Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (78 page)

Nora knew trouble when she saw it; right now she was at six feet of it. She'd better cut him down to size fast.

He'd come to toy with her, not kill her, not yet.

'So, it's like that, is it?' She

a saucy eyebrow at him,

doing her best not to let him see how much she loathed the idea of being bared before him. 'You've come to torture the prisoner.

Certainly, you can't call what you intend to do anything else.'

She started moving, swaying her hips as she made her own circling perusal.

Nora gave a husky laugh as Witherspoon realised one can only be circled if one stops moving. No doubt he'd been too shocked by her lack of fear to catch on. Now, however, he was furious. His eyes narrowed, calculating, assessing her game.

'Is this how you bargained with Stockport?'

Scott

That was

alarming. 'What does Stockport have to do with any of this?'

'You tell me. Why does a man bandage up the very enemy who would

his financial livelihood? If you ask me, you must know some pretty interesting tricks to please a man like Stockport to such a degree.' He tapped his riding crop. 'I find that I'd like to know what those tricks are, myself.'

'You're not half the man Stockport is. Anyone can tell that by the pathetic way you attempt to curry his favour.'

'You're nothing better than a thieving whore!' he said, his voice rising dangerously with his temper. He started moving too until they were circling each other like prowling dogs.

Nora ignored his comment and returned to her own line of conversation, doing her best to hide her tension. He would pounce, that much was inevitable. He would make a grab for her. She just wanted it to be at a time of her choosing.

'Witherspoon, that's an unusual name. Traditionally, English names describe something about a person or their family line. For instance, "Smith", usually refers to smithy work, blacksmiths, goldsmiths, what have you. Wither means to wilt.' She pursed her lips and tapped them with a finger. 'Spoon. Hmm. I can't say I've heard "it" called that before, but I suppose it is possible.'

Despite himself, Witherspoon was drawn into her little monologue. 'What, pray tell, is "it"?' he said crossly, his eyes narrowing slightly, betraying his readiness to spring.

Nora smiled and sprung the trap. Ingenuously, she widened her eyes, an innocent look at odds with the calculated sway of her hips. 'Why, the male member of course. Witherspoon.' She made a drooping gesture with one of her fingers and pointedly glanced down at his crotch.

Witherspoon stopped circling, his cold face now infused with an angry red as he grasped the meaning of her by-play.

'You little bitch! '

He lunged. Nora was ready for him. The force of his attack

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Pickpocket Countess

took them both to the cot. Nora grunted as her shoulder rebelled against the fight, but she ignored it as best she could, her teeth into the tender part of his cheek and drawing blood.

Witherspoon reared back, yelping in surprised pain. Nora shoved at him, catching him off balance on the narrow cot, and toppled him to the ground. He grabbed for her and she kneed him in the groin, forcing him to let go of her.

There was a commotion outside the doors and Nora raced up the stairs while Witherspoon writhed on the dirt floor. She started screaming, hoping the guards would remember she was a woman and forget she was prisoner and unlock the door. She didn't want to face an angry, recovered Witherspoon.

'Eleanor!' a familiar voice called with urgency from the other side and Nora wanted to weep with relief.

In moments, the bars were lifted and Brandon's form filled the doorway. 'What happened here?'

It was all Nora could do not to

straight to his arms and

beg protection, but that would do neither of them any good.

'He attacked me,

Nora said, trying not to show how

upsetting the incident had been.

Brandon's jaw tightened, the only sign of distress he allowed himself to show. 'Guards, get

Witherspoon up and see that

he is cared for, then see that he has no further admittance to see the prisoner,' he barked.

When Witherspoon had been removed, and the guards were busy tending to him, Nora motioned Brandon down to the rumpled cot. 'I was afraid the guards wouldn't care enough to open the door,' she said in a low voice. The door was still ajar. Apparently, she'd inspired fear regarding the safety of male visitors.

'I doubt they would have if I hadn't been there.'

His hands covered hers and Nora became conscious of them shaking inside his warm grasp. 'I'm all right,' she reassured him.

'I hate that I cannot touch you, Nora. I want to draw you into