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she pressed a hand to her abdomen, and said, “Did Sir Brook find your brother? Is he here? In Bath?”
    â€œYes.” His gaze lowered to her hand, held tight against her abdomen. He explained what Derring had told him, but he was hardly aware of what he said until she gasped and wrapped her hand around his wrist. Her touch silenced him. Her small hand was white and cold, and he realized no fire burned in the hearth. He resisted the urge to pull her close and warm her.
    â€œBut no wonder Sir Brook was injured! You cannot go to Avon Street. Not at this hour. It’s not safe.”
    â€œI shall take care.” It felt strange for him to say the words. He could not remember the last time anyone had expressed any concern whatsoever for his well-being.
    â€œFlynn, you must listen to me. It is far too dangerous. Wait until tomorrow. Promise me.”
    He had no qualms about lying under most circumstances, but for whatever reason, he could not lie to her. “My brother needs me, Lady Emma.”
    â€œHe needs you alive!”
    â€œHe needs me tonight,” Flynn said.
    She blinked up at him. “You really do hold yourself responsible, don’t you?”
    He tried to back away, but her light touch on his wrist held him rooted in place. Her gaze unnerved him now. It was as though she could see down deep into his black soul.
    â€œYou’re not, you know? Responsible. You were a child—”
    â€œEmma.” He put a finger over her lips, causing her hand to fall away from his wrist, and her dark eyes to round into saucers. He was not certain what he had intended to say but, he heard himself say, “Good-bye.”
    He would have walked away then, but he saw her gaze dip from his eyes to his lips, and he knew what she wanted. He wanted it too—one last kiss, one last taste. If he did not fare better than Derring, perhaps his last kiss ever.
    He lowered his mouth to hers, slowly, giving her time to move away if that was what she desired. Instead, she leaned into him, her soft body pressing into his chest as she rose on tiptoes to meet his lips with hers.
    She was so soft, so sweet. He could feel the fullness of her breasts where her body met his, and he could not stop himself from cupping her face and rubbing his thumbs along her velvet cheeks.
    â€œStay,” she whispered as he lifted her chin and angled her mouth so he could brush his lips across it. The order was tempting, so tempting. He wanted to stay with her. He did not want to go out into the night, to travel across town in search of opium dens and a brother he no longer knew. Flynn had never been one for duty—or at least the impulse in him had been well and truly buried—but deep down he felt his better instincts shaking off the rubble of neglect. He could not stay.
    He would release her and say farewell—right after he kissed her just one more time.
    Flynn slid his hand to the back of her neck, cupping the base of her head and threading his fingers into her thick, dark hair. She melted into him, offering no resistance, her eyes fluttering closed as he, once again, lowered his mouth to hers. He slid his lips over hers, reveling in the softness of her skin, the scent of flowers, and the small sigh she gave at the contact between them. With one hand splayed across her back, he could feel how warm she was now, and her heat infused him as he allowed his lips to explore hers.
    It was not the brotherly good-bye he should have given her, and he moved to pull away. But just as he did so, he felt one of her hands settle on his chest and slide upward to curl around his neck. The gesture was unintentionally seductive, and the flare of desire that flashed through him was more than Flynn could resist.
    His need for her took over, and he slanted his mouth over hers, taking her completely. The moment their tongues touched, he felt as though the entire room tilted. He had thought there was something in the air earlier,