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no circumstance would she leave him behind. She could well envision him taking another swing at the loom before he left. The engine sputtered, and then went still .
     
    Ramsey glanced toward her, then at the open window, clearly waffling. " All right, Nicola , you win. But, confound it , hurry. " He glided toward the window and vaulted outside.
     
    With axe in hand, Nicola sat on the sill, preparing to ease herself over it. Her skirt snagged again, trapping her. " Zooterkins , " she muttered, remembering the splintered wood.
     
    Ramsey motioned for her to hurry as she yanked frantically at her skirt. Shouts sounded nearby and he ducked.
     
    " Go on, " she whispered, waving him away even as her throat clogged with fear.
     
    Her cousin ran both hands through his hair and looked t oward the men as they began circling the building . One separated and moved in their direction. Nicola shooed at Ramsey again, then in desperation worked to loosen her dress as her cousin ran into the thi ck brush. Oh, if only she had worn breeches under her dress so she could le ap through the window as easily.
     
    Just as she freed herself, the door opened on the far side of the room. Sliding to the floor, Nicola ducked behind the nearest worktable. She gathered her skirts close, unmindful of the dirty floor, and hoped the sturdy table provided enough cover.
     
    Drat Ramsey for g etting her into this situation— though the instant the thought formed, she admonished herself. Her cousin was o nly doing what he thought best and , in rescuing him, she was only doing what she thought best.
     
    Light flooded the stockingers ' workroom, bright fingers groping for her condemning presence at the scene of the crime. A dark figure of a man held a lantern, which he set on a table.
     
    She could squirm herself out of the most compromising situations. Ramsey had always commended her for her glib tongue. Palms slick, she wiped them on her dress, and vowed to make him repay her for this little episode.
     
    She groped for a reasonable explanation for her presence in this factory in the middle of the night. I was riding by and thought I heard an intruder . No one would believe that she ' d sought an intruder on her own. I wondered how a workroom would look, and when I peeked through the window, I fell inside? Anyone who accepted such an excuse would have to be as chuckle-headed as anyone who offered it.
     
    From where she crouched in the comer, she peered into the halo of bright light at the large silhouette of the man. Although she couldn ' t see his features, his height and broad shoulders belonged to someone imposing. The dimly lit wall sconces barely touched him, but silver light from the moon shone through a window and she suddenly knew him.
     
    The Black Falcon.
     
    The silvery rays suited him, caused him to look mysterious and dangerous. The caped greatcoat he wore flared as he pivoted. Snug breeches hugged the powerful lines of his muscled legs. Light limned his cheekbones, and briefly caught in the reflection of his eyes as he searched the room. Pure masculine strength poured from him and he seemed to command the rate of Nicola ' s heartbeat, the tingling sensations upon her skin, her very breath.
     
    When she realized she still held the axe, a sliver of dread pierced her. Why hadn ' t she pitched the thing out the window? Now it burned a brand in her palm while the marred loom seemed to cry out like an injured lamb.
     
    Falcon walked to the middle of the room, bringing him closer to the damaged property. His broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist. All right, she admitted the man was impressive. Nicola had the distinct image of a huge bird of prey about to swoop down on her. The light refused to reveal his features, even though she squinted hard.
     
    His hand rested on his hip in an almost insolent stance. From rumors she knew he was clever, perhaps too clever for her machinations. He turned slowly toward her. In fascinated horror, she