Rhys cradled Vivian in his lap as he led the horses through the rolling hills of the countryside, taking care to avoid the roads. She was smaller than she’d seemed when she’d faced him down with that pistol, her dark eyes blazing with unholy wrath. He shook his head with wonder. She’d been so brave both times she’d faced him. So unlike the cringing, aristocratic females he’d been robbing for the past six years.

His admiration dampened at the throb of pain in his arm. He needed to feed to heal, but he also couldn’t allow the wound to close over the lead ball. Rhys had suffered cutting himself open to dig out a slug once and never wanted to repeat the experience. The problem was that he would have to ride all the way to his hidden lair in a weakened state before being able to deal with his injury.

And then he would have to feed as soon as possible. Unbidden, his tongue raked across his fangs with the compelling urge to feed on the tempting woman in his lap.

“No,” he whispered to himself. Leaving Vivian untouched was a crucial aspect of his plan.

However, that meant he may have to feed on Renarde if he failed to come across another human before dawn. Guilt niggled him. It was bad form to feed on those under a vampire’s care. But with his wound, Rhys might have no choice.

By the time he passed out of Blackpool’s borders, dizziness threatened to topple him and the precious burden he carried from his horse. Once more, he cursed the slow, mortal way of travelling. Taking deep, steady breaths, Rhys covered the long, plodding miles as fast as he dared, staying near the coast to keep the ride as smooth as possible.

At last, he reached the no man’s land, where his hidden cave lay. The horses protested the dangerous, rocky path until Rhys had to stop and tie them to the cliff-side. He left the sleeping ladies’ companion draped over her horse while he swung Vivian into his arms and carried her down to the mouth of the cave. Once he had her settled in one of the cots he kept prepared for guests, he went back and collected Madame Renarde before leading the horses down one by one. He would have preferred to turn them loose, but didn’t want an honest citizen to find them and report them found in the area. Besides, Vivian may like to do some riding while Rhys awaited Blackpool’s response to his demands.

He wouldn’t begrudge the lady fresh air and exercise in her captivity even though he’d have to double his vigilance at those times, lest she try to escape. And he was certain she would indeed try more than once.

That in mind, he bound her ankles with a strip of linen and did the same with Renarde.

With the horses tethered outside, cropping the grass, and his hostages secured, Rhys sat on the cot opposite from the sleeping women.

A twinge of remorse chewed at his heart as he looked down at Vivian’s composed face. A whisper of a smile shaped her lips, contentment personified.

She would hate him for this. He wondered why he should care. After all, Vivian was the kin of his second most hated enemy. He didn’t spare a thought as to what Renarde would think of him.

Rhys sighed. He may as well get it over with. Fixing his gaze on the women, he summoned his will. “Awaken,” he commanded.

Both women opened their eyes at once. Vivian gasped and Madame Renarde let loose a shrill shriek. Rhys blinked at the feminine sounds. Though expected, he was still unaccustomed to hearing such noises in his sanctuary.

Vivian recovered first. Her silvery-grey eyes narrowed on him with loathing.

“You blackguard!” she spat and launched herself at him, not realizing her ankles were bound. Immediately, she tripped.

Rhys caught her and sucked in a breath as her breasts pressed against his chest. The warmth of her body and the pounding of her heart in his sensitive ears brought forth his raging bloodthirst. He tore his gaze from the vein in her pale neck, but his torment took a new turn as his gaze landed on the tops of Vivian’s breasts, spilling over her blue satin ball gown. He then became aware that his hips were flush with her lower body.

His cock stirred with lust.

The slap came unexpected, her palm crashing into his cheek with a sharp crack. “How dare you drug us and take us to this place!”

Rhys held his grip on her shoulders, but moved her back before his arousal made itself known.

Renarde finally spoke, her voice ringing out with imperious outrage. “Unhand her at once, you animal!”

The eccentric companion was closer to the truth than she knew. Rhys glanced up at her, biting back a smile at the sight of her reddened face as she wrestled with her restraints. “Madame, I suggest that you remain still, lest you further tighten the knots.” He kept his tone civil and turned back to Vivian. “As for you, Miss Stratford, surely I do not have to point out that you are at my mercy. As such, your stay here will be much more comfortable if you do not strike me again.”

She glared up at him mutinously as he pressed down on her shoulders, easing her back onto her cot. “What do you want from me?” she said through clenched teeth.

Rhys laughed, masking his regret at destroying any goodwill towards him. “A woman who comes straight to the point. I appreciate that.” He sat back on his cot and reached for a wooden box on the shelve beside his bed. The bullet wound in his arm burned in agony with the movement.

Concern furrowed Vivian’s brow for a moment before her eyes hardened once more. Rhys concealed his delight that she had cared for a second. “Your prestigious uncle is determined to toss my relations out of the home that’s been their rightful place for centuries.”

Vivian drew back, clearly not expecting this revelation. “He wouldn’t do such a thing. He is generous with his tenants.”

“That may be,” Rhys allowed. “But my cousin is not a tenant. She owns her own small farm and has been paying the mortgage faithfully.”

Madame Renarde spoke suddenly. “Is that why you rob people? To fund your cousin’s payments?”

Understanding filled Vivian’s large eyes, along with another hint of compassion. However, there were some things he wanted his captives to know, and other things he did not.

Arching his brow, he cast a sneering glare at Renarde. “Do not talk of my life’s path and I’ll do the courtesy of not discussing yours.”

The companion flinched, bright flags of color blooming in her plump cheeks.

Vivian was not so easily cowed. “Perhaps my uncle has the moral fortitude to not accept payments that were ill-gotten.”

“He doesn’t know where the money comes from. Besides, plenty of the money is honest, from the crops.” That wasn’t precisely honest, but Rhys was past caring. “The point is, Black—” he stopped and corrected himself. “—Lord Thornton, should allow my cousin to remain on her land and continue to make the payments.”

“How dare you call my uncle a blackguard!” Vivian said waspishly.

Rhys hadn’t meant to say any such thing, however, he leapt on the explanation for his slip of the tongue. “And what would you call a man who would willfully toss an innocent woman and her two children out in the cold?”

Vivian huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are they paying less than what was agreed upon?”

“Yes,” he admitted with reluctance. “However, he is wealthy enough to not depend on my cousin’s payments, and he has all the time in the world to wait for her to give him the full balance.” And Vivian would faint if she knew just how much time her uncle had.

Renarde spoke again. “She shouldn’t have mortgaged her farm if she was unable to make the full payments.”

“Her wastrel husband took out the loan.” Rhys wondered why he bothered justifying himself to these women. “He died, leaving my sweet cousin nothing but a mountain of debt.”

Vivian made a sympathetic sound before forcing a stern expression. “I am sorry to hear of your cousin’s misfortunes, but what does this have to do with me and my companion?”

“I think I know,” Madame Renarde said before Rhys could answer. She fixed him with a level stare. “You’re holding Miss Stratford for ransom.”

Rhys nodded. “I am.”

“Ransom?” Vivian looked shocked, and yet somehow relieved. “Do you mean that if my uncle gives the deed back to your cousin’s farm, you’ll let me go?”

“In a manner of speaking. He will give me the money owed on the mortgage,” Rhys explained. “And my cousin can pay him and be held blameless in all this.”

Vivian nodded, whether in agreement with his strategy or simply comprehension of his reasoning, he could not tell. Then a line formed between her brows as she frowned. “But why did you take Madame Renarde as well? You could have left her with Jeffries and they could have returned together to my uncle’s home safely.”

Renarde made a disapproving sniff. “I would have refused. It is my duty to watch over you and ensure your safety.”

“Precisely.” Rhys favored Renarde with a respectful nod before turning back to Vivian. “As well as to vouch for your chastity when you are returned to Lord Thornton.” An ache formed in his heart at the words. He hadn’t expected to mourn the loss of the opportunity to make love to her as much as he was now.

He shook his head. What kind of a fool was he? Even if she hadn’t been the great-grand-niece of the Lord Vampire of Blackpool, there would have been no hope for a carnal relationship between them anyway. First because she was a mortal and he was a vampire, second, because she was of gentle birth while he was a criminal. And even if those things could be overcome, it was doubtful their paths would have crossed again, had he not needed to kidnap her for ransom.

“You fool,” Renarde hissed as if she’d been reading his thoughts. “Miss Stratford is already ruined. You’ve destroyed her reputation the moment you brought her here. My testimony of her purity will mean little to nothing as she’s already spent company in the presence of a criminal.”

In most circumstances, the companion would be right. “On the contrary, Madame,” Rhys said. “I know Lord Thornton better than you might think. He will have ways of keeping this situation secret. All of his peers will believe Miss Stratford went to visit other kin, or even returned to her father in London, if that is what he must say to convince them.” He glanced back at Vivian, directing his words to her as well. “However, I have the feeling he would care very much if someone of my ilk were to spoil his niece’s innocence.”

Vivian’s face flushed a deep crimson at the topic of her maidenhood. Rhys sympathized, yet one must be pragmatic in these sorts of circumstances.

Renarde nodded, yet her countenance was still rife with doubt. “And what makes you think His Lordship will believe my testimony?”

“He will believe you,” Rhys assured her. “Lord Thornton has ways of discerning truth from lies.”

“He does,” Vivian said softly, her cheeks still pink. “You sound as if you know him.”

“I’ve yet to make his acquaintance,” Rhys said cautiously. And he wished to keep it that way, as he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders. “However, I do know quite a lot about him.”

Madame Renarde waved an impatient hand. “Let us say you are correct in your assumption and Lord Thornton would indeed believe me if I told him that my charge remained untouched during her captivity. That would be most ideal. However, there is still a large problem.”

“And that is?” Rhys inquired.

“I do not believe you will be able to keep your hands off of Miss Stratford. I saw the way you kissed her after you robbed our carriage.”

Rhys drew back at the discomfiting reminder. He’d been so engrossed in that captivating kiss that he’d been completely oblivious to witnesses. He hadn’t lost his head over a maiden since his mortal days. A feeling of unease settled deep in his bones. Yes, he found Vivian to be breathtakingly beautiful and he admired her courage and spirit, but he hadn’t really factored those observations into his scheme.

He’d thought taking her companion would keep Vivian’s presence in his cave as proper as possible under the circumstances. But Rhys was a vampire, and if he wanted to keep Renarde out of the way to steal kisses, it would be as easy as plucking a rose from another’s garden.

Faced with that fact, Rhys had to ask himself, could he resist the temptation to touch his hostage?

He glanced at the object of his fascination and was scorched by her wrathful glare.

Well, that solved the issue. She loathed him now. And he would never touch a woman who did not desire his caress.

But if Vivian’s icy resolve thawed?

That would be a different matter entirely.