Free Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard by Vanessa Kelly Page B

revealing the white skin of her shoulders and gently curving breasts. As she stretched like a kitten, those pretty breasts plumped up over her bodice. With her tousled hair and heavy eyelids she looked like she’d just recovered from a good romp between the sheets.
    His body approved of that look, reacting with inconvenient dispatch.
    He repressed a frustrated sigh and reached across to rearrange her mantle around her shoulders. Their gazes met and held. Her eyes widened and her pupils seemed to dilate as her cheeks flushed a brighter pink. Then she seemed to retreat, giving him a cool smile as she brushed his hands aside to tie the velvet tasselled cords of her mantle firmly shut.
    Irrationally irritated that she was putting distance between them, he brusquely flipped up her hood and pulled it close around her face.
    Startled, she frowned. “Are you quite finished with arranging my clothing to your satisfaction, sir?” she asked in a frosty voice.
    Aden stared at her with disbelief, biting back his instinctive response. He could think of many ways to rearrange her clothing, but all of them involved removing them from her body.
    A second later, she blushed scarlet as she realized the implication behind her words. A better man would ignore her flustered reaction. Clearly, he was not a better man.
    “Satisfaction? Hardly,” he drawled. “And as much as I enjoy a good debate on semantics, we need to get you inside.”
    She rolled her eyes and muttered something unflattering about men under her breath. Perversely, that lightened his mood. She had an uncanny knack for amusing him in the most bizarre circumstances, and Aden had to admit he’d miss that.
    Signalling her to be quiet—which earned him another eye roll—he opened the door and let down the steps. He carefully scanned the street. No activity, no one watching. The first carts would soon be rumbling along the streets, but for now Upper Wimpole Street still slept.
    Aden lifted Lady Vivien to the pavement. She clutched at him, stumbling a bit in her damned oversized clogs, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady. He steered her down the steps to the basement entrance while John Stevens set the horses to a brisk trot. A few moments later, the carriage disappeared around a corner and silence fell like a shroud.
    Shielding her with his body, Aden tapped out the signal on the basement door. Only then did the latches pull back. He urged her across the threshold as he cast one last glance over his shoulder.
    Nothing suspicious, he was certain of it. He shoved the door closed and slid the bolts. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes, letting some of the tension flow from his body.
    He’d done it. He’d transported her safely home.
    “Mr. St. George, are you unwell?”
    He opened his eyes to meet her concerned gaze as she hovered just a few feet away. She was almost dead on her feet from fatigue and still she apparently worried about him. That touched him more than he cared to admit.
    Dredging up a smile, he shook his head. “I’m fine, but let’s get you upstairs where it’s warm.”
    He glanced at Wilkinson, one of Dominic’s servants, who stood quietly awaiting instructions.
    “Is Sir Dominic awake?” Aden asked as he took Lady Vivien’s arm and nudged her along the basement passage that ran the length of the house.
    “He is, sir, as is Lady Thornbury. Sir Dominic sent Lady Blake home last night, but Lady Thornbury refused to leave until the young miss was returned safely home.”
    Aden cursed under his breath. Why the hell had his mother decided to hang about? Besides the fact that she would likely complicate matters, she would want something from him. She always did these days, although he couldn’t figure out why. She’d spent a great many years doing her best to ignore him, but ever since his stepfather died she’d been relentlessly doing her best to interfere in his life.
    “Thank God,” exclaimed Lady Vivien. “I was