Julianna glared at the spot on the table. Dropping the cloth into a bucket, she wrung it out and scrubbed again. “You...will...be...clean,” she told the spot while she rubbed vigorously at the tabletop.

In truth, none of the tables would ever be gleaming. Years of abuse and use had taken its toll on the furnishings at the inn. No one expected it to look spotless. But rubbing this blasted spot was a better alternative to tossing and turning in bed, wondering if tomorrow would be the day John found her. He might well have already come into the inn, but if he had, he had not been there when she had, and people had kept their mouths closed. Few who frequented the Ship would talk with a stranger, she was learning, particularly with the rumors of smuggling she heard swirling around the inn. Louisa refused to say a thing which confounded Julianna. If there were smugglers frequenting the tavern, surely she would not want them here?

“I think the table is clean.”

She whirled, cloth in hand, a fist raised. Her furious heartbeat settled swiftly when her gaze landed on Drake in the doorway.

“You startled me.”

He shut the door behind him and strode over to her. “I thought you’d hear the door.” He glanced around the empty room. “No stragglers tonight.”

“No. What are you doing here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I work here.”

He took the cloth from her hand and dropped it back into the bucket with a slopping sound. “I’ve spent the day searching for Slade, but I could not settle until I knew you were well.”

She eyed him. She’d been aware his friends were watching out for her—odd indeed given Lord Redmere likely had much better things to do with his time—and she had suspected it had been under Drake’s orders. Their friendship was an odd one indeed. Even if Drake had money, she could not fathom why an earl and his younger brother would frequent this inn with such regularity rather than visiting one of the gentleman’s clubs in Truro or a fine restaurant.

However, she hadn’t realized he’d been seeking out John. What would Drake even do if he found him?

“You need not have done. I am fine. I have been fine. Knight came by earlier to check.”

“He’s likely hiding out in whatever hole it is he frequents to listen for word of John.”

“He did say he was going to try to find out what he could. He made no mention that you were aiding him, though.”

Drake smirked. “No, but then he would not, would he?”

“Why does my brother not like you?”

“He likes me well enough.” He chuckled to himself. “Well, as much as Knight likes anyone. He just does not like me for you.”

Julianna’s mouth dried a little. “For me?”

He nodded and eased closer. “He’s protective of you, which I can well understand. If I had a sister like you, I would be too.” He lifted a finger to touch a loose strand of hair that curled around her forehead and pushed it back. “You really are—”

A bang and a crackle from outside broke his words in two. His movement was so swift, Julianna only comprehended it once her world had begun to tilt. Her back met the floor, kicking up dust around her, and Drake threw himself on top of her. She found herself smothered by male musk and muscle...so much muscle.

She wriggled to get herself out from under him. “Drake, what—?”

There was another bang outside. Drake flinched and darted a look around. Julianna pushed against his chest but gave herself up to being crushed underneath him. She could not move him anymore than she could move a mountain.

He swung his head around and eyed her. “Stay down,” he hissed. “Godammit, stay down.”

“Drake?” The word came out fragile, partly because of the lack air in her lungs, partly because she was hardly sure who she was looking at now.

The wild look in his eyes was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Sweat clung to his brow. She could feel the furious pounding of his heart against her chest.

“It’s fireworks,” she whispered.

She’d realized that almost as soon as they’d heard the noise. They were likely being set off some distance from them too. Drake, for some reason, had not come to the same conclusion.

“Stay down,” he insisted, continuing to crush her with his body. “They’re shooting.”

“Drake...” she urged, cupping his face and directing it toward her. “It’s fireworks.”

A tremor ran through his body when another crack and fizz broke the silence. She smoothed a hand down his neck and back in an attempt to soothe away the trembling of his muscles. Keeping her other hand on his face, she forced him to look at her. Wherever he was, he was not with her, and she needed to bring him back.

“No one is shooting,” she said softly. “It’s just you and me. We are safe.” She rubbed his cheek with a thumb and the haze that had covered his gaze slowly softened.

“Drake, it’s me.”

“Julianna?” His gaze snapped into focus. His tension softened.

“I’m here.”

His pupils widened as he took in her body beneath his. No longer crushed, her body seemed to cradle his just perfectly. Her legs splayed either side of his hips, her arms wrapped about him. Julianna brought her other hand back to his face and cupped his cheeks.

“I’m here,” she repeated.

“Yes, you are,” he agreed.

She heard the heat on his tongue. Felt the heat between her legs. His body hardened, pressing into her apex. She held back a groan when he rocked ever-so-slightly into her.

“Christ, Princess.” He said the words like a curse before pressing his mouth to hers.

Julianna opened her mouth to him as his tongue swept urgently in. Lifting her breasts upward, she gave into the ache driving her body. Whatever had briefly taken him from her had gone. He was here now, sweeping her up into a world far away from inn floors and angry fiancés. A world she would far rather occupy.

He swept a hand down her side and cradled her rear so that he could rock harder into her, releasing the tension inside her at the same time as increasing it. She moaned against his mouth.

Drake moved his lips down her neck, nipping as he went. Shivers of appreciation wracked her. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her collar bone then the rise of one breast before finding her mouth again. She winnowed a hand through his hair.

“Drake,” she groaned.

“Princess,” he replied between kisses, the word gritty.

His tongue tangled with hers, over and over, drawing her up into a world that would not let her think of anything other than him. All that existed was a haze of pleasure, and solid muscles, and rough fingertips.

All that existed was Drake.

While his fingers slid up her skirt and found her thigh, she pressed a hand into the open neck of his shirt. He shuddered at the touch. She pushed further, marveling at the feel of taut skin over muscle. The ache inside her deepened, begging her to do more.

His fingers dug into her thigh and slid higher, curving around her rear. She lifted her hips into him, over and over, again and again. His mouth hot against her neck, her lips, her face, he drove her into a frenzy of scrabbling nails and nonsensical pleas.

Drake moved his mouth down and she gripped his head to her. He eased a breast out of her gown and stays, baring it to the air. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, taking in the delicious sensation of a rough thumb followed by a warm mouth. He drew her nipple into his mouth and nipped and sucked, pulling a gasp of pleasure from her.

Then he came back up to meet her mouth with his. Bare chest, revealed by her frantic grappling with his shirt, met hers. He hissed and eyed her. A coarse palm cupped her face. His cerulean gaze searched hers. Something echoed in those depths, something that made her heart give a hefty thud in between the fast hammering of desire. She had little time to question it as he brought his lips down on hers and kissed her until she could scarcely draw breath.

Drake shoved her skirts higher. She spread her palms across his back and arched into him again and again—a silent plea for more.

The thud of a door upstairs made him freeze. The sound jarred her from the haze. Awareness of the hardness of the floor filtered in. The breeze whistling in underneath the front door grazed her bare skin. The scent of sawdust from the floor whirled about her.

A rough curse escaped him. He pushed back, leaving her to cover herself hastily, feeling as though she had been dunked in the cold bucket of water. She tugged her dress back into place and opened her mouth before closing it. Drake shoved a hand through his hair and pushed up to standing.

“I should leave. I’ll check...that is Knight will—” He made a frustrated noise. “Damn it. I should leave.”

He hastened out of the inn before she could find her feet. Every part of her body blazed with heat. She touched a hand to her lips. They were as hot and swollen as she’d thought. Little prickles danced over her skin where his bristle had grazed her. There would no doubt be marks tomorrow.

Julianna swung her gaze about the room from her position on the floor. Embers glowed gently in the fire, her only company. Drawing in a breath, she willed her weak legs to move. What had just happened? One minute he had been terrified—whatever was plaguing him had reared its ugly head—and the next he had been kissing her as though she were the only woman he’d ever touched—and would ever want to touch again. She’d never experienced anything like it—the frantic need, the desperate ache. There was no chance he had not felt it too. It was wanton to admit but she would have let him do more. Do it all perhaps. He could have taken her here on the dusty floor and she would have been more than happy about it.

So why did he not? A rogue like Drake? Surely he would not pass up such an opportunity?

There was more to him than simply being a rogue, she was certain of it. She would have to find out more somehow. Knight would not take well to her questioning him about Drake, no doubt, and even Louisa could not tell her much. She would have to find out more herself.

Easing up to her feet, she retrieved the cloth from the bucket and set back to work at the stubborn spot. If she was not going to sleep before, there was no chance she was going to tonight. Her body tingled from head to toe thanks to Drake. She suspected she could clean this whole inn from top to bottom and rub her fingers raw, but she would still not forget how it felt to be underneath him.

No, this was far from over. Whatever had happened tonight, she wanted—no needed—to know more.