Page 33 of How the Earl Entices

“It is,” he said guardedly, “but only women who want something from me use it when they’re in bed with me.”

“And only a man who wants something frommewould pretend that this night rail is anything but frumpy.”

He laughed and nuzzled his cheek against her shoulder, mumbling with amusement, “Touché.”

“Good. Then we both know that we each shamelessly want something from the other.”

“And aren’t above blackmail to get it,” he added, a teasing edge to his voice.

“Or seduction,” she shot back.

Another laugh rumbled into her back. Despite the tightening of his arms around her, she gave a silent sigh of relief. The battle was over. For now.

His laughter died away, and silence filled the darkness. Around them, the inn was still wide-awake, the travelers and hostlers continuing to drink and carry on downstairs. But cocooned inside the tiny room with Ross, she felt warm and protected.Safe.For the first time in a decade.

“It’s a long way to London,” he said quietly. “If something should happen to me along the way, if I’m caught by the men chasing me, you need to claim that I forced you to help me. Understand?”

It was her turn to laugh. “Anyone seeing us together like this would never believe that.”

“I’m serious, Grace.” So was the grim tone of his voice. “The closer we travel to London, the more dangerous it becomes.”

Her heartbeat faltered. “But I thought…I thought whoever was chasing you would be looking for you along the coast.”

“It’s not them we worry about now.”

She stared into the darkness, her belly pinching with dread. “You have more than one group of men chasing after you?”

Not answering that, he tightened his arms around her. “You have to claim that I forced you to help me. Promise me that.” When she didn’t answer, he pressed, “If not for me, then for my father’s memory.”

With a soft sigh, she reluctantly nodded against the pillow.

“And no matter what happens, those papers I’m carrying have to be given to my brother in London. You can reach him through any of the clubs on St James’s Street.”

Another nod. Then a hesitation—“What are they?”

“Christopher will know what to do with them,” he dodged. “Hehasto get them, understand?”

“Yes.” Christopher. He was using his brother’s name as an alias. Clever. And yet…“You should have picked a different name. Something random.”

“Is that how you picked your alias? A random name?” he prompted gently. “Or was there a real Grace?”

She hesitated. They’d been pressing each other all day for details, yet never giving ground…“Grace was my mother’s middle name.” She tamped down the faint uneasiness at revealing this secret, when she’d never told anyone else. Not even Alice. “Alden was my nanny’s name.”

He nuzzled her neck in silent gratitude for trusting him this little bit. Yet it didn’t stop him from pressing for more. “What’s your true name?”

Not daring to answer, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Good night, Ross.”

“Good night,” he murmured against her nape, “whoever you are.”

Chapter 10

“Ross?” a soft voice called to him. A hand pushed at his shoulder—“Ross, wake up!”

The fog of sleep ensconced him, made even deeper by the first chance in days to sleep well. In a warm bed, no less. Next to a soft woman.

With a heavy sigh, not opening his eyes, he tightened his arms around her and rolled onto his back, to nestle her into the hollow between his arm and chest and fall back to sleep.

A hand slapped his cheek.