Dangerous by Julia Hawthorne

leaving it smooth as clay. Along the far wall, however, he found the imprints of a man’s boots, heavier in the toe than the heel. Someone had crouched there a long time waiting for something.
    A lover, perhaps, or some bargain best made under the cover of darkness. He followed the prints leading from the man’s hiding place and bent down to examine the trail more closely. Just behind the heels, the jagged marks of spurs ticked the hard ground.
    He was a knight.
    A clever one who’d doubled back on his tracks almost perfectly. Glancing toward the castle, Eric no longer saw the guards who’d been standing watch when he came out.
    He ran across the courtyard and up the wide stone steps. Pausing only to bar the heavy doors behind him, he dropped to a soundless walk. Knife in hand, he crept up the winding stairs that led to the family’s private quarters.
    Even before he reached the top, he heard whispers in the corridor. Though he couldn’t make out the words, the timbre of the voice sounded much like his own. Dread slithered up his spine as he rounded the top step to find a man cloaked in black outside Elisabeth’s door.
    “Elisabeth! Don’t—”
    His warning came too late. She’d no sooner opened the door than the man grabbed her in a stranglehold.
    “Stay as you are,” he ordered, drawing a knife from its sheath on his belt. “Toss me your weapons.”
    Eric slid his dagger across the floor, keeping a wary eye on the blade pressed to Elisabeth’s throat. In her eyes, he saw a worrisome mix of fear and anger. She wouldn’t go easily.
    The intruder studied Eric a moment and nodded in recognition. “Eric Jordanne,” he acknowledged in a silken French accent. “So you escaped, after all.”
    “As did you, Rafael. But you’ll not leave this castle alive unless you release her.”
    “Come now, brother,” Rafael taunted. “You wouldn’t kill me over a woman, would you?”
    “What the Devil?” Christian charged from his rooms wearing a pair of loosely laced trews. His sleepy eyes widened, then grew calm as glass. “Let her go.”
    “For the love of God! Does no one in this house sleep?”
    Christian’s chuckle was strained, but somehow he smiled. “Very seldom. So many interesting things happen this time of night.”
    Eric knew Christian was stalling, allowing him time for the torturously slow progress he was making toward Elisabeth. Fortunately, the rest of the family slept in another wing. If luck were with them, no one else would join the fray. Men tended to become unpredictable when surrounded.
    “Surely you can find a more willing maid somewhere about,” Christian said amiably.
    “This one suits me. I have very fine taste,” Rafael boasted, pulling Elisabeth closer. “Roses,” he murmured with a lewd smile. “How I love roses.”
    As he rubbed his cheek over Elisabeth’s, his fingers drifted to the laces closing her dressing gown. Deftly, he untied them and slipped his hand inside to fondle her breast. Willing her to allow the groping, Eric prayed the distraction would enable him to surprise Rafael.
    His silent plea went unheeded.
    The intruder hissed as her teeth sank into his arm. “You little heathen. You’ll pay dearly for that.”
    When he drew his hand back to strike her, Eric rushed him. Shoving Elisabeth toward Christian, he kept a cautious eye on the fighting knife. He’d retrieve his own, but he dared not take his eyes from his opponent. Wily and without a conscience, Rafael had always been a formidable adversary.
    Eric took a fist on the jaw, ducking as the blade whistled past his ear. Having thrown his attacker off stride for a single precious moment, he seized the opening he’d created.
    He went to his knees as if dazed. When the mercenary bent down, Eric came up behind him. Grasping his waist in one hand and his head in the other, Eric twisted.
    Elisabeth gasped as a sickening crack echoed along the wide corridor. With a last pathetic wheeze, the breath left the man’s