The Untamed Bride Plus Black Cobra 02-03 and Special Excerpt by Stephanie Laurens Page A
Authors: Stephanie Laurens
Ads: Link
his left hand. Lifting it, he saw he’d split the skin over one knuckle.
He put the injured joint to his mouth.
Deliah noticed, frowned, then she looked ahead. Lifted her chin.
After a moment, she said, “I believe your commander, whoever he is, would
agree, now, that I have a right to know.”
Del grimaced. He glanced at her profile; her lips weren’t
pouting—they were set in a grim line. “I don’t suppose
you’d accept that those men were merely footpads—itinerants looking
for an easy mark?”
“No.”
He sighed.
“If I’d known I stood in any danger of attack, I
wouldn’thave gone out of that door.” She turned
her head, met his eyes. “You can’t not tell me—it’s too
dangerous for me not to know.”
He held her gaze for a moment, then looked ahead, filled his lungs.
And told her.
Initially he gave her a carefully edited description of the Black
Cobra and his mission. She seemed to sense his prevarications and refused to let
them lie, verbally pulling and prodding until she’d extracted an account a
great deal closer to the full picture from him.
He inwardly winced as he heard himself tell her about the manner of
James MacFarlane’s death, and of the evidence he’d given his life to
get to them.
“Poor boy—how utterly dreadful. Yet at least he died a
true hero—I imagine that would have been important to him. And this is the
evidence you and your friends are endeavoring to ensure gets into
Wolverstone’s hands?”
“Yes.”
“And part of the plan is to make the Black Cobra attack, so he
can be caught and thus implicated entirely independently of the evidence
itself?”
“Yes.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “That’s a very
good plan.”
He’d expected her to be appalled, and then horrified,
frightened, even terrified by the very real threat of very real and nasty
danger—something she certainly wouldn’t have missed. Yet while
she’d been as appalled as he’d imagined, horror, fright and terror
didn’t seem to be in her repertoire; if he’d had any real doubts
that she was made of sterner stuff, her immediate focus on the salient points of
his mission had slain them.
After another, longer silence, she looked at him, met his eyes.
“I will, of course, help in whatever way I can—you have only to ask.
As the Black Cobra clearly views me as part of your entourage, there’s no
sense in attempting to keep me distanced from your mission.”
He managed to hide his reaction. He could think of any number of
reasons to keep her separate from his mission, all of which made excellent sense
to him, but he hadn’t attained the rank of colonel without having some
idea of how to manage others—although he’d never tried his hand at
managing a termagant before. “Thank you.” With an inclination of his
head, he accepted her pledge of help; if he’d tried to refuse it, to quash
the enthusiam burning in her green eyes, her resolve to assist would only have
hardened. Instead, he could use her commitment as a subtle lever to keep her
under control—to channel her contribution into safe arenas.
Speaking of which…“We still haven’t decided where
to stay in London.” Brows rising, he relaxed against the seat. “Do
you know of any place that might suit?”
December 12
Grillon’s Hotel, Albemarle Street, London
“See?” Deliah stood just inside the foyer of
fashionable Grillon’s Hotel, and watched Del survey the critical
amenities—the single handsome staircase leading to the upper floors, the
dining room to one side, the parlor to the other, and directly opposite the main
entrance, the only entrance from the street, the wide counter behind which two
young men stood, ready to deal with any request from guests, all under the eagle
eye of an older gentleman in a uniform sporting gilt-embroidered epaulettes. In
addition, there were not one but two uniformed doormen
He put the injured joint to his mouth.
Deliah noticed, frowned, then she looked ahead. Lifted her chin.
After a moment, she said, “I believe your commander, whoever he is, would
agree, now, that I have a right to know.”
Del grimaced. He glanced at her profile; her lips weren’t
pouting—they were set in a grim line. “I don’t suppose
you’d accept that those men were merely footpads—itinerants looking
for an easy mark?”
“No.”
He sighed.
“If I’d known I stood in any danger of attack, I
wouldn’thave gone out of that door.” She turned
her head, met his eyes. “You can’t not tell me—it’s too
dangerous for me not to know.”
He held her gaze for a moment, then looked ahead, filled his lungs.
And told her.
Initially he gave her a carefully edited description of the Black
Cobra and his mission. She seemed to sense his prevarications and refused to let
them lie, verbally pulling and prodding until she’d extracted an account a
great deal closer to the full picture from him.
He inwardly winced as he heard himself tell her about the manner of
James MacFarlane’s death, and of the evidence he’d given his life to
get to them.
“Poor boy—how utterly dreadful. Yet at least he died a
true hero—I imagine that would have been important to him. And this is the
evidence you and your friends are endeavoring to ensure gets into
Wolverstone’s hands?”
“Yes.”
“And part of the plan is to make the Black Cobra attack, so he
can be caught and thus implicated entirely independently of the evidence
itself?”
“Yes.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “That’s a very
good plan.”
He’d expected her to be appalled, and then horrified,
frightened, even terrified by the very real threat of very real and nasty
danger—something she certainly wouldn’t have missed. Yet while
she’d been as appalled as he’d imagined, horror, fright and terror
didn’t seem to be in her repertoire; if he’d had any real doubts
that she was made of sterner stuff, her immediate focus on the salient points of
his mission had slain them.
After another, longer silence, she looked at him, met his eyes.
“I will, of course, help in whatever way I can—you have only to ask.
As the Black Cobra clearly views me as part of your entourage, there’s no
sense in attempting to keep me distanced from your mission.”
He managed to hide his reaction. He could think of any number of
reasons to keep her separate from his mission, all of which made excellent sense
to him, but he hadn’t attained the rank of colonel without having some
idea of how to manage others—although he’d never tried his hand at
managing a termagant before. “Thank you.” With an inclination of his
head, he accepted her pledge of help; if he’d tried to refuse it, to quash
the enthusiam burning in her green eyes, her resolve to assist would only have
hardened. Instead, he could use her commitment as a subtle lever to keep her
under control—to channel her contribution into safe arenas.
Speaking of which…“We still haven’t decided where
to stay in London.” Brows rising, he relaxed against the seat. “Do
you know of any place that might suit?”
December 12
Grillon’s Hotel, Albemarle Street, London
“See?” Deliah stood just inside the foyer of
fashionable Grillon’s Hotel, and watched Del survey the critical
amenities—the single handsome staircase leading to the upper floors, the
dining room to one side, the parlor to the other, and directly opposite the main
entrance, the only entrance from the street, the wide counter behind which two
young men stood, ready to deal with any request from guests, all under the eagle
eye of an older gentleman in a uniform sporting gilt-embroidered epaulettes. In
addition, there were not one but two uniformed doormen
Similar Books
