A Marquess for Christmas Read Free Page B

and raping a woman in
the middle of the road. The man was after money, but who would pass up such a
beauty?
    So
he’d jumped in to save her.
    Now
they were scrambling on the ground, kicking and gouging and punching one
another. The man was little, but wiry, and his fists were thick.
    Kit
let loose the rage burning inside him. The rage against the injustice of his
life, the rage against his family, the rage against this idiot who would dare
to assault a lady.
    It
didn’t matter that his body ached and he was sure he’d come away battered
purple and blue. It didn’t matter that the battle with his family was futile.
What mattered was that in this moment, he could choose to fight, he could be
his own man, and he could protect this woman from a fate she should never know.
    Kit
slammed his fist into the other man’s jaw even as his enemy scored his nails
down his back, slicing the skin. Shifting his weight onto the other man, he
sent them rolling again, which forced the thief to release his grip on Kit’s
back.
    They’d
been on the ground for what seemed like hours, though it was likely only
minutes. Kit needed to get to his gun or this battle would keep going until one
of them passed out.
    To
his surprise, the man loosened his left arm, giving Kit the freedom to reach
over for the gun, which had fallen to the ground in the scuffle. The muscles in
his abdomen burned as he stretched his arm as far as he could. The handle was
so close. He leaned left as his assailant pressed right.
    Which
one of them would make it first?
    Kit’s
fingers scraped the gun as the woman screamed. The thief lifted up, holding a
large rock in his hand. Kit cocked the hammer and fired as the rock smashed
into his head. Searing pain blinded him. His skull felt torn asunder.
    The
other man fell backward and Kit rolled, huddling in agony. Amidst the loud
pounding in his ears, he could hear the voice of the woman. She wanted him to
move.
    “Damnation.”
His chest burned. A fragment of the bullet must have hit him in the chest or perhaps
he’d broken a rib. She tried to lift him, but she wasn’t strong enough to carry
him. Dimly, he could smell the scent of lavender in her thick, black hair,
which had come loose during the ordeal.
    Her
warm body cushioned his and all he could think of was how awful his luck was
that he should be this close to her, but be unable to do anything about it.
    He
did his best to walk to her carriage, but he would’ve collapsed if her driver
hadn’t come to help.
    Incoherent
moans were the only sounds he could make as the pain overtook him again. Christ, what a hellish day . And if the
pain was any indication, it was only going to get worse.
    He
tried to lift his shirt to his head to stop the bleeding, but he could barely
move. When he opened his mouth, no words came out. Just more incoherencies. She
took his hand firmly in hers and he held on to it as if it would save him from
the blackness he knew was coming.
    His
eyelids were heavy and other than her hand on his, his entire body felt as if
it were burning in the everlasting flames of hell. The devil called to him,
demanding his due.

 
    Chapter Two
    His
grip on her hand faltered and Violet knew she was losing him. She slapped his
hand, hoping that would alert him. He did not move. But they were close to home
now.
    “ Hinkley , hurry!”
    Gently,
Violet slapped the man’s face. She couldn’t let him fall asleep. If he did, she
worried he might not wake up.
    He
coughed, but did not open his eyes. Well, that was something, at least.
    “We
are almost home, sir.”
    Slowly,
he lifted his lids and she could see his dark eyes. Their gazes held and she
became very aware of the fact that her lips were inches from his and she could
feel the heat of his leg against hers. She didn’t even know his name.
    “You
must try to stay awake for me,” she told him.
    “Sleep.
Good,” he mumbled.
    “No.
You must stay awake until the doctor comes.”
    She
was tempted to stroke his