Ravishing in Red (3 page)

Her breath caught. He appeared very dangerous now, in ways that had nothing to do with pistols. His gaze and smile were intended to charm and seduce and he had released something invisible to that end as well.

She doubted any woman would be immune to this man. It was as if his masculinity spoke to her primitive self and her mind had no say in the conversation.

She physically reacted even while she clung to a mental shield. Wicked little arrows of stimulation shot around her body. She valiantly fought to thwart his effect, but those arrows just flashed along their exciting paths, ignoring her ladylike dismay.

“It would be better if you put that gun down,” he said quietly. “We met to be allies, not adversaries. Friends, not enemies.”

He spoke the word
friends
in a velvet voice. She grasped the pistol more firmly.

“Give the gun to me.” He spoke gently, but in a firm command. His eyes reflected confidence that he would have his way on this matter, or on any other that he chose.

In desperate rebellion, she cocked the hammer.

“Two clicks. You do know how to use it.” He scowled. No longer a “friend,” he appeared hard and angry. “You are being foolish. At least point it away from me. It might go off accidentally now.”

“I will use it if I must. Do not test my resolve on that.”

“It is not resolve that I sense in you right now.”

“Then your senses fail you.”

“Where women are concerned, my senses never fail me. Not this sense at least.”

He alluded to those stupid arrows and her breathless fear and the shocking stimulation. He
knew
. Worse, he had actually broached the matter out loud.

He studied her, weighing something. His gaze both lured and frightened her.

That smile again, intended to put her at ease and to flatter without words. “I dare not confide what I have unless I know your role in this. You are an unexpected player.”

“If you are paid, what do you care who hears your story?”

“I doubt you have enough money to buy, even if I were selling.”

She worried that he was correct. Everything about him spoke of the very highest quality. A golden chain arced on his tastefully embroidered waistcoat, no doubt attached to a golden watch. The ten pounds and gold locket hiding in her reticule would not impress such a man.

She may have come all this way, risked molestation and ruin, only to fail because the Domino’s demands were too expensive.

He watched her as if he heard the calculations in her head. “How badly do you want this information? You are so pretty that I may give it to you in exchange for a kiss.”

“A kiss! I am beginning to think that you are a charlatan if you would accept such little payment.”

“You value your kisses so poorly?”

“The value of any kiss is fleeting, no matter what its worth.”

“What a sad moral. Also an untrue one, I hope. The poets say there are some kisses that can sustain a person’s soul forever.”

“The poets are idiots.” This conversation had taken a most peculiar turn.

“I fear you are correct, but I hope not. Hence my offer. My soul tells me that you may be the one woman whose kiss will be of eternal value.”

What ridiculous nonsense. They both knew he was flattering to his own ends, and a kiss was not even the goal. His expression admitted the game even while he shamelessly played it.

She should put him in his place and let him know that she was not some silly woman who swooned and gasped just because a handsome man with stunning eyes and a seductive smile flirted.

Except, despite her mental scolds, she did feel a little light-headed and giddy, if truth be told. She
was
close to gasping. The flattery made her blood hum and sparkle.

“I must find out if you are that woman, of course,” he said. “Since you do not want to trade, I am forced to steal.” His head angled and dipped. His lips brushed hers.

Shock paralyzed her. A thousand flutters beat in her chest. The thrilling little arrows multiplied and aimed through her entire body. Roger had kissed her a few times, and while the kisses had been very nice, the effect had been nothing like this. But then Roger had not been a stranger and the kisses had not been scandalous, dangerous, and deliciously forbidden.

His lips did not just rest on hers. They subtly teased and moved and pressed. A wicked little nip made her heart flip and rise.

A new touch distracted her. Astonished her. A new softness, moist and devilish. Good heavens, the tip of his tongue was tickling the sensitive underside of her lower lip, evoking shivers that cascaded down her body.

Within her daze she felt him gently grasp her wrist. He moved her arm aside so the pistol aimed at the wall to her right.

The weapon no longer separated them or protected her. His grasp controlled her and the weapon, but this kiss interested her much more than the voice of caution in her mind that gave one panicked protest.

He moved closer. Her heart rose to her throat.

His right hand slowly moved around her neck with a stunning caress of physical connection. Careful, but controlling. Warm, but not entirely soft. The sensation of his skin on hers, and the slight roughness of his touch, mesmerized her. His hand evoked wonderful chills, until it cupped her nape. He kissed her again.

Harder this time. More demanding. More aggressive. He toyed with her vulnerability and asserted a dominance that, heaven help her, she did not begin to know how to resist. She no longer even noticed that she was being wicked to permit this, or note that she had inexplicably become stupid. A chaos of pleasurable sensations obscured such sensible thoughts.

His left hand moved and covered hers over the pistol grip. With caressing, careful fingers, he seduced the weapon from her hold.

Her suddenly empty hand caused one thread of sense to reassert itself.

She opened her eyes, literally and metaphorically. What she saw jolted her out of her daze.

The door stood open.
And they were not alone
. Another man stood behind the Domino.

Her seducer stopped the kiss. Frowning, he followed the direction of her distraction and glanced over his shoulder. Alarm crashed through him.

“What the—?”

The intruder saw the pistol and rushed forward. The Domino pivoted and thrust her out of the way. She fell with a thump back in the chair.

A turmoil of movement blurred in front of her. The new man threw himself against the Domino, sending them both onto the floor. Another hand grasped at the gun while they tumbled and grappled in a heap.

A loud crack snapped through the chamber. Then the intruder was up and running, and the dark threshold swallowed him.

 

 

 

 

T
he Domino looked at his arm. Blood oozed through the scorched, torn sleeve of his shirt above his elbow.

“Damnation.”
He jumped to his feet and ran out the door. Audrianna gripped the arms of her chair and fought to calm her hammering heart.

Sounds. Loud ones now. Shouts from below, and cries and screams from nearby chambers.

The Domino strode back into the chamber and shut the door.

“Your arm,” she cried.

“The ball is in the wall, over there.” He pointed to a new dark hole in the plaster beneath the window. “A half inch more, though, and—”

More shouts. Closer now.

He peered down at her. “Are you rational? Collect yourself and do not dare faint on me.”

“I am rational. Only a little breathless and shocked.”

“You brought a loaded pistol with you and cocked the hammer, damn it. You should not be too shocked if it ends up fired.” He lifted her face with a firm hold under her chin, to check her rationality, she assumed, and how close she came to fainting.

“They will be here soon,” he said. “In mere seconds. Do not speak. I will answer the questions.”

Her gaze shot around the chamber. Of course there would be questions. A shot had been fired in this inn, and everyone had heard it.

Confusion rolled toward the door. Voices and heavy steps and excitement. Then, suddenly, silence. The door opened a crack.

“Do not speak,” the Domino commanded again.

The door flew wide to show the innkeeper wearing an expression of worry. Relief replaced it, then anger. Behind him a thick collection of faces angled to see into the room too.

“No one is dead,” the innkeeper announced over his shoulder. While that news spread down the corridor, he stepped inside the chamber and folded his arms. He eyed the wound on one guest’s arm, then the chair where Audrianna sat, then the pistol still on the floor.

His attention returned to Audrianna. “I knew you were trouble when you arrived. I have a respectable inn here, and I’ll not be—”

“Summerhays! What the hell . . . ?” A new face joined the crush outside the door, a handsome one with blue eyes and waves of very dark hair.

This new man pushed his way past the others until he popped through the threshold. He took in the scene, then shook his head. “Badly done, Summerhays. Badly done.”

Audrianna realized with alarm how this must look. A man and a woman alone in an inn . . . The man wounded by a pistol . . . They all thought she and the Domino were lovers, and there had been a quarrel and that she had shot him!

“You are bleeding, Summerhays,” the new gentleman said. “Did you take a ball?”

She realized that this imposing gentleman was addressing the Domino, not the innkeeper.
Summerhays.
There had been an MP named Summerhays involved in investigating her father. Lord Sebastian Summerhays. He was the brother of the Marquess of Wittonbury, and he had been uncompromising, cruel, and relentless.

But how could he be the Domino? He of all men would know her father was dead and—

She stared at him as the truth sank in.

“The ball is in my wall here.” The innkeeper bent down to examine the damage. “But it was aimed at that arm or worse, that is clear. This woman here no doubt shot at him and he is fortunate she has bad aim.”

The crowd outside the door agreed with that opinion. Voices passed on the news that a woman had tried to shoot her lover. The accusation moved like an echo through the building.

“That is not what happened.” Lord Sebastian tore off what remained of his sleeve and used the remnant to press the large, dark slash on his upper arm. “There was an intruder. A thief. I attempted to defend myself and he rushed at me. In the struggle the pistol went off.”

“That is an unlikely story,” the innkeeper muttered.

“Do you question my word as a gentleman?” Lord Sebastian asked dangerously.

“I’ll not be doing any questioning, sir. I’ll leave that to the magistrate, if you don’t mind. You can tell him about this bold thief who intruded on an occupied room, only to shoot and flee with no money.” The innkeeper treated Audrianna to a glance of disdain. “Will you be wanting us to send to Brighton for a surgeon, sir? Or can this woman here tend that wound sufficient while you wait for the justice of the peace? I’ll be taking your word as a gentleman that you will indeed wait, and not slip away first.”

Lord Sebastian removed the rag and checked his arm. “You have my word. We can deal with this wound. Send up fresh water and clean cloth. Also, the lady will need another chamber for the night, so see to it.”

“The other chambers are taken, and I’ll not be putting others out to accommodate her. Nor do I want her wandering about my property, considering what she has done here. I do not have time to serve as gaoler, so I’ll be leaving that to you, sir. I’ll be taking your word on that too, that you will keep her nearby and see that she remains here until the justice of the peace arrives.”

“So be it, if you insist. Leave now.”

His command came quietly, but with such authority that the innkeeper immediately turned to the door. The bodies there began dispersing, making way.

“You too, Hawkeswell,” Lord Sebastian said. “I require some privacy. I also ask for your discretion, not that I expect the latter to help much. I am sure that you understand.”

“I will gladly give you both. I also have an extra shirt in my baggage. I will have it brought up to you.” He made a little bow to Audrianna, and followed the innkeeper out of the chamber.

L
ord Sebastian closed the door on the curious stragglers who kept peeking around the doorjamb. Then he walked to the fire and examined his wound more closely.

“Why is it so black?” Audrianna asked.

“Hot gunpowder. The ball only grazed me but I am well scorched.” He turned his attention to her. “Your name. I need it now, and do not think to lie to me. The justice of the peace will have it out of you for certain, and I’ll be damned if I will remain unaware of what we are facing here.”

She was too shocked and frightened to lie. “I am Audrianna Kelmsleigh. Horatio Kelmsleigh’s daughter.”

His face fell in surprise.

“I saw a newspaper notice from someone calling himself the Domino and it appeared to be for my father,” she said. “I came instead, to see if this man had information that might clear my father’s name.” It had all sounded so right, so necessary, yesterday. “Why are
you
here?”

“I also saw the notice, and also hoped to speak with this Domino.”

“Why? My father is dead. The world has moved on.”

“I think there is more to it.”

“I do not see how you could learn anything from the Domino if you pretended to be the Domino.”

“My intention was to pretend to be Kelmsleigh. When you assumed I was the Domino, I decided to play along and discover who this unexpected woman was, and what her role might be in the bigger scheme.”

Bigger scheme?