Conspiring with a Rogue (28 page)

“
I’d better go change. We’ll be rushed to get across town for you to put on your disguise before Cadogan’s fete. The man despises tardiness.”

She rose as Drake did. “Why do I need to change?”

“
Because, Kitten. Wentworth is the last person Cadogan would ever admit to his home.”

“
I hadn’t thought of that,” she said with a frown. “Who should I be?”

“
How about Jezebel? I highly doubt Cadogan will turn away a woman he wants to bed. Just stay close to me, and don’t allow yourself to be led anywhere alone with him.”

She nodded. What harm could lying to Drake one more time incur? What was the saying? In for a penny, in for a pound? Whatever it took, she was going to find Lillian and get to the bottom of whether Cadogan was responsible for sinking Drake’s ships.

Drake held out his hand to her. “Care to help me undress?”

His husky voice slid over her and left her breathless. She wanted nothing more than to undress him, but it was too soon. “You know I cannot.”

“
If you love Johnnie-boy so much, why haven’t you married him? Why are you running

around pretending to be a man?”

“
It’s none of your business,” she snapped. “That’s between Jonathan and me.”

A deep frown line appeared between Drake’s eyes. He looked as if he was about to argue, but then he shrugged. “Since you won’t tell me anything and you won’t help me undress, you might as well wait here.”

The statement was offered casually, as if he had given up on the subject, but Whitney suspected he had a plan in his mind of how to get the answers he sought from her. When Drake walked out the door, she slumped into the chair and laid her head on the cool wood. Her heart thundered. How was she supposed to control the way she felt about Drake long enough to convince him his seduction of her was costing her greatly? The need to touch him gnawed at her. The idea of seeing him naked made her belly tighten.

She had to guard her heart as best she could. With a groan, she squeezed her eyes shut.

“
By the way…” came Drake’s voice.

Her eyes flew open, and she turned her head to look at him. He stood in the doorway with his shirt dangling in his hand. The other hand grasped the door frame above him, and he leaned forward, the chiseled muscles of his abdomen taut with his stance. Heat instantly infused every part of her body. She wanted him with an ache she was positive would kill her.

“
Don’t snoop in my office.”

“
Of course not,” she managed to say.

“
Good.” With a nod, he was gone as quick as he had appeared. At the slam of his bedroom door, she snatched open his desk drawer and began to rummage. Documents, ink, pen, nothing personal. She was about to shut the drawer but paused at a flash of green ribbon. Her ribbon. Her gut twisted. She ran a finger over the smooth silk of the hair ribbon he had taken after their first kiss. She picked up the rolled parchment bound securely by her ribbon, slipped off the piece of silk, and unrolled the paper.

Her heart fluttered at the sight of the goodbye letter she had written Drake so many months ago. The black ink was blurred. From what? Tears? The flutter in her heart became tremors. She shook everywhere. She had to guard herself against him, but how could she protect herself against the man she knew loved her with all his soul?

Later that night, Drake settled beside Whitney in the carriage with the intention of immediately resuming his earlier seduction. This would be the perfect place for a dalliance. The ride to Cadogan’s home in Cheyne would afford him just enough time to bring her pleasure. Despite what she said, he didn’t doubt he could seduce her back into his bed if he took it one kiss at a time. Her passionate nature would rear its greedy head when he expertly stroked her.

He stretched his legs out as far as the carriage would allow, reached up and rapped on the ceiling to signal the driver to go. The carriage jerked to motion, the wheels crunching through the pea gravel of Whitney’s drive, and then turned steadily against the smoother surface of the road. The Italian lamp jiggled against the outside of the carriage, casting flickering light upon them. When the light glowed steadily once again, Drake turned toward Whitney.

He was surprised to see her wig-encased head resting against the wood of the door panel. The flaming red strands stood in stark contrast to the dark wood. Drake’s fingers twitched with the need to reach out and remove the wig from her head so he could see her blond hair, the color of bright sunshine. Though she looked extremely seductive as the redheaded Jezebel, he preferred her natural state.

Her eyes lay closed, her dark lashes fanned against her painted face. Even with her disguise perfectly in place, dark smudges purpled the skin under her eyes, and the slow rise and fall of her chest under the thin golden silk costume as she breathed deeply in and out spoke measures for her weary state. It must be exhausting playing so many people. A fierce need to protect her rose in him. How irritating that now, after all she had done to him, his natural instinct was still to guard her.

Something about the way she had avoided his earlier question about Jonathan bothered Drake. He could not put his finger on what it was, though. As the carriage rattled along, he considered what he knew—or thought he knew. She had left him for another man, but had come to the Sainted Order to find Lillian. He could understand why she was dressed as a man to do that, but he didn’t understand why she had run away from her home in the first place or why she had started Wentworth Investigations. Why not just tell him she had fallen in love with someone else and stay in York, where she had lived all her life?

She was holding something back from him, but it was obvious she was not going to tell him. Did it even matter for his purposes? He was supposed to be seducing her for revenge and nothing more. All that mattered was that she had left him and then used him when it suited her. Except it was not all that mattered. He nudged her, unable to contain his foolish concerns.

Slowly, she opened her eyes.

“
Why did you run away from York?” he demanded.

Her eyes widened at his question, and her fingers fidgeted with the silk of her costume. “I was ashamed of what I had done. Falling in love with Jonathan when I was betrothed to you.”

That hurt and it should have shut him the hell up, but he felt the need to dig deeper. “Why not just tell me?”

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then pursed them together. “I thought if I disappeared that you would eventually go back to America. I thought it kinder to you. That it would hurt you less.”

Her twisted logic infuriated him. “You thought leaving me a note telling me you loved another man and then disappearing without having the courtesy to talk to me in person would hurt me less?”

She nodded, her fingers clenching into tight fists on her lap. Was she upset? She damn well deserved to be upset. He should leave well enough alone and get on with his seduction. What the hell was the matter with him that he still cared at all? Why did he still want answers? He could not control himself. “And Wentworth Investigations? Why did you start that and decide to parade around as a man?”

She glared at him, releasing her dress and gripping the seat. “I couldn’t very well
parade
around as myself, now, could I? Someone would have seen me, and then Father would have forced me to come back home to you.”

He flinched at her words.

“
I had hoped you would go before I returned, and Wentworth Investigations gave me a way to earn money and stay away until you did. But you’re still here, and then I saw you at the Sainted Order…” She shrugged. “You know the rest. It was selfish and cruel, and I’m sorry.”

Her explanation cut a fiery path of pain straight into his heart. He needed no more answers. Steeling himself against the desire to shield her, he draped his arm over the back of her seat. Her gaze rose to his face, but she did not make a move to scramble away. A deep line creased between her already furrowed brows.

“
Comfortable?” He grasped the end of the bejeweled green silk veil she now clutched in her hand. He pulled the veil slowly out of her grasp and let it flutter in a cloud of emerald to the floor.

“
Why did you do that?” She reached for the veil, but he grasped her hand before she could take hold of the material.

“
I want your hands free.”

She blinked at his statement. “What for?”

“
For touching me.”

“
Drake.” Weariness punctuated the word. This time she did attempt to scoot away. His right hand snaked out and curled around her hip. He slid her toward him, the material of her costume rubbing with a slight swoosh against the carriage seat as he moved her.

“
What are you doing?” She pressed her hand against his leg, but he locked his arm around her hips and held her close against his side. The heat of her body came off her like waves rolling off one of his ships. The desire to touch her, to bury his head against her neck and find a moment of peace wrapped in her heat and scent, pounded through him.

He reached for her hand in her lap and grasped it once again in his. Her fingers curled into his palm, and he exhaled a slow breath. Contentment settled over him, the like of which he had not felt since before she left him. A small voice in his head reminded him he meant to hurt her. That damned annoying voice. He concentrated on making circular patterns over the silky skin of her hand with the pad of his thumb. “I’m seducing you.”

She closed her eyes on a low moan and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m too tired to be seduced.”

He inhaled deeply of her lavender scent. No woman could possibly smell better. “You need not do any work, Kitten. I’ll do it all. You just lay here and enjoy it.”

“
You’re impossible,” she grumbled with a tug on her hand. “I told you what happened between us will never happen again. I love Jonathan.”

He clenched his jaw and slowly traced a path up her arm with his fingers. The effort to hold back made him ache. He moved the tips of his fingers back and forth, savoring the gooseflesh that rose on her skin in response to his touch. The deep red color of desire bloomed on her chest and neck. She may love Jonathan, but she desired
him
. Now to convince her it was somehow all right. “If Jonathan truly loves you, he’ll want you to experience the pleasure he can’t give you.”

She regarded him between slit lids. “If you were in Jonathan’s position, would you want another man giving me the pleasure you could not?”

“
If I knew the woman was pledged to love me forever,” he lied. He moved his fingers higher to her collarbone and ran them side to side. “Lucky for me, I’m not in Johnnie-boy’s position. I’m the wronged man who’s determined to seduce you. You owe me, as far as I can tell. Only your submission will assuage my wounded pride.”

The corners of her mouth tilted up into a mocking smile. “You want me to let you seduce me so you can forget me?”

It was hard to think beyond the pulsing of his groin, but he forced himself to nod. “That about sums it up. Except once I seduce you, you won’t want to go back to Jonathan. And that, Kitten, is how I’ll regain my pride.”

“
Through your amazing display of a sexual prowess that’s so great I will beg you to take me back?”

“
Exactly.” He brushed his lips against the hot skin of her neck. She flinched at his touch but did not pull away. He hesitated. He wanted to hurt her as she had hurt him, but he would never force her. She had to agree, though reluctant agreement would do. “You know you desire me.”

“
I do, but—”

The admission was all he needed. He slanted his mouth over hers, swooping his tongue inside to claim her. Her honeyed taste inflamed his desire as always. He needed to touch her everywhere, taste her everywhere. He kissed her neck, then licked a path to the tiny hollow between her collarbone and neck. Her hand pushed against his shoulders, but as he tugged the material of her gown down with his teeth and his lips found her nipple, her hands pressed him to her instead of shoving him back. He flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin, desire burning through him hot and dangerous. He sucked at the nipple until she bucked underneath him and moans came from her throat.

His own need drove him to his knees and had him shoving her dress up toward her hips. He wanted to taste every part of her. Just as he reached her unmentionables, her hands came over his. “Stop it. This is madness.”