Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard Read Online Free Page B

girl needed was his cockstand poking her in the back as they tried to escape danger and death. Yes, he was a hell of a hero. He didn’t need tonight’s escapade to confirm how far from the truth that notion had become.
    A loud crack sounded off to the right, jerking both his and Ranger’s heads in that direction. With a slight pressure on the reins he pulled the horse to a standstill. Lady Vivien startled awake and he had to clamp her against him to keep her from sliding sideways.
    “Why are we stopping?” Her breasts rose and fell with a nervous breath. “What’s wrong?”
    Aden’s chest pulled tight at the quaver in her voice. Lady Vivien did not strike him as a woman who easily succumbed to fear, but her voice told him she was skating on the edge of it now. He gave her a gentle warning squeeze and listened, peering into the endless gloom and shadows. To her credit, she held herself silent and still although he could feel the effort it cost as she shivered in his arms.
    Then again, the shivering could signify she was taking a chill. The night air was mild, but she must have lain in that dank room for hours. A sense of urgency pricked at him. The need to get her warm and safe as quickly as possible challenged his discipline and his need to remain motionless and watchful.
    That had never been a challenge before, and it baffled him. Dominic had drummed it into his head that a good agent never let emotion throw him off his course. And when civilians were involved, the agent must think of them as little more than an inanimate package. Lady Vivien was surely a package, but how could he begin to think of her as inanimate when she was the most tempting bundle of femininity he’d come across in a long time? No wonder he avoided women like her. The blasted things played havoc with a man’s good sense. Aden relished a good tumble as much as the next man, but he kept his nocturnal adventures confined to the demimonde, and only to those few women whose discretion he entirely trusted.
    Ranger’s ears were still pricked forward, but he evinced no other sign of alarm. After another moment of listening, Aden nudged the horse forward. Every sound out there in the darkness belonged, he felt certain. But he reminded himself that he’d been equally certain in France, and he’d been disastrously wrong.
    “Is someone following us?” Lady Vivien asked in a small voice.
    Again, anger clawed through him that she could be reduced to a bundle of nerves by a single sound. He tucked her against his chest, murmuring quietly in her ear, “It’s all right, sweetheart. It was only an animal in the underbrush.”
    Immediately, her muscles stiffened. She slowly eased herself forward, clutching his forearm to keep steady.
    Christ. Had he really just called her sweetheart? What the hell was wrong with him? His control was slipping. No, in fact his control, for which he was justly famous in the Intelligence Service, had gone straight to perdition. And if all it took was a woman to send it there—no matter how delectable the woman—he either needed a long rest or some punishing rounds in the practice ring with his fellow agents. The sooner he got Lady Vivien back to London and out of his arms, the better.
    For both their sakes.
     
     
    Sweetheart? The impact of that little word shot through Vivien like a cannonball.
    The only man who’d ever used that endearment had been Papa when he was ruffling her hair after she’d shown him one of her childish drawings, or when he was sending her off to look after her brother, Kit. But St. George had just called her that, and she had the distinct impression that what he felt for her was far from paternal. It wasn’t merely the way he’d looked at her during that moment in the tunnels when she had almost lost her nerve, or the way he carefully cradled her body on top of his massive horse. No, she might be gently bred and a virgin, but she was far from naïve. On top of the endearment that now hung in the