Free EscapeWithMe by Ruby Duvall Page A

his—affected.
    “Would that the circumstances were different, madam,” he
said gruffly. She flinched and dropped her gaze. She then sat on the bed.
    “Very different.”
    He buttoned his vest. “You are thinking of what Mrs. Hayes
intends for you.”
    She couldn’t quite conceal the fright in her eyes. He
clenched his jaw and smoothed his vest. What could he do? He didn’t have much
more to offer her than Mrs. Hayes—either of them could land her in Bridewell as
his own plans did not guarantee much safety. And what obligation did he have to
offer her anything?
    However much he wanted to.
    She softly scoffed at his silence. “Just go. You’ll feel
better when you do.” Her words were meant to sting and they did. His hands
fisted and he punched them into the bed on either side of her, forcing her to
lean back on her elbows.
    “What do you expect me to do?”
    “To come back tomorrow. Neither of us can expect much more
than that.”
    “Exactly.” He wanted his words to sting as much as hers did.
The flicker in her hard expression told him he hit the mark. She knew of his
brother but what did that earn her? His family deserved more from him than a
whore he’d met only hours ago.
    You made her a whore. He growled at the thought and
stood straight. He snatched his coat from the chair by the bed and without
preamble left the room.
    “Ready then, sir?” Mrs. Hayes called. He nodded and met her
at the top of the stairs. He noted with bemusement that she had coaxed her
bodice down an inch to better display her bosom.
    “I’ll see myself out, madam, but…” Unable to bear the
tightness in his chest, he reached into his pocket and pulled out another five
pounds. Her eyes widened at the sight of it. “No one else is to touch her. I
shall return tomorrow at eight.” He handed over the money and watched it
disappear into the bawd’s bodice.
    “One last thing.” His hand shot out and grabbed her throat.
    Mrs. Hayes would have gasped if he had let her. Instead she
made a croaking noise and frantically clutched his wrist. He leaned in, ignoring
her weak punches against his arm and chest. Her throat flexed in his grip as
she tried to breathe.
    “If you do not obey me in this—if I return to find that she
has been molested in any way—you will pay me a pound in flesh for every pound
I’ve just given you, and I shall make that bodyguard of yours watch. Do you
understand?”
    She nodded. He let her go and went downstairs.
    * * * * *
    Sam laid her cheek against the mussed blanket, breathing out
and closing her eyes. More of the poem made sense to her now. Ryder was likely
the owl, and his brother the mouse, though Webb’s tenacious hunt for Phillip
West could peg him as the owl as well. Knowing that, she had to ensure that
Ryder would return, even if it was for an implied offer of sex. She’d follow
the breadcrumbs and hope for some answers along the way.
    She heard the murmur of a short conversation between Mrs.
Hayes and the lieutenant and then the sound of Ryder’s footsteps descending the
stairs. She could still smell him on her, that heady mixture of vanilla and
wine. The mild ache between her thighs evoked a full-body shiver as she
recalled the weight of his body and the press of his hips. She clenched the
bedding with the memory of his hands, his lips, his voice.
    For the hundredth time that day, Sam thought of Brian and
what he had done to her, how he had manipulated her. The lieutenant and her
inhibitions had clashed for—hell, ten minutes at most, yet Brian had never
tried anything more than a kiss. She remembered anxiously inviting Brian into
her apartment one evening after he had been particularly charming, but he
simply gave her a chaste kiss and said he didn’t want to ruin her beauty sleep.
The very thought of lying with Ryder again made her skin flush, but every time
she had tried to imagine what it would be like with Brian, she only worked up
anxieties about the way she looked.
    Mrs. Hayes