Daring the Duke (27 page)

There was something naked in her gaze, but she pulled away. He wanted to pull her back, but his senses told him to proceed with caution.

She was going to leave England. Sail across the ocean and out of his life.

She was in profile, looking at her dirty fingernails. Dirt smudged her face.

Her dress was tattered; some of the pearls had been ripped off in the confusion. He touched the small pearl necklace at her neck. It had somehow survived.

He wondered if it was hers and if she owned any jewels. He ran a finger down the beads. She was staring at him strangely and it made his blood warm. He reached up and slipped a hand into the hair at the nape of her smooth neck. Her skin beckoned his hands to linger.

"Still intact?" Her voice was slightly breathless.

"Beautiful." But he wasn’t looking at the necklace.

She stared at him for a moment, then touched his face. "You make me want things I can’t have."

He touched his forehead to hers. "What about a hot bath?"

She nibbled her lower lip. "Yes, that would be divine."

He walked to the door and as usual Grimmond was hovering just within sight. He ordered two hot baths, both to be brought to his room.

Audrey stepped into Stephen’s room as the footmen carried the last empty bucket out, closing the door behind. Stephen grasped her hand and slowly pulled her toward him and into his arms.

She rested her head on his chest as he ran his fingers down her spine. It gave her chills and warmed her at the same time.

He tipped her chin up and kissed her. Warmth raced to her toes. She was safe here. For any night with him, she was safe.

Pulling her closer, his warm lips moved over hers again and again.

Warmth, then heat, then a blazing fire whipped through her. She kissed him back with all the passion he had incited. Fingers grazed through her hair and down to the buttons on the back of her dress. He simmered the heat in their kiss and tugged her lips gently between his.

lt was like being wrapped in a moonlit forest.

Stepping away he hooked a finger in the top of her undone gown and pulled. She shivered, not from cold, as his finger and the edges of the gown inched downward, exposing her upper body to his gaze.

He pushed the gown the rest of the way, and it pooled at her feet in a whisper of silk and promised passion.

He removed the rest of her clothes until she stood, clad in only her garters and stockings. And then those too were gone. He stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Beautiful."

And under his hot gaze, she felt it. Emboldened, she stepped forward and undid the buttons on his shirt, pushing it back and over his arms. Her breasts rubbed against his chest as she tugged the shirt down and threw it behind him.

Threading her fingers through the hair sprinkled over his chest, she gave him a leisurely kiss before sliding down his chest and hooking her fingers into the top of his trousers. She undid them and pulled them down, allowing her body to slither down his. She heard his breath catch, and smiled as she slithered back up.

She took his hand and led him to his tub. There was a dutiful sparkle in his eyes, as if to say,
do with me what you will.

And so she did. She pushed him into the tub and leaned over to grab the fresh, cedar-scented soap. Rubbing it across his chest and back, she let her breasts dip into the water, then touch him as she reached over and around him. Working her hands into a massaging motion, she covered his chest as she rained kisses along the side and back of his neck. She felt the shiver go through him and smiled into his hair.

She motioned for him to rise, and he cocked an eyebrow but did so. She dragged the soap down the hard planes of his stomach, down his thigh, and around his left leg. He really was magnificent. And for now, he was hers.

Running the soap back up and around his back, she leaned toward him and heard his breath catch. She ran her hands across the bar of soap, put it down, and touched him with her hands. He gave a low groan as she moved her slippery hands up, down, and around his length. He shuddered and sank into the water. Feeling victorious, she smiled, then lost it as he rose and swept her up.

"Stephen!"

He ignored her cry and plopped her into her own tub. Laughing, she watched as he lifted the soap, a wicked look in his eye.

Her laughter died as soon as he touched her. He lathered his hands and rubbed them over her chest in long, slow swirls, starting at her neck and working down to her breasts. His hand caressed her right breast, and he lightly ran fingers up and around the tip. Her head dropped to the cool edge of the tub, and she watched him through lids gone heavy as he washed both breasts, then replaced his hands with his mouth.

The cool edge of the tub provided some relief as her body automatically arched in response to his tongue. Delicious heat spread through her body, and she gripped the edge of the tub with both hands to seek some relief.

Her body was on fire, and his swirling tongue enflamed her more.

He pulled back and lifted her so that she was standing. Reaching for the soap, he again lathered his hands. He drew his hands along her stomach, pausing for the briefest moment at her scar, then moved around her hips and down her thighs in continuous circular motions. Her body called out for him to stop circling and go straight to the area that needed him most, but he kept circling and grazing.

He washed her off and lathered his hands one last time. Her heart quickened, and she stepped toward him. She saw his smile as he reached for her. And then his hands were on and around her. Clever fingers pretending to clean and massage instead of inflame. He stood and nuzzled the side of her neck as one of those clever fingers slipped inside her. Her legs started to give out, and he pulled her back down into the water, then lifted her out and onto the bed.

Wet limbs tangled together, and she nearly came undone from the intensity of his gaze. He ran a hand over her as if she were made of the finest porcelain, and she pulled him to her unable to bear the emotion pounding between them. Entering in one swift stroke, he whispered something unintelligible into her ear. She grasped him to her and took him over the edge with her as she caught the moonlight in her hand.

They stayed locked together for a long time, Stephen stroking her hair, Audrey stroking his back.

"How did you get the scar on your side?" Stephen asked mildly.

Audrey’s heart quickened from its languid beat. "Would you believe l tumbled down some stairs and hit a fireplace poker?"

He rolled them on their sides, and continued to stroke her hair, not answering.

"You had a nightmare the other night."

She shook her head and picked at the corner of her pillow. "Sometimes that happens." She thought of Stephen’s blond hair matted with blood and shuddered.

"How did you get the scar, Audrey?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I had a partner once. He ran with Flanagan a long time ago." It seemed centuries ago. Another world.

"What happened to him?

"He was very dashing. Women were always trying to lure him into dark corners. One finally succeeded." Her mouth tightened. "I arrived just in time to receive a knife in the side before she shot him. Reprisal for a job he had done in St. Giles against a rival. The rival was another pretty face that hated him and sent his doxy to get rid of the competition.

"l told Johnny never to trust a pretty face. But it’s hard to say that to someone as pretty as Johnny was."

"Did you love him?"

She cocked her head, considering the question.

"He was like the big brother I never had. He was bigger than life. He had a real talent for acting and pulled off a lot of the larger jobs that involved higher society. Therefore, we worked together a lot. But he started to believe he was invincible." She l gave him a pointed stare. "Not unlike you."

"You think that I believe I’m invincible?"

"Aren’t you?"

"No, Audrey. I can be hurt as easily as the next man."

"Ah, but I don’t believe you, Your Grace. You are one of those people to whom everything comes easily Charmed and charming." She looked into his eyes. "I hate you for it, you know."

"Yes, Audrey, I know." His voice was soft and l he continued to stroke her back, not breaking eye contact.

Right before they fell asleep in each other ‘s arms, she had the distinct impression he had just peered into her soul.

Audrey woke to the sweet smell of lilies. She opened her eyes and saw vases of flowers winking at her. Stephen sat on the edge of the bed. "I need to go out. Feel free to use the library or anything else you might find. But don't go outside.

Stay out of the gardens even. They are still looking for you."

He kissed her and left.

An hour later she was meandering through the conservatory, poking plants and smelling the flowers, when a servant knocked on the doorframe.

"Miss, a note arrived for you."

She opened the paper. It was from Travers telling her to meet him immediately at the Green Man. The writing was nearly illegible, and it alarmed her. Travers’s usual handwriting was overly neat. She tapped a finger against the edge. Stephen had told her not to leave, but she hadn’t actually agreed to his dictate.

Twenty minutes later she was dressed as a servant and tiptoeing through the back, carrying a bag of money from her case. She had left her case, hoping to make it back before Stephen and thus avoid any unpleasantness.

A twinge of guilt assailed her, but she pushed it aside. Her sister was still in danger. Freeing her was still the number one priority.

Travers wasn’t sitting in his usual spot. Instead he was up near the front, nervously watching the door. The relief on his face was evident when he spotted her.

"Do you have it?"

He latched on to her wrist. She tried to free herself, but some sort of terror had given him added strength. "No. I don’t."

His grip tightened. "You must get it."

"I don’t know if I can do--"

"I'll kill her! I’ll do it! Bring me that pocket watch, or I’ll do it!" Travers was shaking violently. No one seemed to be paying attention to his raving. The tavern was mostly empty; only a few lone figures were scattered throughout.

Travers ran a hand through his hair and she took advantage of his inattention and freed her wrist, scooting a few feet away from him. He seemed to be hanging on by a thread. "What is going on?"

"He’ll kill us all. But I’ll make sure he kills her first, with you watching."

He pointed at her, hysteria driving his actions. He was breathing heavily and gave a mad laugh. "It’s no use."

This Travers truly frightened her. "What do you mean? What happened?"

"He isn’t pleased. Marston has been sniffing around, asking questions, confiding in friends. Too many people know. You didn’t see his eyes." He nearly whispered. "They were mad. He wanted Marston killed, and Leonard blew the job."

Audrey didn’t think Travers had any right to talk about wild eyes and madness at the moment.

"Who? One of the Hendrix brothers?"

He reached out and grabbed her wrist again. "No, you fool. The Hendrix brothers are nothing."

Fear pulsed through her, leaving her dizzy. Who had he gotten mixed up with? The Hendrix brothers were nothing?

"Oh, God, Travers. What have you done?"

He pushed her arm away. "Nothing. Just go get the watch."

"Let me ask Marston. He can help you."

Travers’s eyes were dead. "No. lf you tell him, your sister dies.
He
knows where she is. He’ll do it if Marston finds out. He’ll kill us all if Marston finds out."

"Let me get Faye. We’ll help you. We’ll leave Marston out of this."

"No. He found out about the watch. Nearly killed me when he found out l was using you to get it. Now he wants the watch as insurance. You have to get it for me."

Audrey wanted to again ask who he was, but Travers had shut down. She left him slumped in the corner, staring at the table. Shaking, she hailed a hack and headed back to Mayfair.

Too upset to follow her normal procedures, she never saw the man in the corner who slipped from the tavern.

She made her way to Flanagan’s. It was a long walk, and she needed to stay alert. Her fragile relationship with Stephen was about to crack. She was going to renege on their agreement and betray him just as she had feared from the start.

She could tell him . . . but Travers’s warnings sounded in her head. He hadn’t been faking it--Travers was frightened, and that terrified her. No, she was going to have to do this one last thing and hope that she could somehow make it up to Stephen. Maybe by rotting in prison.

By the end of the walk she was sweaty, tired, and miserable. She entered Flanagan’s lair without problem, dumped the money bag on his desk, and plopped into a chair.

Flanagan’s brow rose, but he merely spilled the contents of the bag onto his desk. "Leonard’s fled the country again, but talk is that you killed him."

Audrey slouched in the opposite seat. "To be honest, I almost did. He followed me from the city. Said he was under orders to collect your money."

Flanagan tested a coin between his teeth and picked up another. "I wouldn’t send minions after you, Hermes. You might be a right pain in the arse, but you’ve always honored a deal." He pawed through the rest of the coins and notes, then pushed them aside. "Just like I don’t need to test the rest of these or ask for an accounting."