what chilled him more, the subtle threat uttered in that deep, cold masculine voice, or the feel of the hard, cold metal of a pistol muzzle pressed against the side of his head. It astonished him that he had not immediately gone soft, all passion fleeing his body in a rush, but he was still achingly erect. That could prove embarrassing. There was no sign of fear upon Penelope’s sweet face. In fact, she looked an enchanting mix of delighted and annoyed.
“Artemis,” Penelope said in a gentle but firm tone, “there is no need to hold a pistol on his lordship. It is rather evident that he is not armed.”
“He looks cocked and primed to shoot to me.”
Penelope lifted her head enough to scowl briefly at the four boys gathered at the foot of the bed who laughed at Artemis’s crude jest. She was pleased to be rescued, but appalled by what the boys had risked in coming to her aid. Artemis was only sixteen, Stefan only fourteen, Darius not yet ten, Hector but newly turned nine, and Delmar barely seven. All were far too young to be wandering the dangerous streets of London at night but she could not bring herself to taint her gratitude with a scolding, or to pinch at their boyish pride. She would, however, try to remember to have a little talk with Artemis concerning the fact that Hector and Delmar understood his jest. They were too young for that knowledge. They were also too young to be seeing her tied to a bed with a naked man on top of her but there was nothing she could do about that. She frowned when she realized Lord Radmoor was no longer “cocked and primed.”
She also felt a distinct pang of disappointment. It was not just the drug that made her sorry this sordid interlude had been interrupted before she had even gotten a real kiss. Penelope was certain she would never get another chance to fulfill even one of her wishes or have even one of her dreams about Lord Ashton Radmoor come true. The feel of small hands untying her ankles pulled her free of her wandering thoughts and she lifted her head again to smile her gratitude at Delmar.
“Get off her,” Artemis ordered Lord Radmoor.
“That could prove awkward,” Penelope said, blushing as Ashton began to slowly lift his body off hers.
“I do not think we will be shocked by seeing a naked man.”
“I did not think you would be, but I am also naked, or as good as.” She blushed again when Artemis looked her over and his eyes widened.
“Lads, look away until I can get Pen decently covered,” Artemis ordered the boys.
“But what about the man?” asked Delmar as he and the other boys obeyed the command.
“I have a gun on him,” replied Artemis even as he fixed his gaze on Ashton again. “Now, my lord, remove yourself from my sister. Very slowly. Do not think that, because I am young, I will hesitate to shoot you.”
Ashton did as he was told. When he finally stood at the side of the bed, he looked across it at the one who held a pistol aimed directly at his heart. His first clear thought was to wonder how such a tall, too thin youth could possess such a deep, manly voice. Then he looked into the youth’s icy blue eyes, eyes that remained steadily fixed on him as the youth moved to untie one of his sister’s wrists. Ashton had no more doubt that there was enough strong, furious man in the boy to make him a true threat. He could also see a slight family resemblance in the youth’s face, an almost pretty face despite how his cold anger hardened his expression.
A fleeting glance at Penelope revealed her having trouble untying her other wrist, and Ashton looked back at the boy. “If you will allow it, I could assist her.”
“No tricks,” said Artemis.
“My word of honor.”
The youth nodded and Ashton quickly untied Penelope’s wrist. He moved back to stand by the side of the bed. She struggled to sit up and he frowned at her awkward movements. She acted as if she was a little drunk yet he had not smelled or tasted any spirits on her breath.