Wild Desire

by Lori Brighton

Genres: Historical Romance; Scottish & Highlander; Victorian Romance

Synopsis

First He Drove Her Mad In what feels like a moment, Beatrice Edmund goes from being a proper lady cooped up in a stuffy Scottish castle to traveling miles from anything she's ever known, in the midst of the wildest adventure of her life. And at the center of that adventure is the most infuriating, puzzling scoundrel on earth. She cannot take her eyes off him. Then He Drove Her Wild Colin Fitch cannot deny he's drawn to Beatrice--but lust is all he could possibly feel for the sharp-tongued minx. Still, if there's a chance she can help him stop the madman he pursues, he must withstand her obvious disapproval. Yet withstanding the longing he feels for her is growing more troublesome by the second. . . And Colin has never been terribly good at staying out of trouble. . .

Release date: March 1, 2011

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 398

Sample

India, 1857

   She was naked. Naked as the day she was born. Naked as the winter was long in Scotland. Naked as the days were hot in India. Naked.

But the drunken sod who’d burst into her room didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t bother to glance Bea’s way as he cursed in slurred words and wavered about the moonlit bedchamber as if he owned the small abode and had the right to be there, which he most assuredly did not.

Completely and utterly shocked, Bea stood frozen in the dark corner. Not bolting. Not screaming. Not fainting into a naked heap at his feet. Even when the wet cloth that was pressed to her chest dripped warm water between the valley of her breasts, over her stomach, and tickled lower regions a refined woman best not mention, she didn’t dare move.

He turned. The moonlight filtering through the open windows hit his face. In one breathless moment, Bea took in his features. High cheekbones, square jaw, and an aquiline nose were highlighted under a silver glow. Mythical, really. Or perhaps the light was playing tricks, for he looked almost handsome. One would think he was a spirit, or some beast come toseduce her soul. Yes, at first glance one would think he was magical, and that person would most definitely be wrong.

Bea didn’t need a lantern to know this person was nothing otherworldly. And he was no gentleman. A gentleman would not burst into a lady’s bedchamber. A gentleman would not curse. And a gentleman would most assuredly not smell of alcohol, smoke, and the same spice that seemed to permeate the entire blasted country.

“Damn it,” he growled in what sounded decidedly like an American accent.

Surprised, the grip on her washing cloth eased. What was an American doing in Delhi?

Better yet, what was an American doing in this tiny room?

He stumbled closer to her cot, closer to her. Bea swallowed her squeak of protest and stepped back until the sensitive skin on her shoulders rubbed against the rough stone of the walls. Her breasts rose and fell with each sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t seem to hear. In fact, he seemed completely unaware of her presence.

She thought for sure he’d collapsed upon her tiny cot, but somehow the inebriated man managed to keep to his feet, wavering closer to her. Sweat beaded on Bea’s brow, her toes curling into the reed mats that covered the floor. Oh, how dreadful! How wretchedly dreadful! Why had she ever agreed to leave the sanity of Britain? Because Leo and Ella had practically begged.

“Come along,” Ella had urged. “My dear cousin Colin is in Delhi and we’ll reside with him. When would you have another chance to visit such an interesting country? Think of all the butterflies you’ll be able to study.”

Bea almost snorted. Interesting, indeed. If one found extremely hot weather, the constant feel of sand in your corset, and horrible men bursting into your bedchamber interesting. Oh yes, she’d pay dearly because of her urge for adventure, just as Grandmother had always warned. Stuck in a moldy, drafty castle in Scotland for the past ten years didn’t seem so terrible now.

Not only was Colin’s home ridiculously primitive and small, but the man was nowhere to be found, leaving dear Ella to worry and pace all night before she’d finally given up hope that he’d return home. Ella and Leo had retired to their room next door only two hours earlier. Were they fast asleep, or were they alert and awake enough to hear her scream?

“Damn boots,” the intruder snapped, spinning around and stumbling farther away.

Bea released the air she hadn’t realized she held. The bloody humidity pressed down on her lungs. The urge to cough settled on her chest like an anvil. A blasted cough she’d picked up only days after arriving in India. Dear Lord, she couldn’t cough now. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments. Concentrate, Beatrice Edmund. She prayed until the spasm passed.

But as the urge to cough faded, she was once again left with the realization that she was naked. Completely and utterly naked. And even in the dark, the man would surely notice. Frantically, she searched the room until she spotted her white robe lying like a sleeping spirit on the end of her cot.

Could she reach it before he spied her?

If he noticed, he may very well attack … or worse. She’d heard stories of men going mad at the mere sight of a woman’s ankle. What would one do if he saw a woman completely naked? The thought sent a shiver of disgust over her skin. Perhaps before she bolted across the room she should arm herself. As Grandmother said, always be prepared.

Taking her lower lip between her teeth, she eased her hands from her chest. The air instantly hardened her nipples, an embarrassing reminder of her lack of clothing. Ignoring her body’s reaction, her fingertips grazed the table holding a pitcher of water and her dagger.

Her hand inched along the smooth teak toward the metal blade. A dagger Cousin Leo had given to her when they’d first arrived in India. A gift she thought completely barbaric at the time yet she’d accepted to be kind to a relative she hadn’t seen in years.

The intruder turned. Bea froze, the handle just out of reach.

Had he heard her? Could he see her? Dash it! She couldn’t tell.

He sighed and rested his hands atop his head. “For God’s sake. I know I left the damn thing here somewhere.”

The man shuffled toward a trunk not five feet from her. Thank the heavens he didn’t seem to see or sense her standing so close that if she exhaled too strong, the curl that touched his ear might take momentary flight. Surprise was an element still on her side. She started to reach for her dagger once more when the meaning of his words seeped through her muddled mind.

The thing. Somewhere.

He’d left something here? Bea frowned. She’d been given the room to occupy, and assumed, because of the trunks, it was used for storage. Perhaps he wasn’t an intruder after all. Fear eased into curiosity. Maybe he was a servant in Colin’s small household?

But no, he didn’t have the typical Indian accent and she’d never heard of an American working as a servant in India.

A friend of Ella’s cousin Colin? Her frown deepened. Certainly Colin wouldn’t befriend a drunken imbecile who barged into rooms without the mere courtesy of a knock. Then again, she’d never met Colin and perhaps he felt the need to hobnob with cads.

She gave her head a slight shake, her long locks brushing across her lower back. He most decidedly must be a friend. There was no other explanation. If so, this certainly complicated her plans, which, at the moment, consisted of screaming and slashing at the stranger with her dagger.

She uncurled her fingers, forcing herself to relax. A friend, then it was only proper she introduce herself. Her gaze traveled to the far corner where her luggage rested, her clothing still packed. Reaching her valise for her calling card wasn’t possible and he’d hardly be able to read it in the dark.

Could she reach her robe before he noticed? Really, it was rather difficult to decide on a plan of action when she was naked and wasn’t sure what exactly he was, gentleman or cad? Bea resisted the urge to sigh in frustration.

Steeling her resolve, she inched closer toward the cot. Dare she ring the bell for Ella to introduce her? But if Ella didn’t know the man, she’d have to ring for Leo and … well, that could take a rather long time with an endless line of people waiting for introductions and she doubted he’d wait patiently by. He most certainly did not seem the patient sort.

As if to justify her conclusion, the man threw open a chest that had been left in the room by some unknown occupant. The lid banged against the wall with a thud that rattled the room and would surely attract someone’s attention. That would not do at all. If anyone found her with the strange man, her reputation would be shattered. And even halfway across the world she knew, somehow, Grandmother would hear about it by morn.

She shuffled another step toward her robe. Best to be a brave girl and confront him herself. Of course, it would be horrifyingly shameful, but even Americans had some sense of decency. Didn’t they? Yes, he’d realize his mistake, apologize, and leave. There’d be embarrassment on her part, but she could live with the repercussions as long as he kept his mouth shut.

There was a clank of metal as he tossed an object aside and it rolled across the reed mats covering the floor. Bea shook her head. Really, he’d wake the house like this. Was he completely lacking in manners?

Slowly, she dropped her washing cloth on the cot. A mosquito buzzed around her ear, humming a melody of seduction. She waved aside the pest and stepped closer to her robe. If onlyshe could reach the garment before he noticed her, she wouldn’t have to be quite so humiliated. The floorboard underfoot squeaked.

Bea froze. The man spun around. Metal flashed in the moonlight.

A sword. He had a sword in hand.

Bea screamed.

“Son of a bitch!” the man roared, dropping the sword with a clank.

Frantic, Bea stumbled back, focused on nothing but escape. Her foot caught on the netting that hung from the ceiling and gathered around her cot, tripping her steps. Off balance, she grasped on to the material. A rip screeched through the room like a dying cat. Suddenly, there was nothing but air beneath her. Steel arms banded around her waist. Was he trying to save her, or murder her?

Her backside hit the floor with a thud. His body followed, crushing her into the reed mats. The netting floated down around their prone bodies. For one long moment, neither of them moved, their harsh breathing the only sound. Finally, Bea squirmed underneath him, but the movement only made his clothing rub against her sensitive skin in a most embarrassing way. Her breasts grew heavy. His breathing was harsh across her neck, harsh, but warm. She should push him off, kick him, scream again. Yet she couldn’t seem to think, let alone move.

Frozen in surprise, or was it fear, she merely lay there, feeling every inch of his body, every long, hard muscle. Underneath the scent of alcohol and smoke, she smelled him—warm and musky, male. An oddly … pleasant aroma. Slowly, his hands moved up the sides of her naked form. Bea stiffened, but her traitorous body reacted, sending shivers over her skin.

Hesitating, his large hands settled at the curve of her hips, touching places no man had ever touched. “A gift?” His deep voice had turned pleasantly husky.

“Wh … what?” she gasped.

“My dear, Delilah, you do surprise me.” With those words he crushed his mouth to hers.

Bea’s cry of outrage was lost in the back of her throat. Stunned, she merely allowed the beastly man to explore her mouth. He tasted of alcohol, but more … something heady, something spicy, something rather delicious.

When his tongue slipped between her lips and rubbed against her own, an odd and not entirely unwelcome heat spread through her body, tingling her nerve endings. Shocked, Bea merely lay there, reveling in the moment. She’d been kissed before … sweet, simple kisses. But this was no sweet kiss. This man took control, his mouth demanding, hard.

His hands slipped around her hips, farther, until suddenly his palms were cupping her bottom, lifting her higher into his body … into something hard, pulsing … The realization of just what that hard, pulsing thing was jerked her back into reality. Bea’s lips burst wide open in a scream.

Outraged, she shoved the heels of her palms into his muscled shoulders. The man pulled back just enough so she could reach up and slap him soundly across his face. The sound lingered in the room like thunder after a storm.

“What the hell?” He pressed his hand to his cheek. “Delilah?”

Bea curled her fingers, ignoring the sting of her palm. “Of course not, you bloody brute!”

Before she could scream again, a thump sounded from somewhere in the small abode.

He stilled, hovering over her. With his gaze pinned to the door, he reached toward the cot and snatched up her dressing gown.

“Dress,” he demanded, sounding surprisingly sober.

Bea wasted no time, and shoved her arms through the light, silky gown she’d purchased in Lyon.

Leo? Please let the noise be Leo. Was her cousin finallycoming to her rescue? The man was only next door; surely he’d heard her scream.

Before either could react, the door exploded. Wood splinters skittered across the floor like dancing marionettes.

Leo’s tall, dark shadow filled the empty space. “Bea?”

Her cousin didn’t wait for a response. Fortunately, knowing danger when he came upon it, he burst across the room and slammed into the man hovering over her. The stranger was torn from her body, and together Leo and the man landed with a thud that rattled the windows.

Bea was finally able to breathe. She squirmed, but the netting around her bed twisted between her ankles, holding her captive. Leo wasted no time and slammed his fist into the man’s stomach. There was a loud grunt and the men became a jumble of dark shadows, tossing about the floor so she couldn’t decipher one from the other. Frantically, she tried to untangle herself from the netting, but the blasted thing seemed to only catch all the more. She felt like a fly in a web, doomed to be a spider’s next meal.

“Bea!” Ella called out as she raced into the room. Bea immediately ceased struggling. She’d never been so happy to see her cousin’s wife. The woman’s nimble fingers worked the netting until Bea was free from her confines.

“Are you all right?” Ella’s hands clutched Bea’s shoulders. “Bea, my dear, what happened?”

“I was … bathing,” she managed to get out.

Ella helped her to her feet. “Dear, why were you bathing in the dark?”

The heat in her cheeks intensified. She leaned closer to Ella, keeping her voice low. “I couldn’t sleep because it was so wretchedly hot and I had the windows open. I didn’t want anyone to see me and then he barged in. I can only assume he didn’t have a lantern because he didn’t want to be seen. He’s a thief … or … or something equally as terrible!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the man mumbled, “Christ, Leo! Get the hell off me.”

Bea stiffened and at the same time she heard Ella suck in a breath. He knew Leo? But how?

Leo stilled, his fist raised in the air. “Colin?”

“Yes, you ass,” the man growled and shoved Leo aside.

Colin? Colin! Ella’s cousin? This was Colin? The very man they’d come to India to visit? Bea’s gaze jumped to Ella, looking for confirmation, but she could read nothing in the darkness.

“You said he was English!” Bea confronted.

Ella shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

Bea parted her lips to argue, but realized the woman was right. She’d only assumed Colin was English because Ella was.

“Colin’s mother was American,” Ella explained. “He lived there.”

Colin rubbed his jaw. “What the hell are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you until next week.”

“We’re early, obviously,” Leo said.

Colin. Ella’s cousin Colin. Heat shot to Bea’s cheeks. Thank God no one could see her in the dark. He’d touched her naked flesh. Ella’s cousin had touched her naked flesh. She didn’t think she could be any more embarrassed. The sudden urge to throw herself from the window held certain appeal. With her luck, she’d merely break a leg and lie sprawled half-naked across the street for all of Delhi to see. Bea wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.

Leo stumbled to his feet, but Colin remained on the floor like an enormous ragdoll, most likely too drunk to stand. How could the cad possibly be related to Ella? Bea couldn’t deny she’d been expecting someone rather bookish, thin, perhaps with glasses and a shy smile, for Ella had claimed Colin had come here to study Indian culture. But this man … this brute of a man … well, he didn’t fit her thoughts in the least. Oh, how she hated surprises, and Colin Finch was most definitely a surprise.

“Colin!” Ella finally cried out as if the words had just sunk in. She abandoned Bea and raced to the man’s side.

“I’m fine.” He waved her away.

Bea gave the man a doleful glance and sank onto the edge of her cot, still too confused to do much of anything else. This was the infamous Colin Finch? Surely there had to be a mistake. Ella, sweet, caring Ella could not be related to this … this atrocity. Yet Ella slipped her arm around his waist and helped him to his feet, an act much too intimate for a man not related. Bea pressed her fingers to her lips. What would Ella say when she realized Colin had kissed her? Even worse, what would Leo say?

“Merda, Colin,” Leo snapped, settling his hands on his hips. “What the hell was that about? Bea, are you all right?”

Suddenly, three sets of eyes were pinned to her, all glowing eerily in the moonlight. Bea nodded. Of course she wasn’t all right. She’d been scared nearly to death, had a cough that wouldn’t seem to go away, and was bloody exhausted from traveling across a country she was growing to despise. Sudden tears stung her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She’d survived a decade as an Englishwoman in Scotland—an outcaste. She could survive this.

“Yes,” she managed to get out over the lump in her throat.

Colin started laughing, a deep chuckle that set her teeth on edge. How could he find this amusing? She’d been torn from the intimacy of bathing only to find a strange man in her room. She’d even thought her very life was in danger and he was amused?

She stood on trembling legs, intent on telling him exactly what she thought. Before she could get a word out, he straightened to his full height and Bea fell silent. Intoxicated or not, he was tall, taller than she’d deduced in her haze of fear. She had the sudden desire to step back.

“I didn’t realize someone was in my damn room.” His teeth flashed white in the darkness.

He was grinning, finding sport in the situation. Once more, anger replaced her fear. Bea clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes, the glare completely pointless in the dark.

“Yes, well, Leo and I took the other chamber and gave Bea the cot in here. We left you a note. Did you not see it?”

“No, darlin’ cousin, I did not. A bit preoccupied.”

Ella gasped and waved her hand in front of her face. “You’re foxed!”

He flashed another brilliant white grin. “If by foxed, you mean drunk, then yes. I believe I am.” He slipped his arm around Ella’s shoulders. “So lovely to see you, my little daffodil.”

“Oh, Colin.” Ella shook her head like a mum annoyed with a misbehaving child.

Colin stumbled back, holding his hands up, palms out as if to ward them off. “Now, now, don’t get your hide up. I had to … to …”

Leo lit a flint. Light flared to life in the dark room, the flame too strong at first, and there was a moment’s silence as they all blinked, attempting to focus their gazes.

“Colin!” Ella gasped, cupping his cheeks. “What happened to your face?”

Before Bea could truly study his features, the man spun around and stumbled toward the cot. Without thought to the company awaiting answers, he threw himself down as if he belonged there. The bamboo frame groaned under his weight. With an angelic smile, he turned his head and looked at them.

For the first time, Bea truly saw the man. Dark, purple bruises stood out on his tanned skin, marring the area underneath both eyes … blue eyes … so blue they looked like the deepest part of the ocean. Beautiful eyes. Romantic eyes that seemed to pull her under …

“Really, Colin,” Ella admonished, sharing an exasperated glance with Leo.

But Bea found herself stepping reluctantly closer, transfixed by a face that she hadn’t expected. Her gaze moved tohis hair, golden locks that curled softly against his forehead and ears. Her fingers itched to touch the strands, to see if they were as soft as they looked. Even with the bruises marring the harsh planes of his face, Bea had the good sense to realize he was quite handsome. Her heart did a strange, quick beat. She couldn’t quite seem to breathe.

She frowned, annoyed with herself. She didn’t want to think of him as handsome. He was Ella’s cousin, for God’s sake. And he was obviously an imbecile. She was merely surprised he was so attractive, what with his horrible manners. That combined with the excitement of the evening and any sensible being would find it difficult to think … to breathe … to swallow.

Bea stepped back, hoping distance would soften the wild beat of her heart. Yet distance did not diminish the taste of Colin, a taste that still hovered on her tongue and lips.

“Marco likes to drink,” Colin said, scratching the scruff that covered his cheeks. “What could I do?”

He laughed after he said this, although Bea wasn’t sure what he found so amusing. She tightened the belt around her waist to preserve at least a bit of modesty, not that he was looking at her. Was he even aware he’d nearly crushed her? Was he even aware how close his hand had been to her … Bea fanned herself, unable to finish the thought. The least he could do was acknowledge her presence and apologize. But of course he didn’t. Just like an American. Just like a man.

“Who the hell is Marco?” Leo crossed his arms over his bare chest as if he was annoyed. She didn’t blame him.

Colin pushed himself up on his elbows, his eyes half-closed with drowsiness. “Hmm?”

Leo released a sigh that reeked of exasperation. Stomping closer, he raked his hands through his indecently long hair. “Who the hell is Marco?”

Colin frowned. “How do you know Marco?”

Bea bit back her sharp response and tapped her bare foot on the reed mat. The man was exasperating, to say the least.

“Colin.” Ella rushed forward, perhaps sensing her husband’s increasingly foul mood. But then Ella always seemed to sense Leo’s mood like no other.

“You just told us you were meeting with this Marco. Who is he?”

“Ah, right, Marco.” He chuckled, then fell back against the cot and closed his eyes.

“Colin!” Ella demanded, non-to-gently nudging his shoulder with her fingertips.

He lifted his lids. “Hmm?”

“Who is Marco?”

The confused haze in his eyes cleared. He blinked up innocently at them. “Why, the man who’s coming to kill me, of course.”

No one said a word.

Finally, after what seemed a ridiculously long amount of time in which they continued to stand there staring at Colin while he slept, Ella turned toward them. “Did he just say …” Her voice trailed off as her wide gaze flickered from Leo to Bea.

Since no one else seemed inclined to answer, Bea nodded.

Leo stomped across the room toward the small table that held her dagger. For a moment, she thought Leo was going to arm himself. Instead of her knife, he picked up the pitcher of water. She knew immediately what he planned to do. Bea bit her lower lip to keep from allowing the bubble of manic laughter from escaping. A completely inappropriate response given the circumstances. Gads, the heat and exhaustion must be making her mad.

“Leo,” Ella warned, apparently aware of his intentions.

He merely looked at her, quirked a dark brow, and without hesitation, poured the contents over Colin’s face. Water splattered his handsome features, before splashing to the cot and floor. The tepid liquid wasn’t shockingly cold, but it did the job.

Colin jumped from the bed, sputtering and cursing words that no decent woman should hear. As offended as sheshould be, Bea found she had to press her hands to her lips to keep from laughing out loud. The night was becoming rather like a Comedy of Errors.

“What the hell?” he demanded, swiping the water from his face and shaking the drops from his long fingertips … fingers that had only moments ago been roaming her body.

Ella glared at her husband as she moved closer to Colin, the hem of her soft blue nightgown swooshing over the reed mats. “Well, in his defense, you did say someone named Marco was coming to kill you.”

Colin raked back his wet locks, confusion flickering across his gaze. “Marco?”

“Yes, Marco,” Bea blurted out before she thought better of it. Everyone’s attention snapped to her. Well, really. The entire situation was so utterly ridiculous, someone needed to be the voice of reason.

Colin’s gaze slid down, then back up her body, leaving behind a trail of heat. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling oddly as if he’d just touched her all over again.

The left corner of his lips lifted, revealing a deep dimple that sent her heart fluttering. “Hello, darlin’. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“For God’s sake,” Leo muttered.

“Of course, how rude of us.” Ella glanced at Bea and smiled politely as if they were making introductions in the parlor of a London townhome. “Colin, this is Miss Beatrice Edmund. Leo’s cousin.”

The heated look in his gaze fled. Those brilliant blue eyes turned steely. “Henry’s sister?”

Confused, Bea looked to Ella and Leo for an explanation but they were decidedly avoiding her gaze. How did Colin know Henry? She’d barely seen her cousin Henry in years. Most recently, she’d heard he’d vanished to the Colonies, although she had her doubts. Most likely the man had gotten into gambling trouble and was hiding from his debtors.

“No. Not Henry’s sister.” Leo replaced the pitcher on the table. “Another cousin with a different father than Henry’s.”

“Oh, just wonderful. A damn family reunion.” Colin threw his arms in the air. The movement was apparently still too much and caused him to stumble. Ella was first to his side, slipping her arms around his waist and taking the brunt of his weight.

“And is she evil, too?”

Bea stiffened at the comment, heat shooting to her cheeks. She’d known Henry was a bad seed when they were children. The few times they’d visited, he’d called her names, pushed her down until she cried, had even poured honey in her hair. But really, for Colin to stand there and defile her family name was too much.

She glanced at Leo, waiting for the man to come to their family’s defense. Leo merely stood there with his arms crossed over his broad chest, not looking the least bit put out. Then again, Leo had been raised in the jungles of India for half his childhood—perhaps he didn’t understand that one was supposed to defend one’s family honor.

“Of course not. Bea is nothing like Henry,” Ella said, her words not exactly putting Bea at ease.

“Bea,” Colin repeated, and he was back to grinning. The man couldn’t decide on a mood. “Like … like a bee. Buzz.” He found this immensely amusing and started laughing, a deep rich chuckle that seemed to vibrate the very air around them.

Ella slapped his arm and Leo sighed long and loud.

“Perhaps,” Bea said, feeling someone should take control, “we should cease discussing our family lineage and discuss this Marco who is coming to murder you?”

Colin stopped laughing, his face growing serious. “Yes. True. Very true.”

She didn’t believe in this Marco for a moment, but decided it’d be best for her own temperament and sanity if they changed the subject. Surely no one was coming to killanyone. After all, Colin was much too relaxed to be caught in the middle of such a dire situation. In his inebriated state, he’d imagined this supposed man.

Still … by the bruises on his face, it was obvious something had happened.

“So, there’s someone coming to kill you?” Leo asked, his face as passive as Colin’s and confirming Bea’s suspicion that this was all a misunderstanding.

Colin shrugged his right shoulder. “There is a very good possibility.”

“Cazzarola.” Leo snapped the curse word in Italian, his mood changing like an ocean breeze and surprising Bea. If this Marco wasn’t real, why was Leo so upset?

Leo scooped up the discarded sword and gripped the hilt, the muscles in his arm flexing and bulging under his golden skin.

More importantly, if Marco wasn’t real, why was Leo gathering weapons?

Bea drew in a deep, trembling breath. “What will you do?”

Leo slid her a glance that spoke of amusement and exasperation. The same look he’d just given Colin. Her cousin had never been one much for conversation, but he managed to answer. “What do you think I’m going to do?”

Bea frowned at his surly tone. As if sensing her hurt and confusion, Ella moved to Bea’s side and slipped her arm through hers. “I believe we have no choice but to fight. If someone’s coming.” Always the voice of reason. But there was no rhyme or reason to this absurd situation.

Bea released a shaky laugh. “But surely, no one’s—”

A loud thud shook the house, rattling the glass in the windows. She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Suddenly the absurd situation had taken a turn toward reality.

The blood drained from her head, leaving her dizzy. Bea slumped back against the rough stone wall of Colin’s abode. Heavens, someone really was here.

“Bea, dear, are you all right?” Ella’s face wavered before her, the concern evident in her puckered brows.

All right? Of course she wasn’t all right! Bea’s heart hammered against her chest, threatening to explode. She pressed her hand to her breast. Adventure. She’d wanted adventure. It was why she’d agreed to this ridiculous trip halfway across the world. Why hadn’t she stayed home and married a respectable man? Why hadn’t she listened to Grandmother?