A Loving Scoundrel Read Online Free

skin, and enter her wet warmth. He couldn’t have been in a better position to do so, his hands cupping her luscious bottom. But he was already rising to the occasion, as it were, and didn’t want her to know the effect she was having on him.
    “Will these do?” Percy asked, reminding Jeremy that he wasn’t alone with the girl.
    With a sigh, Jeremy got back to the matter at hand and toted their thief back to the chair and shoved her into it. He leaned over her, his hands on the arms of the chair, and whispered, “Stay there, unless you like having my hands all over you.”
    He almost laughed, she went so motionless. But the glare she gave him promised retribution. Not that he thought she was capable of anything of the sort, but she probably did.
    He glanced back to see that Percy had ripped up the bedsheet, having found a good use for it after all, and was dangling a number of strips from his hand.
    “Those will do nicely, bring them here,” Jeremy said.
    He should have had Percy take over from there, but he didn’t. And he tried not to touch the girl more than he had to, really he did, but he was a man who loved women and he just couldn’t help himself. He held both her hands in one of his while he wound the strip of cloth about her wrists. Her hands were warm, moist with fear. She had no way of knowing that they meant her no harm, so her fear was natural. He could have eased her mind, but Percy was right, they needed to vacate the place before the next thief showed up, so the explanations could wait.
    The gag was next, and he didn’t mind at all leaning close to her to get it tied behind her neck. He should probably have tied her hands behind her back instead, but he didn’t have the heart to make her any more uncomfortable than he had to. The fisted punch he got to his gut when he leaned over her wasn’t expected, but didn’t annoy him all that much since there wasn’t much strength behind the punch from her current position.
    Her legs he didn’t trust a’tall, though. Squatting down to get the cloth around her ankles would have put him in a prime position to get knocked on his arse, so he sat on the arm of the chair instead and brought both her legs over his lap. She shrieked under the gag once, but then was quiet and still again. She had long pants and socks on, so there was no bare skin he could touch. But still, just having her legs across his lap affected him profoundly, much more than it should have. He glanced down at her when he was done, and there was such heat in his eyes, she would have had no doubt that he saw through her disguise—if she’d been looking at him to catch it. She wasn’t. She was trying to work her wrists loose from the binding and had nearly succeeded.
    He put his hand over hers again and said, “Don’t, or instead of my friend toting you out of here, I’ll do it.”
    “Eh? Why me?” Percy complained. “You’re the stronger by far. Don’t mind admitting it. No indeed, specially when it’s so bloody obvious.”
    Much as Jeremy would love to carry the wench, he had to be sensible for the moment. “Because one of us has to make sure there are no objections to our leaving with this chap in tow. And while you might be up to the task, old man, I doubt you’d enjoy it quite as much as I will.”
    “Objections?” Percy said uneasily.
    “We aren’t exactly walking out arm in arm, the three of us.”
    Understanding now, Percy said abruptly, “Quite right. Don’t know what I was thinking. You’re better at bashing heads by far.”
    Jeremy managed not to laugh, since Percy had probably never bashed a head in his life.
    They didn’t run into much opposition. Only the bartender was still around downstairs, a huge, ugly fellow who would likely give most men pause if he even glanced their way.
    “ ’Ere, now, ye ain’t leaving ’ere wi’ that baggage,” he growled.
    “The ‘baggage’ tried to rob us,” Jeremy cut in, attempting for the moment to be peaceable about