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Livie spun around to the window, stifling a scream. “Mr. Trantor? Is that you?”

The man had his head poking through the side of the window, his gaze quickly scanning the room. “It is, indeed. We’ve come to rescue you.”

“We?” So it was Seb and his men. Her trepidation turned to relief.

“Yes, we.” Seb’s deep voice rumbled from the cell’s entrance.

Her head twisted around, and she glanced over her shoulder. Her whole body sagged in relief and an almost overwhelming urge to cry came over her. She really was safe now. Her eyes desperately latched onto Seb’s face, which shone into view, the lamps lining the walls on the outside of her cell throwing his features into sharp relief.

“You came for me.” He’d placed himself in danger to rescue her. A jumble of gratitude, ardor, and fear for what could have happened to him, nearly overcame her.

“Of course I did.” He strode up to the cell door, his shirt soaked in blood.

“You’re bleeding!” She gasped, rushing toward where he was standing near the gate as quickly as her extremely sore leg would allow. Not that she could do anything, trapped as she was in the cell, at least until they retrieved the key.

“It’s not my blood.” Seb shrugged, his eyes never leaving her own as she made her way over to him, but then he glanced down at her limp. “You’re hurt.” Suddenly, his expression darkened, and he appeared coldly furious.

“It’s just some cramping from having my weight on it. It won’t slow us down. At least not much.”

“I’m going to enjoy tearing that man limb from bloody limb.” He looked over to where Lance was still poking his head through the open window. “Round the men up. I want this man called Orestes found.”

Lance yelled a muffled, “On it,” before, presumably, disappearing from sight.

Although Livie couldn’t be entirely certain of that, because Sebastian had just returned his gaze to hers, and she was powerless to look anywhere else, as he was staring at her with such intensity that Livie thought she just might combust.

“I’m relieved it’s not your blood.” She didn’t know why she suddenly felt awkward, but she did. But then her brows drew together. “The man got away?”

Seb nodded. “Someone must have warned him we were coming. Did you recognize him?”

“No, he kept most of his face hidden in the shadows. But I thought I recognized his voice, though I couldn’t place it.”

“He might be someone you know, then, if he went to efforts to stay hidden from you,” Seb replied. “Now, move aside, I want you out of there.”

After she’d gotten clear of the door, Seb pulled out a revolver from the waistband of his trousers and placed its muzzle directly on the lock of the gate.

“Cover your ears.”

Livie did as instructed, while Seb pressed the trigger. The sound of the pistol firing was deafening, but effective, as the bullet smashed into the lock, obliterating the mechanism in an instant, allowing the door to swing open.

Freedom! Thank goodness. Livie felt her leg start to give out from under her.

Seb must have seen her struggling, because he strode into the cell and scooped her up into his arms. Normally, Livie would take exception to being treated like a weakling, but the truth of it was, she was weak at the moment. Not only was her leg practically giving out from under her, but her composure was on the verge of coming apart at the seams with the realization of the true danger she’d been in.

But Seb’s strong arms held her against his chest, cradling her in his embrace as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. He walked with her up the stairs and away from the basement, and she’d never felt so safe or protected in her life than right at that moment. After everything she’d just been through, those feelings were exactly what she needed—desperately. In fact, she’d never been more pleased to see anyone then she was to see Sebastian.

As they came up to the ground floor of the warehouse, Livie saw several men on the floor covered in blood and for all intents looking as if they were dead. She couldn’t help but flinch at the confronting sight.

“Don’t look at them,” Seb said, his voice a comforting whisper in her ear.

She nodded into his shoulder. A part of her felt sorry for them, and another part, the more uncharitable part of her, hoped they were receiving a reckoning about now, the likes of which they’d never imagined. “Is it uncharitable to say I hope they are being punished in the afterlife?”

“I think it’s rather tame of you actually,” Seb murmured, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. “I imagine there’s a special place in Hell awaiting them.”

Livie had to agree, certain that that was exactly the place the men were headed. “Did you kill them?”

“Some,” he told her truthfully. “But certainly not all of them. Does that frighten you?”

He was being truthful with her, and he deserved the truth in return. “A little.” Men in her world didn’t kill others. They never had a need to.

“It should. I’m not a good man, Olivia. I’ve done things that others would never have even had to contemplate.” She felt him shrug. “Some I regret, but most I would happily do again. Best you know and understand that with absolute certainty before we continue anything further between us.”

That he’d obviously given thought to the idea of something continuing between them filled her with nervous anticipation. Not that the something could be anything other than a brief, illicit liaison, of course; they were worlds apart in their social standing, meaning it could never be anything more. For to be with him openly would mean giving up her family, her friends, and the world she knew. It would mean complete ruin and scandal for her entire family, and as annoying as her older brothers and father were at times, the last thing she would ever do was intentionally

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