The One With the Wanton Woman Series & Reading Order | Regency Romance Printable

“I’m not scared of you.”

He already knew that. Which, ironically, terrified the devil in him. Somehow she did not show any cowardice at his surliness. Perhaps she was used to raging idiots. She did work at a tavern. And he had seen her earlier with the drunken fool. She hadn’t even broken a sweat. It didn’t look like she needed help, but he needed to save her. For himself. For his own wellbeing.

Mayhap she hid her panic well.

Mayhap she needed to see real danger.

“You should be.” He put on his most menacing sneer but kept his feet rooted in place.

And she had the audacity to pop a single eyebrow at him.

That was it. His feet could be contained no longer. He stalked over to her, slowly, as if that would help in harnessing any semblance of control.

When he reached her, she didn’t back down, so he pressed closer until her back was against the door and his thigh was pressed into her leg.

In a whisper upon which he could smell cinnamon, she uttered, “Well, I’m not.”

Who was this woman? How the hell had his best friend claimed her first, for himself? Why was she here now? And why was his heart hurtling full speed toward her?

BAM! He slammed his palms against the door above her head.

Her left ear was a magnet for his lips.

“You must be the most determined chit I’ve ever met, or the most reckless. I don’t know which one, and I’m not sure I care to find out.”

Her lips found his ear by default of his positioning. “I’d like to think I’m the most curious chit you’ll ever meet.”

His heart was pounding to push itself up against her, and his arousal was swelling between his legs. “I hope you realize the danger you’re in.”

“I do. Perfectly well, thank you. I’ve seen danger.” She placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. It took no strength at all, she could have puffed a gentle breath, and if her intent had been to command him to fall prostrate, he would have done so.

They were eye to eye, and she did the most unexpected series of gestures he could have ever predicted.

“And you,” she placed her index finger on his chest. “Are not,” she slowly made an x on his chest. “It,” she booped his nose.