Surrender The Night by Colleen Shannon

concentrate all her energies on escape. As long as he held her, she’d be susceptible to him. Each time it grew more difficult to lie still and pretend indifference. Soon, she feared, she’d not only respond to those devastating caresses, she’d initiate some of her own in the best harlot fashion.  If she took the jewels, she should be able to sell them for enough to get far away from London, where he could never find her. Her mouth curled. As if he would look beyond a fortnight, anyway.
    Deciding to air out the room, she went to the window and opened it. She stood for a moment, enjoying the breeze on her overheated body. She sent a regretful look at the sheer drop. Devon had known better than to give her a room with a balcony.
    She searched for her bags, but found only the boxed gowns he’d purchased for her. Even his own clothes were gone. She scanned the room again, then snapped her fingers. Of course. The armoire. Perhaps the maid had put her things away.
    She looked in the bottom drawers, but found only the jewels he’d given her and scandalously sheer night attire and che mises. She slammed the drawers shut and opened the full- length door on the left. The day was overcast and she was too short to see the top shelf, but she thought she spied some neatly folded clothes. She stepped inside the armoire onto the bottom of the cavity and reached up, standing on her toes. The door quivered as a gust of wind caught it. With a well-oiled swish and a bang the portal slammed shut behind her.
    Darkness shrouded her. Her heart leaped in her chest, but she swallowed and fumbled for an inside latch. When she found none, terror engulfed her. She kicked at the door until her bare toes were bruised. Still the heavy wood held firm. Her heart was pounding so hard she could scarcely breathe, so her first scream was weak.
    She banged her fists against the iron maiden gripping her and screamed louder. For an eternity she yelled for help, but no footsteps approached. In the last dimly rational part of her brain she remembered the outer chamber door was closed. No one would ever hear her through both portals. She sank to the floor of the compartment, curled her arms over her head, and wept.
    When, thirty minutes later, steps approached, she didn’t stir. They came to an abrupt stop. A masculine curse sounded, then came the whoosh of curtains being pushed back, and the rustle of lifting bedcovers. Finally the steps came to the armoire. The door was wrenched open.
    Devon gasped. “Kat, my dear, are you all right?” He bent and pulled her out of the armoire. She was so stiff that she stayed curled in a ball and he had to half drag, half carry her, to the bed. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, and she didn’t respond to his frantic questions. '
    After covering her, he poured water on a small cloth and washed her scraped hands. He inspected her fingers, then, looking grim, he fetched a small knife from his shaving kit and trimmed her broken nails so she wouldn’t scratch herself. He treated her hands with a soothing salve. When she still didn’t move or respond to his questions, he flung off his shoes and climbed into bed to comfort her.
    He wrapped her in the down-filled quilt, propped his back against the bedstead, and pulled her onto his lap. “Kat, please, tell me what’s wrong.” He cleared his hoarse throat. “What
    happened?” He rained gentle kisses on her white face. He drew back at the taste of salty tears, his strong features unwontedly soft. Her stiffness gradually relaxed in his arms, but then she began to tremble so hard her teeth chattered.
    He said, “It’s all right. You don’t have to be afraid now. I’m here. You’re safe.” He rocked her back and forth and made soothing noises.
    Slowly his comforting solidness and steady heartbeat eased her catatonia. She wrapped her arms so tightly about Devon’s neck that he coughed. If the a rchangel Gabriel had himself warned her off at that moment, she would not