When a Lady Deceives (Her Majesty’s Most Secret Service) Read Free

back and swung. More agile on his feet than Jennie would have guessed, Poole dodged the impact. The massive fist hooked into a portly onlooker.
    Reeling from the punch, the stout man swayed on his feet. Fury transformed his features to a grim mask. “What the ’ell do you think you’re doin’?” He lifted a chair over his head. “Let’s see ’ow this feels!”
    Colton seized Jennie’s arm and tugged her behind his back. She stood on tiptoe to see past his broad shoulders. Fists and chairs flew in a frenzied brawl.
    “Good heavens, you’ve started a riot!”
    “I believe that honor belongs to you,” he said, his voice low and wry.
    “Me?” Jennie scoffed.
    “As I recall, you struck the first blow. Come on, you need to get out of here.”
    He caught her hand and dragged her to the door. A fist slammed into his jaw with a bone-shaking crunch. Colton staggered beneath the punishing force.
    “Ye ain’t so tough when ye don’t see it comin’,” Poole taunted. His meaty paw clamped over Jennie’s arm.
    Colton’s attention flickered to Jennie. “Watch out.”
    He plunged his elbow into Poole’s bloated face. As the big man’s grip went slack, Jennie scrambled out of reach, nearly tumbling over her skirts.
    Poole smeared blood off his mouth with the back of his hand, his beady eyes darting about like a cornered rat. He drew a switchblade from his jacket as if he’d pulled Excalibur from a stone.
    He lunged. “I’ll carve yer heart out, ye bloody swine.”
    The blade etched a slash over Colton’s waistcoat. He retreated a step. His jaw set in concentration. And then, he attacked. Driving a knee into Poole’s middle, he forced the hulk’s paw of a hand down, bending it at the wrist until his fingers were pressed nearly parallel with his forearm.
    Poole’s crude bellow tore through the tavern. The ashen-faced cur’s knife clattered to the floor. He met Colton’s dark, unwavering stare.
    “Get out of here.” Colton’s calm, quiet rasp did not mask the tightly leashed menace in his words. “While you still can.”
    “Ye’d best watch yer back, Colton.”
    “Vermin lurking in the alleys are the least of my worries.”
    With a muttered obscenity, Poole turned and skulked away. Colton kept his focus on the oaf who lumbered through the tavern door.
    Colton turned to face her. A dark streak marred his silver-gray waistcoat. How badly had he been wounded in her defense?
    Jennie pulled in a breath. “You’ve been injured.”
    He met her concern with a shrug. “Did he hurt you?”
    Her fingers massaged the tender marks where Poole’s fingers had latched onto her wrist. “No.”
    Colton’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a poor liar.”
    “I assure you, I’ll survive. The brute shook me up a bit. Nothing more.”
    “If the cur comes in here again, I’ll make him sorry he ever touched you.”
    For reasons she didn’t quite understand, his words warmed her. “I believe you’ve already done that.”
    Behind them, glass crashed against the floor, shattering the moment. Without a word, Colton wrapped his hands around Jennie’s waist and shifted her none too gently to the side. Two men tussled in the spot where she’d stood a heartbeat earlier. Fists flailing, their expressions betrayed their pleasure at knocking each other senseless.
    “Sodding fools.” He ducked to avoid a fist headed straight for his face. “This is no place for a lady.”
    Something hard grazed the crown of her head. Her body jolted. Suddenly, the world turned inside out.
    The floor wobbled as the walls closed in.

Chapter Two
    Jennie’s knees buckled, but strong arms impeded her descent. A heady essence—bay rum mingled with traces of whiskey and something more, something utterly male and intoxicating at the most primal level—washed over her. And then she was in Matthew Colton’s arms, swept up with an effortless motion. The heat of his body seared through the layers of cotton and wool and burned into her skin.
    She blinked,