Tugging her hair into a braid, Julianna looped a ribbon around it and pulled it tight. Dark rings haunted her eyes and they felt dry and itchy. Sleep had eluded her for most of the night and when she had finally fallen asleep, her dreams had been strange—a combination of kissing Drake and being discovered by John and her world crumbling apart.

Kissing Drake had been a mistake. “A big mistake,” she told her reflection. “And do not forget it.” She jabbed a finger at the woman in the mirror, but the woman merely lifted a brow as if to say, ‘was it really a mistake?’

It had to be. She had not come here looking for love or romance. And Drake was not the sort of man to do either anyway. She’d already seen how he was with women. She did not much fancy being one of the many on his list, no matter how perfect that kiss had been.

She sucked in a breath and glared at the red stain blossoming on her cheeks as she thought about the kiss. She had bigger things to worry about than kisses, for goodness sakes.

A tangle of knots tugged in her stomach, reminding her of her predicament. If John found her...

Lifting her chin, she patted her hair and opened the door, drawing it shut then locking it behind her.

“Princess.”

She whirled with a strangled cry. A hand to her chest, she glared at Drake. “You scared me.”

He pushed away from the wall and gave her a rueful smile. “Forgive me.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

She cocked her head. “You do not have better things to do with your time than wait around outside ladies’ bedrooms?”

He grinned. “I’d rather be waiting inside.”

Julianna shook her head but could not prevent a smile from teasing her lips. Drake had not changed one jot and that was something of a comfort when her world had been turned upside down and could very well change again if John discovered her.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“You know what.”

More kisses. The words flashed into her mind and she dropped her gaze briefly to his mouth.

“Definitely,” he agreed. “But another time.”

Had she said the words aloud or was he a mystic? She narrowed her gaze at him.

He gave a shrug. “You are terribly obvious sometimes, Princess.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Definitely. It’s one of my better traits,” he said smugly.

“I have work to do, you know.”

“No one is up yet. You can spare me a few minutes to explain why I had to smuggle you off the ship and lie to a stranger.”

Her mouth dried at the mention of John. A shiver cast its icy touch up her spine. Swallowing, she nodded. “I will. Come downstairs.”

Drake followed her into the kitchen and she made them a cup of tea each and handed him one. “Let’s sit in the private taproom,” she suggested.

He nodded, and they moved into the small room intended for richer guests who wanted privacy with their visiting party. The embers in the grate still glowed and she threw several logs and kindling on and gave the fire a stoke. They caught quickly, warming the darkened room. Drake sat and waited for her, even as she took her time to warm her hands in front of the flames. There was no putting it off, she supposed, and she did owe him an explanation, but she had so hoped to put this whole nasty mess behind her.

He could be trusted, though. She was certain of that. Perhaps not with her body...or even her heart. But with her secrets, yes.

She sat down opposite him and took a sip of sweetened tea. “I—” She paused and lifted a hand. “The man you met last night. The man who was searching for me is John Slade. John is...was...no, is I suppose, my fiancé.”

Drake’s expression darkened. “You’re engaged.”

“I was. I mean, I still am in some ways. But I do not wish to be.”

Creases appeared between his brows. “Princess?”

“Forgive me, I am doing an awful job of explaining this.” She cupped her hands around the warm drink in an attempt to dispel the awful chill that invaded her whenever she recalled John’s steely eyes or his iron grip. “My father is in a lot of debt. He was always determined to live up to the family name, no matter how much it cost us. John is a rich baron. A match between us would have suited my father well.”

“So it was an arranged match?”

“Yes.”

Drake’s posture eased a little. “A match you did not want, I presume?”

“There were rumors surrounding John—that he had pushed his wife down the stairs. None could prove it and he said she tripped. A serving girl later confirmed the story before she disappeared. Some said she was paid to vanish, but I feared otherwise.”

“Christ.”

Julianna nodded. “I was already terrified of the match, but my father insisted it was just silly rumors and I must marry him. When John caught wind of my reluctance to marry him. He was...well...he was angry.”

Drake’s fingers tightened around the cup. She saw his knuckles whiten. His clenched jaw. “Did he hurt you?”

She touched a hand to her neck before she realized what she’d done.

“He did, did he not?”

There was no denying it. What was the point? “He pushed me up against a wall and threatened me. Said he would tarnish my father’s name if I denied him. Told me I had no choice and I would submit to him.” She swallowed. “And he was right. I had no choice. My father cared little for whether I was happy with the match so long as he got his money. When he tried to...to force himself upon me, I fought him off and I ran. I knew Knight was here from his letters, so I gathered a few belongings and what little coin I had, and I fled.”

She heard Drake draw in a heavy breath. He stood abruptly, the chair screeching against the floorboards. He turned his back to her. “By God, I should have killed him yesterday.”

“No, you should not. He’s an important man, and I would not see you hung for murder.”

Facing her once more, he eyed her. “You were terrified of him last night,” he stated. “I should have known he’d done something terrible. You’re the most courageous person I know.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered. She’d been scared for most of the journey here and for much of her time staying in Cornwall. Scared that John would find her. Scared that she could not make a life for herself here. She glanced at Drake. Scared that she would fall for a rogue.

“I’ll find him,” he vowed. “And I’ll gut him. You need never fear him again.”

Julianna stood and put a hand to his arm. “No. Please. It is too dangerous for you to touch him. Hopefully he will not find me, and he will return to the borderlands emptyhanded.”

“And if he does find you?”

“I will stay here. I’m safe here. I can hide if he comes in.”

“That’s not good enough. You should not have to spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder, in fear of a man. And he should not have laid a damned finger on you.”

His fierce expression dug deep into her heart. Did he think because he’d kissed her, he owed her something? She could not let herself believe anything else. After all, this was Drake. Her brother had warned her away and she’d seen enough with her own eyes to know he could never want her for anything more than kisses or as a bed partner.

“It is not your problem, Drake,” she said softly.

“Like hell it isn’t. It became my problem the moment you...” He shoved a hand through his hair. “This is my problem, Princess, and don’t you tell me otherwise.”

“I—” There was a bellow from the main taproom. Julianna sighed and pointed a finger at Drake. “Do not do anything rash. I mean it.” 

She pushed open the door to find the first customers of the day waiting at a table. She’d have to make haste if she was to get the morning meals ready. Plastering on a smile, she greeted them and took their orders. When she returned to the kitchen, Drake followed her through.

“You should tell Louisa that you cannot work today. What if he comes in?”

“I am certainly not telling her that. Do you not think I don’t know what a favor she has done for me? Especially with what a disaster I was at first? I will not let that man send me into hiding.”

“Your courage has risen since last night,” he mused. “You cannot fool me for a second. I know you’re still scared of him.”

“It doesn’t matter what I am. There is little I can do about it, but I will not let him ruin my life here.”

Drake shook his head. “That’s not good enough. He needs to pay for ever touching you.” He took a step forward and skimmed a finger over her neck. She stilled, a tingle of pleasure hurtling through her at the touch. “He touched you here, did he not? I noticed you put a hand to your neck.”

She nodded, words evading her. His eyes were soft and delving as though looking through her very soul. She realized he smelled of soap. With how wrapped up in her own worry, she had hardly taken the time to notice Drake, but she was noticing now. His shirt open at the neck, his waistcoat fitting perfectly around his abdomen, his jacket emphasizing that wide chest that had wrapped around her so protectively last night...she noticed it all now.

Julianna darted back, her rear bumping into a table and making the plates on it rattle. The haze dissipated. “I must get to work.”

She slipped past him and out into the taproom to pour the drinks. Meals would have to wait a moment, at least until Drake had gone. She could not remain in a small room with him—it was simply too dangerous. Her heart pulsed hard to remind her exactly what was at risk.

“This isn’t over,” he warned her, retrieving his hat that she had not even noticed was there from the bar.

She opened her mouth to protest but he had gone, leaving nothing but a breeze of wind and a slamming door. Palms pressed against the worn wood of the bar, she eyed the various notches in it. She could not decide who was more dangerous to her person now. John or Drake? John might want to hurt her physically, but scars healed. She feared Drake was already etching himself on her heart, and there would be no recovering from that.