantly on alert, all his senses alive.

Sliding forward, he reached into the pocket of the door to snatch the pistol within. Alexandra jumped when he leaned across her and whipped the window curtain closed after surveying the scene outside. Two men approached on horseback. “Get down,” he hissed.

She cried out when he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the carriage floor with him. They were squeezed together, the space coffin sized.

“Stop the carriage! Stop if ye value yer lives!” An explosion of gunshots accompanied the demands.

He heard Alexandra’s sharp intake of breath.

He thrust the pistol into her palm, pointing it to the floor, closing her fingers over the butt when she didn’t immediately grip the handle. He tossed aside the carriage cushion to retrieve a second gun he had stored in the compartment beneath. Alexandra tugged on his jacket as he checked his weapon.

“I can’t. I’ve never—” She shook her head frantically, trying to hand the pistol back to him.

Her body crushed deeper into his when Havers barked orders at the horses and the carriage rumbled to an abrupt stop. Curses and loud shouts filled the air.

He lifted Alexandra off his lap and with his free hand, covered hers holding the pistol, preventing her from relinquishing it. “You can and you will, for our lives may depend on it.” He stared her down as he had with so many men under his command, willing her to obey, willing her to shelve her nerves and act.

Her eyes were two wide blue saucers and riveted to his as her mouth opened and closed.

She radiated fear, but he reminded himself of her mettle. She was strong. She would not fold.

She did not disappoint. Nodding jerkily, she swiped her hand down her trousers. “How…” She moistened her lips. “If I need to…”

He cocked her gun, careful to keep it aimed at the floor. “Just pull the trigger and brace yourself for the recoil.”

“Kendall! We know ye be in there. Get out now, and yer coachman lives.”

He met Alexandra’s eyes, her gaze devouring his features as if she sought answers from their predicament in his expression. Christ. He should have been more alert. He shouldn’t have let her distract him. He shrugged off the recriminations; hopefully there would be time for that later. For now, he needed a plan of attack.

“How do I know you haven’t already killed him?” He yelled to the men, buying time. He leaned close to Alexandra, lowering his voice to a barely audible level. “I’m going out the opposite door, but I need a distraction. Fire a shot out the window, then drop down and stay low. The door facing them is locked. They can’t get in quickly.”

“But what if—”

“Shh.” He pressed his fingers to her lips, silencing her. “It’s all right. I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

“My lord?”

He clenched his jaw when Havers rapped the front panel of the coach in response to one of the men’s orders. There was relief in the knowledge Havers was alive. He intended for all of them to stay that way.

He studied Alexandra. Beneath her fear, he saw resolution in her curt nod and his blood heated. By God, she was brave and beautiful and he wanted her.

He couldn’t resist. Depending on the outcome of his actions, there might not be a second chance for them.

Damned if he’d let this one go.

Leaning down, he clasped her neck and covered those soft lips with his. When she gasped and her mouth opened, he drank her in, a sip before a banquet he hoped to savor later. She tasted
of honey, tea, and Alexandra. Sweet and explosive. A flavor of heaven, before he met hell. Damned if he didn’t want more.

Unable to resist, he took it. Just a little more to quench the burning need that flared within him in a tumultuous rush of sensation. A potent mixture of danger and desire. He plundered her mouth, teasing her into a hesitant response as her tongue tangled and danced with his. He felt her hand clutch his upper arm, her fingers digging deep.

When her body sagged against him in sweet surrender, a deep, throaty growl of masculine satisfaction filled him. She was magnificent. Passionate
and
responsive.

A shout from outside returned him to his senses, and he drew back, cursing under his breath. He sucked in a ragged breath, his blood pounding, his body burning with thwarted desire.

Struggling to compose himself, he studied Alex, who had slid back against the seat in a boneless heap. She blinked up at him, her eyes glazed and unfocused. Resisting the urge to yank her back into his arms, he gave her a gentle prod toward the window.

Christ. There was no more time. Moments had passed since the carriage had stopped. In battle, seconds counted.

Her eyes clearing, Alexandra pressed her swollen lips together and scrambled onto the seat. She lifted the gun, and her hand visibly shook as she aimed it out the window and then glanced back for his directive. When he nodded, she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

Garrett vaulted out the door, barely missing Alexandra, who dove back onto the floor as all hell broke loose outside. He clung to the carriage side as the horses leapt up, whinnying and snorting in protest. Havers’s voice barked out as he fought to regain control, the highwaymen cursing.

Another shot rang out.

Garrett heard the splintering of wood as the bullet pierced the carriage. He had seen Alexandra’s dive to the floor and prayed the shot was high. He added to his prayer the hope that for once in her life, Alexandra took a direct order and stayed low.

He dropped to the ground, lying flat and slithering beneath the undercarriage as the horses settled.

“Bloody Christ, whot the ’ell do ye think ye be doin’?”

One man advanced on the carriage, the other toward Havers and the horses.

Garrett took aim and then fired at the man rushing the door.

One bastard down, one to go.

He cursed the seconds it took for him to reload, but before he could get off a second shot, someone else fired. Their second attacker staggered backward and crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood seeping from beneath his still body.

Garrett scrambled from underneath the coach, meeting Havers, who had leapt down from the box, pistol in hand. The stench of gunpowder from Havers’s gun mixed with his, and Garrett nodded. “Good cover.”

Havers grunted. “Bunch of idiots. Should have killed me straight off.”

“Good thing they didn’t. I need you around.” Garrett walked over to the man he had shot. He lay on the ground, clutching his stomach as he writhed in pain. Havers approached the second man, gave him a prod with his boot and shook his head. Well, one informant was better than none.

Garrett knelt and planted his pistol to the surviving man’s head and cocked it. “Who hired you?”

The man’s eyes bulged beneath his lanky hair. His face was pale, a mean scar etched into one cheek. “I don’t know nothin’.” He panted. “I was jist ’elpin’ Dickie on a job. Said ’e’d cut me in.” He grimaced and fought the rest of his words. “’E would ’ave if ye ’adn’t killed the bugger. Christ, I need…Oh, sweet Jesus…” His voice trailed off as he glanced down and saw his blood-soaked fingers. His eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

Garrett pressed his fingers to the man’s neck, feeling the pulse weaken and fade. The man’s body slumped, his eyes staring out sightless. Garrett straightened, rage coursing through him like molten heat. Christ, he should have shot him in the leg, but then again, the man couldn’t give information he didn’t have.

“Is…is he dead?”

Garrett spun to see Alexandra framed in the door of the carriage. She gripped the coach side with one hand, the other holding her pistol dangling by her side.

Her eyes were locked on the body on the ground, her
features ghost white. “I…I killed him?” The pistol fell from her grip as her hands rose to cover her face, and she sagged against the doorframe.

Before she slid to the ground, Garrett reached her side. “No.” He lifted her down, grasping her shoulders and giving her a firm shake as he stood her before him. “No, I did. It wasn’t you.” He willed her to look at him, and she did. “The man’s a murderer. He was going to kill us both. God knows how many he’s killed.”

Eyes wild, she swallowed. “Yes, yes, of course.”

He yanked her to him, cradling her close as he felt the tremors rack her body.

“I’m all right. I just need a minute. Just a minute.” She burrowed her face into his chest and held on tight, her fingers digging into his back as she fought to steady herself.

Over her head, he nodded to Havers. “Take the blankets from the coach and cover them.”

The warmth of her body seeped into his, easing his own tension. He’d hold her a minute. He could hold her forever.

Another shot echoed in the distance.

Their minute was up.

Garrett tossed Alexandra to the ground, lunging over her to protect her from this new threat. One hand pressed her down as he lifted his head to scan the immediate vicinity, hearing shouts in the distance.

Havers dropped to a defensive crouch, his pistol out, but shook his head at Garrett’s unspoken question. He didn’t see anything, either.

Garrett sprang to his feet and wrenched Alexandra up, his arm around her waist as he half carried her to the carriage and hoisted her inside. “Get down and stay down.” He snatched up her pistol and pressed it into her hands. “Lock the door.” Slamming it closed, he ignored both her alarmed expression and cry of protest.

The pounding of horses’ hooves moved closer. Garrett cursed the lack of time to find cover, but turned and dropped to his knee. He lifted his pistol, thankful for Havers, who braced his legs and took aim beside him. He didn’t know the attackers’ numbers, feared the odds were against them, but two armed-and-ready men were better than one.

A single horseman rode into view, leisurely leading his
mount into their line of fire. A body was slumped across his saddle. Unruffled by the guns aimed his way, his gaze took in the bodies of the two dead men, before turning to raise a brow at Havers and Garrett. “Kill me and you’ll upset Kit. You know what your sister’s like when she’s in a temper. It’s not pretty.”

Heart still pounding, Garrett swore under his breath and stood. “Christ, Bran, what the hell are you doing here? I told you to hire some policemen, not to play Lord Gallant yourself.”

The wind ruffled Brandon’s dark hair as he turned to Havers. “Is he always a thankless ass or it just with me?”

Havers grunted and crossed to Brandon’s side. “What ye got?”

“The third musketeer to add to your group.” Brandon dismounted. “All dead?” With his riding boot, he prodded the man Garrett had shot and shook his head. “Damn. They could have had information. We should have shot them in the leg.”

Garrett ignored Brandon’s echo of his own thoughts. “If you’re worried about the wrath of Kit, what the hell do you think she’ll do if she finds out you’re gallivanting about the countryside, covering my arse from a bunch of murderous bastards?”