Cat and Mouse (12 page)

Katrina winced and averted her gaze. She shook her head.

Max felt as if he could no longer stand upright in the room. He himself lifted the third covering and tossed it back down just as quickly after Katrina rejected it. He took her by the elbow. “Thank you, Mr Timothy. You’ve eased Miss Harwood’s mind considerably,” he said as they broke through the velvet curtains.

“Call any time. We’re here most every day.”

Mr Timothy’s voice faded fast behind them as they hurried for the front door.

Once outside, they both drew in mouthfuls of what fresh air London afforded, trying to purge themselves of the stench and taste of decay and embalming solution.

“Definitely not the way to spend recreational time,” Max panted, trying to lighten the situation.

“How does he do that day in and day out?”

“We will never know. Some people are just cut out for that sort of occupation.”

“By the way, none of those corpses where Jimmy,” she said with a painful, distant look in her eyes.

“I didn’t think so, either. Come.” Max offered his elbow and together they headed in the direction of his town house.

* * * *

The second they turned down Hamilton Place, all thoughts of how beautiful she felt strolling along on the arm of Maxwell Courtland vanished, and Katrina began to worry. She’d pilfered, or at least tried to pilfer, from a house on this very street not three nights ago. Was Maxwell the victim’s neighbour? Had that woman noticed her diamond earrings were gone and raised the alarm in the vicinity? Did she linger even now on the street in search of them? Katrina peered down the street. Mercifully, no one was about.

Maxwell paused at the foot of a brick pathway—at the exact property that deeply concerned her. She peered at him and almost thought she saw a smile curl the corners of his lips.

“Is something wrong?” he inquired.

“No!” she replied much louder than she’d wanted to. Contrary to what she wished to believe, she was a dreadful liar when taken by surprise. She cleared her throat. “Why?”

“Nothing, really. It’s just that your steps have slowed ever since we rounded the last corner onto Hamilton Place.”

“Oh,” she said in way of apology.

Maxwell started forward once again. He placed his hand on the iron latch and her breath caught. Tossing the gate wide, he escorted her through.

Shite
.

Inside the breezeway, Katrina glanced around, trying not to appear frantic.

She felt her blood thicken when a butler appeared, but Maxwell waved him off. “No need, Simmons. I’ve got this one.” Without missing a step, the man departed and left them alone in the corridor.

Katrina felt a single drop of perspiration inch its way down between her shoulder blades.

Maxwell took her by the hand and drew her up the main staircase. He paused only briefly on the first landing. “Look familiar?”

“What?” She nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Does my home look familiar to you?” he asked and continued on to yet another set of stairs.

“I—I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He chuckled and led her through a set of double doors to a spacious, very masculine bedroom. “Indeed you do. You attended my ball earlier this week.”

“I—I—
Your
ball?”

“There’s no need to pretend otherwise. It’s all behind us.” He gave a bit of a smirk.

How odd, she thought, that he hadn’t cared that she’d nearly pilfered a good deal of his silver that night.

“Honestly, your attendance is irrelevant. However…” His voice lowered to an intimate level. “That was the night you got your first taste of my hand upon your bottom.”

Katrina choked and set her cool fingers upon her burning cheek. She should have scolded him right then and there for remarking aloud about her penchant for his rough play, but now that it was out, and just between the two of them, it didn’t seem so upsetting. She dropped her hand to her side. Could it be that he was truly a trustworthy man or did this sense of trust come from the carnal sport they’d shared together?

He stopped in the middle of the room, turned and pulled her close. “Can I tempt you with any other pleasures, Katrina?”

She looked away. It wasn’t even noon yet and her thoughts could have easily drifted to… Her gaze landed on an open door off to the left of the huge four-poster bed and the sizable porcelain tub that lay therein.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Ah, yes,” he murmured, having obviously followed her line of sight. “Would you like to take a bath while I pack a few things?”

“Could I?” She despised the audible desperation in her voice, but if it got her into a tub of hot water, she didn’t care if she sounded like a braying donkey. “I would like nothing more in the world.”

“Very well. Come.”

Maxwell brought her in to where the tub stood on four golden claw feet and showed her how to work the matched plumbing. He retired from both chambers and in no time, Katrina was up to her chin in luxurious hot water.

* * * *

Contented and pruned to her toes, Katrina, wrapped in a large drying towel, cautiously peeked into the bedroom from where she’d soaked for who knew how long. She expected her clothes to be lying on the bed where she’d left them, but they weren’t there. She quickly scanned the room. They weren’t hanging on the privacy screen in the corner, they weren’t draped over the chairs near the fireplace, and neither did they lie atop the fainting couch beneath the window. If this was some sort of joke Maxwell had made at her expense, it wasn’t remotely funny. She promised herself that she’d wait only a few minutes longer before sounding some sort of alarm out of the door and down the hallway.

Drawn to the focal point of the room, Katrina inspected the huge four-poster. The deep burgundy brocade bed covering matched the velvet curtains perfectly, but then what else did she expect? Maxwell was a wealthy man. He could likely afford a change of linens and draperies for every day of the week.

On the bedside table sat an iron-bound leather chest. The box looked similar to her father’s tobacco and pipes house—but that couldn’t be what it was. Maxwell didn’t smell of pipe smoke. In fact, he smelt cleaner than any man she’d ever stood next to. With a glance in the direction of the door, she pushed aside the bolt and lifted the lid. Strangely shaped items set deep in black velvet grooves met her gaze, including a few pen-shaped items that were far too wide to be writing implements. She leaned in to take a closer look and found that they were shaped quite like—

“Oh, good heavens.” Katrina placed her hand upon the lid to slam the chest shut when a sheer white organdie drawstring bag holding a strand of green beads caught her eye. “What on earth…?” She reached in and drew out the bag, dumping the bauble into her hand. The thumb-sized, perfectly shaped stone balls clacked against one another. The beads were green jade and smooth and in between each lay a knot in the sturdy thread that shone like oriental silk. She held them up by one side, her gaze roving up and down the long strand.

“And they say I’m curious.”

Katrina was sure that for a second her feet had left the floor entirely. “Who says that?” she all but yelled and made to lower the beads back into the box.

“Well,
you
for one.” Maxwell took the beads by the opposite end and draped them over her shoulder.

“Busybody. I said you were a busybody.” The strand slipped through her fingers and he caught it.

“And the definition of a busybody is…?” As he waited for her response, he dragged the beads back and forth over the muscles between her neck and shoulder.

Her eyelids fluttered shut. “One who can’t mind his own business.”

“Someone who is nosey?”

“Yes,” she whispered, revelling in the feel of the beads as they thudded across her strained muscles. It almost tickled, but was strangely soothing at the same time.

“Someone who rummages through another’s possessions?” he whispered.

“Mmm.” Maxwell trailed the beads to her décolletage and back and forth across her skin. Her entire being relaxed and her head lolled backwards in utter rapture, only to rest upon his shoulder behind her.

The strand acted as a necklace as he tied it in place. “I want to show you something, Katrina.” His voice floated by her ear like a breeze.

Maxwell gently took hold of her hands and placed them up behind his neck. “Interlock your fingers.”

At his suggestion that was more like a breath than words, she did as she was told. Slowly her drying towel slid open, then down her body to rest upon the floor. Maxwell began plying the beads to her skin again, this time running them over her bare chest. She inhaled and held her breath as the strand rippled over her nipples. Back, forth and across, she arched in invitation for him to continue. The beads delighted her with a buzzing pleasure she found utterly delicious.

She was nearly out of breath when the strand rolled down her belly and over each hip.

“Spread your legs just a bit for me.”

Katrina took one step to the right. She opened her eyes wide when the cool beads came to rest between her legs. “Maxwell…” She unlaced her fingers and her hands came to rest at her sides.

“Shhhhh… Shut your eyes, Katrina. I’m not done yet.”

She swallowed and did as she was told. Slowly he began to draw the beads up over her clitoris. When he reached the end of the strand, he reversed the action. Katrina whimpered as the jade rumbled over her sensitised skin, shaking her with wicked vibrations.

Her breathing became heavy, her body strained to reach the exquisite orgasm she knew awaited her with the next pass of the beads. Her eyelids fluttered open for a second and she glimpsed Maxwell on his knees watching as he worked the beads over her body with a look of both carnal knowledge and awe.

He sped the slick beads over her faster and faster, the zipping sound of the strand demanding she take her pleasure now. She cried out in an ancient song of ecstasy and came. At once Maxwell pressed a finger up inside her, sending even more pleasure to her core and shock waves over her body.

“Beautiful, absolutely astounding,” she heard him declare as she pitched sideways to take hold of the nearest post. How was it that he was panting as hard as she? He removed his hand and the beads and helped her recline upon the bed. He stepped over to the wash basin but returned quickly. Just how he’d got undressed so fast she’d never know.

As Maxwell drew a cover up and arranged it around them just so, her body trembled with the after affects his naughty beads had had on her. She’d never heard of such a thing in all her life. But, God, how she’d enjoyed it.

“Katrina,” he murmured, still out of breath.

“You don’t have to say a word. Just take me.”

“Oh, God, Katrina.” Maxwell’s voice sounded like the harsh whisper of a dying man. “How desperately I’ve wanted you.” He shifted to hover over her, cool air stealing under the covers where their warm bodies had created heat, and placed himself between her legs. He sank the full, hard length of him deep inside her. Her inner muscles accommodated him and clasped at the width of his cock. He made to draw out and she bore down on him so as not to allow it. He groaned. “So unbelievably tight.” He doubled his efforts and as if her body knew instinctively what to do, her hips rose to meet his, establishing a primitive rhythm that reverberated to the depths of her soul. He’d pleasured her with the beads and now her insides were being served the same indulgence.

Without missing a beat, Maxwell drew one of her legs up so that her knee dug into the side of his ribs. He angled his cock and thrust so hard that she felt as if she were going to shatter into a million shimmering pieces.

She clutched at his shoulders and held on, taking in his scent and feeling the strength of his body as it crashed down against hers. “Oh… Maxwell…” Was she pleading with him or did she wish to convey her unfathomable joy? There was no safer haven, nor more blissful pursuit such as what he provided. Handsome, strong, kind…certainly knowledgeable in the sexual arts.

When she came, stars exploded behind Katrina’s eyes and her body reacted just as intensely.

“Katrina,” he moaned. Maxwell’s muscles strained beneath her hands, she could feel his orgasm as it hurtled through his body.

With the euphoria she felt coursing through her, she now understood what all the to-do was about.

Chapter Thirteen

“Well, do I look the part?”

“Mr Brenner, you seem entirely well-to-do—impeccably dressed—a member of the elite.”

Max and Brenner stood at the side entrance to White’s. Max elaborately primped and fluffed Brenner’s evening wear, picking imaginary lint from his sleeves, ruffling the jacket fibres to a noticeable softness. The man, thief or no, certainly had a demonstrative regard for the dramatic. “Now, go on in. No one will question you.”

“What? You won’t be joining me?”

“I couldn’t possibly be seen after all that my family has been through,” he said, not only with a straight face but managing a palpable concern via his drawn together eyebrows. He was defiantly getting the hang of this.

“And what if they
do
question me?”

“If they ask by which member you gained your entrance, tell them—” A smile nearly blossomed upon his face at his inspired idea. “Tell them ‘the youngest man ever to get silk in the history of Great Britain’ and that they’ll have to wait until the end of the week for the papers to divulge that information.” Max chuckled then. “I promise you, they’ll be more than accommodating especially after the whispers begin. You’ll be the most favoured guest of the evening.”

“A judge, eh? My, my. You did run in elevated circles, didn’t you?”

“We can gloat later, Mr Brenner. Through this door is an entire flock just waiting to be fleeced.”

“Right you are.” Brenner grinned and Max returned it.

Max’s smile faded when the side door to White’s shut with Brenner inside.
What a bastard
. He had no doubt the rat would succeed in his dubious efforts that night and into the wee hours of the morning. “Let him do well,” Max whispered the wish to the sky. He was certain the contemptible man’s end was coming soon, one way or another.
Very soon
.