His vantage point allowed him to see far too clearly the way Abington’s hand caressed Mari’s lower back as he escorted her to the waiting carriage. Bennett pressed himself so tightly against the wall that the bricks dug into his shoulder blades. Every base male instinct ordered him to stride over to the coach and rip Mari away from Abington. But thankfully, his control held. He’d thought escaping her presence would help. Surely, he could find something to else to occupy his thoughts, something that didn’t involve watching her until he’d memorized the intriguing curve of her cheek. Or straining to hear her murmuring voice on the other side of the door. But he couldn’t. Desire for her still consumed him. He forced himself to focus. This was his best chance to capture the man following her. And he’d given his word he would do that. After tonight, he intended to have the answers he needed to find the person who knew of Mari’s work. Then at the end of the week, once she sketched Vourth, he’d be free to return home.
