Her Dangerous Beast

HER DANGEROUS BEAST ROGUE’S GUILD BOOK TWO SCARLETT SCOTT Her Dangerous Beast Rogue’s Guild Book Two All rights reserved. Copyright © 2023 by Scarlett Scott Published by Happily Ever After Books, LLC Edited by Grace Bradley Cover Design by EDH Professionals This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by law. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. For more information, contact author Scarlett Scott. https://scarlettscottauthor.com CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Epilogue Don’t miss Scarlett’s other romances! About the Author For my sister, with love CHAPTER 1 Through the crack in the partially ajar door, Theo saw toes. Bare, without the veil of stockings or slippers, illuminated by the fading glow of afternoon light and a brace of candles. Against his will, the lack of decorum intrigued him. He took a silent step closer and was rewarded by the sight of trim, well-turned ankles, crossed and peeping from beneath the hem of a pink-and-white gown. Reminding him he was a man for the first time in… As long as he could recall. He should turn around. Leave those beautiful ankles and toes to their solitude. Hunt House was vast, and he’d spent the last few hours acquainting himself with every corner, from top to bottom. And yet, he still had chambers to inspect. But instead of leaving, Theo hovered at the threshold of the Duke of Ridgely’s salon, as if his boots were cemented to the hallway Axminster at his feet. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn he’d conjured this unexpected vision. But then he heard her talking to herself, mumbling something unintelligible, and he knew she was real. Who was she? Who would dare to wander about in her bare feet, inhabiting the duke’s divan, lighting his candles? She was not dressed in the familiar garb of a servant. There were only two other females in residence aside from the domestics. One was the duke’s ward, and the other his sister. Neither were women Theo ought to linger about, admiring. He was being paid handsomely to guard the duke’s London town house. Not to dally with his women. Theo cleared his throat, making his presence known. A feminine gasp sounded from within, and the toes and ankles disappeared. Pity. He’d rather been enjoying the view. “Who is there?” demanded the owner of the ankles and toes. The sharp, crisp, perfect elocution, even tinged with an edge of trepidation, was as pleasant as a warm caress. He had spent most of the years since his exile in London, and he had come to appreciate the English language in all its peculiar accents, so different from his native tongue. There was something about this voice, however, the odd mix of starch and huskiness it possessed, which settled over him. That voice was like sinking into a hot bath after a punishing day on horseback. “One of the guards, madam,” he said cooly, tamping down his unwanted reaction. Theo flattened his palm on the paneled door and pushed, allowing himself one step over the threshold. He was accustomed to London’s rules of polite society. It was unseemly for a man to linger alone with a lady to whom he hadn’t been introduced, but at the moment, he didn’t give a damn about convention. He was ever mindful of the reason for his presence here at Hunt House. An assassin had attempted to murder the duke in his sleep in the early hours of the morning. But the moment he saw her fully, his mind became empty as a night sky without stars. His reason for being here—hell, even his name—left him. For she was unspeakably lovely. Standing by the divan she had so recently been occupying, she held a leather-bound folio before her as if it were a shield. She possessed a classical beauty reminiscent of the ancient goddesses captured in the marble sculptures of his homeland. Her golden hair was bright, the same color as the rolling wheatfields he remembered from his youth in Boritania. “A guard?” the lady repeated, eyes wide, tone wary as her gaze darted about. With some amusement, he wondered if she was searching for an object which might be used as a weapon against him. Some candlestick with which to bludgeon him. “One of the guards hired by His Grace,” he added, for he did not know how much the duke had revealed to his womenfolk of the danger surrounding him. Apparently not the necessity for hired protection, judging from her confusion. Belatedly, Theo offered as elegant a bow as he could muster, given that he was carrying a small pistol, two knives, and ligatures. Reminders this was no social call; his days as a courtier had long since ended. He was a mercenary now, happy to live unfettered by the twin crushing weights of duty and obligation. His own man. Free from the past in body, if not in mind. “Why should Ridgely have hired guards?” she asked. “Does this have something to do with the housebreaker who fell down the stairs last night? And why would I not have been informed? I was told of no such amendment to the household, and I am His