Regency Gamble. Bronwyn Scott

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      But it was hard to remember that when Reed had his hands on her, his mouth possessively close to her ear as if he had any right to Mercedes. And that cocky stare of his! He positively gloated every time he caught Greer looking at them.

      Looking at them was proving costly. Reed slid a hand along Mercedes’s leg and Greer shot a poorly aimed slice that nearly caused him to scratch. Mercedes laughed and slid a hand inside Reed’s waistcoat. Greer clenched his jaw and tried to focus on the game. He should split the pair and make the table difficult for Bride. It was what Mercedes would recommend.

      ‘Don’t miss, Captain,’ Reed called out. ‘I’d hate to have to console your lady if you lost again.’

      Greer looked up. Lucifer’s balls, Mercedes was in his lap, her mouth at Reed’s ear. That was it. No defence, no strategy. He was going to clear this table, take his winnings and his woman and get the hell out.

      Greer aimed and aimed again, the shots coming in rapid fire. He saw only the table, only the balls until he’d potted them all.

      ‘I think that might have been the fastest game ever played,’ a man breathed somewhere in the crowd. Greer didn’t care.

      ‘I’ll take my money, Bride.’

      ‘And give me no chance to win it back?’ Bride was disappointed.

      ‘No,’ Greer said tersely although he could see the answer was not popular with the crowd. Bride had lost a considerable sum. Greer stuffed the money in his pocket. ‘Mercedes, we’re leaving.’

      Mercedes shot him a disapproving look, but he was done. He wasn’t going to stand by and watch her flirt with another, especially when he didn’t know exactly where he stood with her. It was time to stake that claim.

      ‘Maybe she doesn’t want to go, Captain,’ Reed sneered, deep in his cups by now.

      ‘The lady is with me.’ Greer planted his feet shoulder width apart and flexed his hand.

      ‘Is she?’ Reed drew Mercedes to him, but she was too quick. A small blade flashed in her hand, coming up against Reed’s neck.

      ‘I am.’ Mercedes’s eyes glinted with the thrill of the hunt.

      Reed released her. She moved backwards to his side and Greer felt a profuse sense of relief to have her with him. Ale had made Reed slow, but his sluggish brain was starting to work it all out. ‘Hey, that’s not fair. You made me believe—’

      He couldn’t complete the thought before Mercedes interrupted. ‘You’re right. I made you believe and you fell for it.’ She slipped the blade into the hidden sheath in her bodice and gave Reed a wink. ‘The last rule of a hustle is to quit while you’re ahead. Adieu.’

      Greer grimaced. He wished she hadn’t said that. Reed wasn’t drunk enough to ignore the slight, but he was drunk enough to fight. It didn’t take a genius to know who he’d be swinging at. It wasn’t going to be Mercedes.

      Reed lunged. Greer was ready for him. His arm came up, blocking the punch while his other fist found Reed’s jaw, laying him out in one staggering blow. Cries of injustice were rising. This was going to get ugly. He and Mercedes were woefully outnumbered. It was past time to get out.

      Greer shoved a bench or two in the way to slow down pursuers and pushed Mercedes ahead of him with one word of advice. ‘Run!’

      But the patrons were unfortunately bored or game or both. And they were happy to give chase. At the door he needed his fists to secure an exit and still they followed them into the streets. He had Mercedes by the hand as they ran through dark streets, winding through alleys until the mob gave up the pursuit.

      ‘Alone at last!’ Mercedes gasped, half panting, half laughing as she bent over to catch her breath. Her hair had come down and her face was flushed. Greer thought he’d never seen anything lovelier. Until he remembered. He was supposed to be angry with her.

      ‘You almost got us killed back there!’ he panted.

      ‘Beaten up, maybe.’ Mercedes laughed, dismissing his concern.

      ‘Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one they were going to punch.’ Greer felt his anger slipping away. It was deuced hard to stay mad at her. But he could stay mad at Reed.

      Mercedes leaned against the brick wall of a building, her breathing slowing. ‘You’re looking at me strangely.’ She raised a hand to her face. ‘Do I have dirt on my cheek? What is it?’

      ‘This.’ Greer braced his arm over her and bent his mouth to hers, adrenaline surging through them both, the kiss hard and bruising, its unspoken message was clear. ‘You are mine.’

      This was a dangerous kiss. All of his kisses were. But that didn’t help her resist. Mercedes fell into the kiss, the thrill of the chase finding a new outlet in this physical release. They had kissed before, just as hard and just as furiously. Tonight, it wasn’t enough. In the moments of escape, she wanted more and so did Greer. Desire and adrenaline fairly rolled off his body. His hips pressed into her and she could feel the extent of his want, pulsing and hard as his mouth devoured her. Why shouldn’t they have more? Why shouldn’t they celebrate this moment? Why did it have to mean anything beyond now?

      Mercedes reached for him, finding his hard length through the fabric of his trousers. She stroked it, firm and insistent, moulding the cloth about its rigid form until she felt the tiniest bit of dampness seep through. Greer groaned, sinking his teeth into her throat, his bite an intense mix of pain and pleasure against her skin. His hand too, was not idle. He cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple into erectness beneath the satin of her gown, creating an exquisite friction against her skin. A moan escaped her, swallowed up by his mouth. He was branding her with his kisses, with his touch. She ought not to let him. She belonged to no man. And there could be no future in belonging to this one, only disappointment. But, her body chimed in, not until after great pleasure. Greer would be a matchless lover, their passion unequalled.

      Her skirts were up, the evening air cool on the heated skin of her body, her leg hitched around the lean curve of his hip, the decadence of their position fuelling their ardour. They were in a public place. Technically, anyone could come along at any time. It was a naughtily delicious thought to imagine being caught with this man. Even she had not dared so much in such a place before. Greer’s hand slipped inside her undergarments and found her cleft, stroking, teasing her into unquenchable flames, his own breathing coming ragged and fast.

      Mercedes fumbled in haste with the fastenings of his trousers. ‘Come on, get that out here to play.’ Her own voice was hoarse with want as her fingers groped for access to that most male part of him. Almost! She almost had it. That was when she heard it: the sound of horse harness and carriage wheels. They were about to be discovered by, ‘My father!’

      Mercedes tugged at her skirts, giving Greer a shove into action and pushing him away from her just as the Lockhart coach stopped in front of the alley entrance, travelling lanterns lit. A dark figure jumped nimbly down from the coach box. ‘I heard there was a little commotion at the inn and thought you might be looking for a ride.’ Her father strode forwards looking at ease.

      They did need a ride, but damn the man, he was showing up at the worst times. First at the fair, now this. How in the world was she ever going to get Greer into bed at this rate? After tonight, that was precisely where she wanted him and the consequences СКАЧАТЬ