Seduce Me (21 page)

The offending man snaked one hand under the girl’s skirt. “Hold still, Minnie,” he growled. All the men around them cheered.

Esme came to her feet, unsure of what precisely she could do, if anything, but she was feeling rather incensed by the entire
display.

“Enough,” Fielding said, his deep voice carrying across the noisy pub.

The large man didn’t remove his hands from the girl’s body, but he did turn in Fielding’s direction.

“Who the ’ell are you?” the man growled, then came to his feet, dropping poor Minnie onto her bottom.

She scrambled to her feet and slugged the big man in the stomach, then turned to Fielding. “I can take care of myself,” she
said, her voice etched with bitterness.

“Esme, we should leave,” Fielding said as he pulled her close to his side. As he and Esme crossed the crowded pub, he turned
to the oaf. “When the girl says to stop, she means it.” He tossed a small coin purse to Minnie as they left the door.

Once safely inside the brougham, Esme found that despite the chill in the air, her cheeks felt warm. Her hands still shook
with indignation.

“I should never have taken you in there,” he said quietly.

“Fielding,” she said, placing her hand on his knee, “I am unharmed.”

“You shouldn’t have had to witness any of that.”

“Why? Do you believe I am so naive that I’m unaware of how some girls make their living? I can assure you that while I’m an
innocent, as you say, I am not ignorant.”

“I never suggested you were naive or ignorant,” he said defensively.

“Minnie is trying to make as reputable a living as she can by serving those oafs, and they only want to take what she’s not
offering. I feel sorry for her.” She twisted her hands into the folds of her cloak to steady them. “Sorry for the fact that
she’ll probably never know a man’s kindness or gentleness. Every day she has to live with the groping of disgusting men or
risk losing her position.”

He said nothing in response.

“Look at us. I’ve done everything save ravish you myself,” she said quietly. “Yet, you have been able to withstand my temptations.
You are a good man.” Or maybe that wasn’t it at all, the little voice inside her head suggested. Maybe it had little to do
with Fielding’s temperament and everything to do with her appeal. Regardless, she knew he was a good man.

“Although I’m unable to completely ignore your temptation,” he began, “I will not take advantage of you.”

“But—”

“I know you believe it won’t matter. But Esme, you don’t know what you ask of me.”

“I don’t know what you think I’m asking, but it’s certainly not for a commitment,” she said.

“Damnation, woman.” His voice was lined with frustration and something else. Something dangerous. Before she knew what was
happening, he’d pulled her onto his lap and began to kiss her passionately. His lips moved firmly against her own, and she
didn’t care if he was angry or trying to prove a point. She wanted him, plain and simple; it mattered not what excuse he gave
himself.

Desire pooled between her legs as his mouth and tongue moved against her own. She wanted to feel him beneath her. Feel his
desire pressing against her, but her infernal dress was in the way.

He deepened the kiss, locking his fingers in the back of her hair and tugging ever so much. Not painful, but noticeable, firm,
possessive. It only fueled her desire for him. She clamped her fingers into his shoulders and ground herself against him,
needing release.

“Esme,” he whispered. He touched his forehead to hers. “We can’t.” Gently, he placed her on the seat next to him.

She looked away from him, hiding her flaming face. “You are a bastard. Always teasing me then withholding your affection.”

His jaw tensed. “You’re right. I am a bastard. I will fight it no longer. If you decide you still want me, tonight you shall
have me. I’ve tried to protect you, but if you are not concerned, why should I be?”

She said nothing in response.

“Now, though, I must go back in and look for Waters. You’ll be safer in here,” he said.

“You’re going to leave me in here alone?”

“Yes, but only for a moment. I’m going to ask a few questions. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Are you quite certain I can’t come with you?” she asked.

“Stay here, Esme.”

She nodded in the darkness, then closed her eyes when she felt his lips brush her cheek. His speech hadn’t been particularly
romantic; still, she quivered with desire for him. If she had any sense at all, she’d sequester herself from him until this
bloody curse could be broken. But she knew she’d never do that. Part of her questioned whether she’d ever be able to walk
away from him.

What, precisely, was he trying to protect her from? Even if she foolishly fancied herself in love with him, which she didn’t,
then what harm would that cause? People had their hearts broken all the time and survived.

The carriage door opened.

“That was quick,” she said. “Did you already find him?”

“Hello, Miss Worthington.” A match struck, and an unknown man sat across from her lighting his cigar.

Cold fear spread through Esme’s body, slowing her pulse down so that it felt as if warmed molasses were traveling through
her veins. She forced herself to breathe deeply. Fielding would be here soon. She would be safe.

“Who are you, and how do you know who I am?” she asked, hoping she sounded angry rather than terrified.

“They call me the Raven.” He took a drag on his cigar, his lips curling in a devilish smile. Something about that smile looked
strangely familiar, and a deep gnawing bit at her stomach. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

“I have.” She crossed her arms over her chest, partly in an attempt at appearing formidable, but more to hide her trembling.
“Nothing good, mind you,” she said tartly.

His deep chuckle resonated through the carriage.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I want what you want, Miss Worthington.” He leaned forward. “I want Pandora’s box.”

His presence took up so much space in the small carriage, her very breath felt threatened. She shifted in her seat.

“We can make a deal, you and I,” he said, his smooth voice slicing through the darkness.

Though the dimness prevented her from seeing much in the way of details, Esme could clearly see the Raven was a conventionally
handsome man. His chiseled features and silvery-gray hair would certainly make him a desirable companion.

“I’m sure we can find a way that we are both satisfied.” His emphasis on the “s” sounds conjured the image of a slithering
serpent. Perhaps this was how Eve felt in the garden before she took that first bite.

“I will make no such deal with you,” she said.

“Are you so certain?”

“I am.”

His voice softened. “But you don’t even know what I have to offer in exchange.” He took another drag on his cigar, then smiled.

She glared at him.

He grabbed her wrist; his rough grasp pressed the bracelet into her flesh. “What have we here?”

She tried to jerk her hand free, but his grip held firm.

“I see my worthless employees weren’t the only ones who answered Pandora’s siren call.” He tsked his tongue. “Miss Worthington,
I would have expected more restraint on your part.”

Aha, so at least one of the men had returned to the Raven. Not only that, but they’d been honest about the bracelet. She felt
her fear give way to curiosity. Perhaps if she could coax some information out of him about the other two bands, she might
give Fielding the upper hand. Then he’d see how useful she could be.

“How are your men faring with their curses?” she asked. “Have you noticed anything peculiar about their behavior?”

One eyebrow slowly arched; then he smiled. “Curses?” he said slowly. “What is it that you’re afflicted with, Miss Worthington?”
A spark of interest reflected in his gaze.

He might have thought he’d given her nothing, but now she knew that up until this moment the Raven had not sought the box
because of the rumored powers within it. “Oh, you didn’t know.” She chuckled. “So I don’t suppose you know about the second
curse either. Pity. Tell me, why is it that you seek this box?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It is a client, not I, who wants the artifact. Now, about that deal.”

She scoffed to hide her glee. He couldn’t fool her. There was no client. Or if there had been, now that the Raven knew about
the curses, he would have no intention of fulfilling his end of the bargain. That’s how the villain’s plan always played out
in her adventure novels. “Nothing
you
could offer would possibly interest me.”

“I can be awfully persuasive, Miss Worthington.” His tone was low and dark.

It occurred to her that she might be playing cornered mouse to his clever cat. A drop of perspiration slid down the center
of her spine. “And I can be equally stubborn.” She feigned bravery.

He laughed heartily. “You are a charming woman. Very much like your aunt.”

As if he’d reached across and squeezed her throat, Esme’s windpipe seemed to close. She eyed the door, wishing Fielding would
burst in.

“What do you know of my aunt?” she whispered.

“I know plenty.” He exhaled slowly, the smoke from his cigar curling toward her. “She favors an upstairs corner at the Guildhall
Library every Tuesday. And she excels in conversation, though I find talking with her can become tiresome. She does like to
prattle on.”

Oh, God
. Esme fought the urge to flee, but she needed to hear what else he had to say, what else he knew about Thea. She clamped
her hands to the edge of the carriage bench, anchoring herself down.

“You stay away from her,” Esme said through gritted teeth, knowing full well her threat would not be taken seriously. Still,
she’d needed to say the words, and if it came down to it, she’d find a way to protect Thea.

Again he chuckled, but his mirth was short-lived. “Perhaps now you will see my way of things, Miss Worthington. The box in
exchange for your aunt’s safety. Things could become quite messy from here on out.”

He trailed one finger over her wrist.

She shivered with revulsion.

“It’s better not to fight me. The box will be mine; it’s merely a matter of time.” He grabbed her hand again, but this time
he pressed a kiss to her palm. “I lost something once. I’ve never made that mistake again. Suffice it to say, I always get
what I want.” Then he opened the door and stepped out of the carriage.

Fielding had said he wouldn’t be long, but she could not wait for him any longer. Especially with the Raven skulking about.
Glancing down both sides of the street to ensure the nasty man was gone, she stepped from the carriage and darted across the
road. She had to fight her way through a crowd before she was able to step back into the pub.

A large man grabbed her by the waist, his meaty fingers cutting into her flesh. “Back for yours, I see.”

* * *

Fielding rolled his eyes when Esme stepped into the pub. His annoyance swiftly changed to anger as the nasty man who’d fondled
the barmaid pressed his filthy body against Esme. Her frame seemed impossibly small engulfed in the man’s arms. His grubby
hands roamed all over Esme, smashing her breasts and trying to reach beneath her skirt.

She landed a firm kick straight into her offender’s shin, which doubled him over in pain.

“How dare you, sir,” she said indignantly.

The man reached for her again just as Fielding finally made it to her side. Fielding punched the brute square in the nose.
Blood sprayed from the man’s face. He yelped in pain and reared back to hit Fielding, but before the man could land his blow,
Fielding had knocked his fist hard into his stomach. The oaf fell to his knees.

“You ever touch her again and I’ll kill you.” He turned to Esme. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. I am unharmed.”

But Fielding could tell that wasn’t precisely true. Her eyes were glassy with fear. He draped one arm over her shoulders and
led her outside. He shouldn’t have left her alone. Shouldn’t have even brought her with him. They were halfway across the
street before he spoke.

“Why didn’t you stay in the carriage?”

“He found me,” she said. “And he knows Thea. Knows where she sits at the library.”

Fielding helped her into the carriage. “Esme, what are you talking about? That man doesn’t know Thea.”

Shakily, she met his glance. Though no tears fell, her moss-colored eyes swam. “The Raven. He came here.” She tapped on her
seat, then looked around the small enclosure as if she still expected him to be inside.

He swore. He’d been a fool. Fielding had been too careful for the Raven to have successfully followed them, but obviously
he too was trying to locate Waters, which was undoubtedly how the Raven had stumbled upon them tonight. How could he have
forgotten how ruthless and cunning his uncle truly was? Fielding squeezed Esme’s hand. He’d gotten careless.

Fielding gave instructions to the driver to take a long and winding trip back to Max’s. Hopefully, they’d lose anyone trying
to discover their hiding place.

“What did he say?” Fielding asked once they were under way.

“He wanted to make a bargain. Said he knew there was a way we, meaning he and I, could both get what we wanted.” She shook
her head. “I don’t see how; it’s not as if we can slice the box in half.” Her brow furrowed. “He threatened Thea’s safety
if I didn’t give the box to him.”

“Did he hurt you?” He ran his hands up and down her arms as if to prove to himself she was unharmed.

“No. Do you think we should leave Max’s house? Do you think he’s found us?”

Fielding shook his head. “No. We’ve been very careful, so it’s unlikely. Besides, if he’d found us he would have made a move,
made his presence known.”

“I want to check on Thea. I need to make certain she’s all right.” She rubbed her wrist and winced.

“He did hurt you.”

“A little. He grabbed me, right at the band.” She shook her head and offered him a small smile. “It’s only a bruise.”

Fielding held her hand up to his chest.