Cat and Mouse (14 page)

“You trust me, don’t you? You know that I’d never hurt you.” He briefly pressed his lips to hers, then allowed her to reply.

“Yes,” she breathed her answer in a small puff of air.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached out, tossed the bolt aside and flipped open the lid. “We’ll start out…small.”

Before she could get a good look at the box’s contents, he laid her back upon the bed.

“Maxwell—”

“Just stay exactly how you are. Don’t be afraid.”

Katrina swallowed, ignoring the heat that made her feel as if her body would burst into flames at any moment. She didn’t dare try to imagine what he was about to do but was unbelievably excited to find out.

After drawing the curtains over the windows, lighting a single candle and double-checking the lock on his door, he went about placing pillows beneath parts of her body, a cylindrical bolster beneath her neck so that her head tilted slightly back. It wasn’t at all uncomfortable, but it did obscure her line of sight from her exposed body. He set padding under her bottom and a cushion underneath each knee, spreading her legs well over shoulder-width apart.

“How does that feel? Are you comfortable?”

Regardless of her racing heart and her exposed state, she managed to respond. “I am.”

“Good girl.”

Gently he took her arm and set it above her head, but to the side. He did the same for the other. Then something soft and cool like satin slipped around each of her wrists. He fell quiet and she made to lift her hands to see what he’d adorned her with, when she found she couldn’t. It was some sort of restraint. A drop of moisture oozed down between her parted legs.

“Maxwell?”

“Shhhh. Don’t speak.”

Katrina licked her lips. She could hardly keep from fidgeting when a smooth object rolled up one of her legs. She closed her eyes.
The beads
.
Oh, God.

The mattress dipped as he climbed on and settled between her legs. “I remember how much you like these,” he murmured as his fingers spread her nether lips apart.

The faint scent of olive oil tainted the air. She felt him place the cool, newly oiled strand on either side of her clitoris. Painfully slow, he dragged the beads to one end, then reversed them. All the way up and all the way down he drew the beads along her sensitised, slick skin.

Pure, blissful, throbbing torture.

On one of the passes he paused and she felt a nudging, an inch or so lower than the opening of her vagina. He began to trail the beads again, and after a few passes, the nudging became a gentle intrusion, no wider than a finger.

She squirmed to find a more comfortable position.

“Shhh, you’ll get used to it. Just breathe,” he said and began again with the beads. This time, he rushed the beads up and down until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She came and as she did, she felt him slide his finger into her vagina, and the intrusion widen her anus. She shuddered with delight at the added sensation. Suddenly, he dipped his tongue into her belly button.

It was too much, she felt out of control—she came and came again, unable to contain her moans of ecstasy. The orgasm seemed to go on and on. The higher she climbed, the louder she became. He finally brought her down slowly, gradually softening his strokes. He retreated from her, making a quick stop at the wash basin—the only evidence perceptible was the tinkling water. Not moments later, he climbed back upon the bed and snuggled close to her side.

“Did you like that?”

“It was… I never thought—how magnificent—” She turned to him in an attempt to gage his thoughts. “What about you? Surely you are in need—”

“I am. I wanted to make sure you were pleasured first.”

Katrina’s gaze dipped to his lips and back to meet his eyes. “Amazingly so.”

In a flash he slid inside her, kissing her mouth, drawing orgasms from deep inside her with his insistent cock, wrenching them from her very soul.

Later as she drifted in and out of sleep, Maxwell put the room to rights. He took great care with his ‘toys’ as he’d called them. He cleaned and dried them, and put them back into the box as if they were the crown jewels.

Carefully he climbed back into bed so as not to wake her. However, she’d not drifted off completely.

“I noticed something, uh…earlier.”

“Did you now?”

“Mm. What’s through that door?” She indicated a panel in the wall to the right side of the bed. It wasn’t a door per se—she could see that it was the width and height of one, but it bore no visible handle.

“Why, you curious little imp,” he chuckled.

Katrina shrugged a shoulder and tried to smother a grin.

“Tell you what. Since I’ve been up for over twenty-four hours and didn’t sleep well the night before, we’ll save that door for another time, shall we?”

Katrina nodded and snuggled closer still to Maxwell.

* * * *

In what felt like only the blink of an eye, Katrina awoke alone in Maxwell’s bed. She sat up, trying to ascertain what the time could possibly be, as only a faint bluish light seeped in between the curtains.

The door to the bathing room opened and Maxwell stepped out wearing trousers and shirtsleeves—much in the same manner he had the morning he’d followed her to Lovat Lane—but this time his hair was wet.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

Katrina, loving the sound of his voice, sank back down and hugged his pillow, rubbing her face back and forth, inhaling his scent. She felt him sit next to her and peeked up at him. “No, but had I known where you were, I’d have joined you,” she said feeling an acute shyness that she’d even uttered the words.

He chuckled and bent over to place a kiss upon her temple. “If I could—” He pressed a few more kisses across her cheeks and forehead—“I’d stay here and make love to you all day long. However, there are a few things I need to attend to today.”

She sat up. “Like what?”

“Well, for one thing, I want to keep up the pretence with Brenner for just a while longer.”

“How do you mean?”

“I must throw him off my scent. I need to make him think I had nothing to do with you leaving the Den.”

“And how will you accomplish this?”

He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll think of something. In the meantime, I have a request.”

Naked, she wiggled out from beneath the covers and sat next to him. “Yes?”

Maxwell groaned and leaned into her, pushing her backwards onto the bed. “God, just look at you.” He kissed her, his lips playing over hers like a master at his instrument. “You little temptress.”

Katrina giggled.

He pulled her to a sitting position. “I want you to promise that you’ll stay in the house—just for today.”

“But where will you be? I won’t be here alone all day long, will I?”

“Of course not. However, I have a few errands to run. I’ll be back by the time breakfast is served. In the meantime, you should probably scoot back to your room. You could sleep for a couple more hours if you wish. I’ll have Simmons let you know when to go down to table.”

She nodded, but he made her assure him verbally. He took her by the hand. “Promise you will do me this one favour? It will ease my mind greatly.”

“I shall.” She smiled.

“Good. Now go—before I ruin all our well laid plans and take you back to bed.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Where in the hell is she, Brenner?” Max demanded. The bastard’s thugs had been waiting for him in the alleys that led to the Den. They’d seized Max and conveyed him directly to Brenner. Now in the presence of the man himself, they still held his arms in an iron grip. Max struggled—not to escape, but as if he were about to murder Brenner with his bare hands. Which sounded entirely too tempting regardless.

Brenner’s eyes narrowed. “Strange, but I was about to ask you that very same question.”

“If you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Heh. I got more protection ‘ere than the Queen in her bedchamber.”

“Goddamn it, Brenner! What have you done with Katrina?”

“Now, Court. Could it be that you managed to crawl between those nearly impenetrable thighs of ‘ers and now think you have some sort o’ claim on the chit? I must say, she’s a fine ride, but I can find a dozen other women much more obliging than Miss Katrina—and who are far less costly to bed.”

Good God
. Max’s stomach dropped. He recalled the conversation he’d had with Katrina about Brenner and how he’d sold almost everything she had possessed that was of value. The bastard must have taken her virginity as well. How else could she have been initiated into this rabble?

“There. You see? Logic wins out over libido eight out o’ ten times.” Brenner smirked. “I’ll make you a deal. You tell me what you know, and I’ll tell you what I know. And together we’ll find our little runaway and bring ‘er back.”

Max still detected a hit of mistrust, but went along with what was offered. “All right.” He relaxed his stance, and with Brenner’s permission, the thugs released him. “The last time I saw her was before I took you to White’s. I came back and most of her possessions were gone. I set out to find her but was unsuccessful.”

The thief fisted his hands. “It’s that boy. She’s gone to find him.” Brenner suddenly seemed convinced of Katrina’s motive.

“Who?”

“Jimmy Lock, that’s who. I knew they were chummy—”

“What do you mean?”

“She won’t find him… Alive, anyway.”

His two thugs chuckled.

“How do you know he’s dead?”

“Never mind ‘ow I know.” He turned to his men. “Go an’ search both sides of the Thames—at least three miles up and down. Upturn every lean-to, every ‘ovel—in every slum and shanty. Do whatever it takes to find ‘er.”

As Max watched the men leave, he decided to send the bastard’s thoughts in another false direction. “I’m not sure she’s one to go that route. I think you and I should search the local whore houses—the ones that cater to a more…
upper-
class clientele.” He turned a gaze on Brenner that he hoped looked convincing. “That’s where I think she’d hide, not cowering in some shed.” Max could practically hear the rusty wheels grinding away in the scurf’s head.

“Hm. You’re onto somethin’ there. Besides, after my take at White’s I could use some…
recreation
.”

Despite Brenner’s casual stance, Max detected that the thief remained guarded—and rightly so. What kind of thief would he be if he trusted a stranger with such unreservedness? “Had a fine time of it, then?”

“Better than fair. An’ I did pretty well at the tables, if I do say so.”

“Good show.” Max smiled wondering which one of his friends had emptied his pockets on account of this charlatan. “I will make arrangements for you to visit Madame Dubois’ Salon tonight.”

“You know Madame Dubois?” Brenner asked incredulously, eyeing Max with something akin to suspicious disbelief.

“Doesn’t
every
gentleman?”

* * * *

Max arrived in the breakfast room just as Simmons was helping Katrina into her seat.

“I’ve hired a maid for you, Miss Harwood. A Mrs Dillard. She came with excellent references.”

“Thank you, Simmons.” She turned a dazzling smile on Max that caused his heart to jump.

Recovering from the lightning bolt of joy, he spoke to the butler, “Simmons, I’d like you to ask Susanna and Charles to dine with Miss Harwood and me tonight.”

“Of course, sir. Hors d’oeuvres at seven, supper will be served at eight.”

“Simmons, you are unsurpassed at your profession.”

The butler bowed and departed.

Katrina’s soft voice drew his attention from the butler’s retreating form, “I should probably take a tray in my room.”

Max couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Whatever for?”

Her shoulders seemed to slump forward, all the sparkle disappearing from her eyes. “Maxwell, I highly doubt it would be prudent for
Lord Charles Kendrick
, who aspires to be a judge, to dine with a thief.”

No, he wouldn’t allow her to think she wasn’t worthy of such elevated company. “
Former
thief. And besides, when he hears our plan to bring in Brenner and his affiliates, I’m sure he’ll not only find the conversation of interest, but he’ll take an instant liking to you as well.”

“I’m not at all convinced of that. However,” she brightened slightly, “I’d love to see Susanna again.”

“Then it’s settled.” He’d have to let Susanna know that Katrina was in need of feeling as though she belonged here with them. Because she certainly did.

One of the staff entered and served first Katrina then him.

“How did you pass the morning?” he asked, looking to lighten her mood.

“After a hot soak—”

“Your favourite.” Max grinned.

“Yes.” He observed a blush kiss her cheeks then she continued, “I took your advice and wandered around in your library.”

“And?”

“You’ve quite the collection.”

The server quit the room.

“Found it more interesting than the silver, I take it?” Max teased.

He watched a barrage of emotions pass over her features. She finally pinned him with a sly, astute stare. “You’re lucky you caught me when you did. Otherwise we’d be eating with our hands right about now.”

Her stinging humour cost him a burst of laughter. “You little minx. I’ve a mind to put you over my knee right here and now.”

Katrina briefly glanced over to the door through which Simmons had taken his leave then turned her gaze back to Max. She narrowed her cat-like eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I will. The very second I have a lock put on that door.”

Her eyes blazed to life and he watched a visible shiver bolt through her.

She was the one—absolutely, unequivocally, beyond a shadow of a doubt—
the
one.

“However, I regret that our naughty little scenario will have to wait until later.” It was imperative that he go visit the Madame and set the stage for Brenner tonight.

“Then I suppose I’m stuck with my book.”

“For now.”

“Where are you off to, then?”

He’d have to tell her later. If he knew her at all, she would probably insist upon joining him at Madame Dubois’. “The locksmith.”