Touch Me (11 page)

Consigning his irritating thoughts to the devil, he said, “We can report the break-in to the magistrate tomorrow. In the meantime, you can’t stay here.”

She raised her brows. “Surely you don’t think whoever did this will be back?” Even as she said the words, he could see the realization dawning on her that it was, indeed, a very real possibility.

“I don’t think it can be ruled out. Which means that you—and Baxter and Sophia as well—are coming home with me.”

For several seconds she said nothing, just looked at him with an annoyingly inscrutable expression. Damn it, why couldn’t she be like the other women he knew—predictable and easy to read? She moistened her lips, a gesture that drew his gaze to her gorgeous mouth—a mouth he ached to taste again.

“That is very kind, but—”

He jerked his gaze back up to hers. “No buts. There is ample room for all of you in my cottage, and you’ll be safe there.” He would see to it. Because the thought of anything happening to her, of her being hurt the way Baxter had been, twisted his insides into knots. “Baxter isn’t fully recovered, and even if he were, based on the amount of whiskey he’s tossed back, he’s in no condition to properly protect you. He requires rest. And you…” Reaching out, he lightly grasped her shoulders. “You require someone to watch over you.”

She stilled beneath his hands. For an instant he believed she was going to pull away and he had to fight the urge to tighten his hold. But instead she raised her
chin. “While I’m perfectly capable of, and accustomed to, taking care of myself, I cannot deny I am unnerved by what’s happened. Therefore I accept your offer, with my thanks.” She lifted a single brow. “I must say, for a steward, you’ve proven unusually capable in dealing with this matter.” Her gaze flicked to his boot. “And you’re surprisingly at ease handling that knife.”

He shrugged. “When you work for a wealthy man, you become adept at dispatching hooligans and footpads and the like.”

“I see. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll change my clothes so we can depart. Would you mind sitting with Baxter while I do? I hate to think of him all alone.”

Simon nodded then released her. And was alarmed at how difficult it was to do so. He turned to go, but instead of leaving, he nodded toward the statue. “That’s a beautiful piece.”
That I stood behind and fantasized about you.

“Thank you. It was a gift.”

“From your husband?”

“No. From myself. I saw her in a London shop years ago and had to have her. The beauty and simplicity in her lines, in her pose, captivated me. I couldn’t resist her.”

Simon pulled his gaze from the statue to look at her.
I couldn’t resist her.
“Yes. I understand completely. Baxter and I will await you in the sitting room.” With that, he turned and quickly quit the room, before he gave in to the temptation to yank her into his arms and put out the simmering fire that seemed to crackle beneath his skin.

He strode down the corridor and dragged his hands down his face. Bloody hell! As if the searing attraction he felt toward her wasn’t bad enough, this fierce protectiveness was utter insanity. And it could very well
prove dangerous. She’d lied to him, most recently about the puzzle box. She knew the box had been stolen and she knew where the letter she’d removed from it was. His every instinct should be warning him away from her; instead a small voice in his head insisted there was some reasonable explanation. And that she wasn’t in any way involved in Ridgemoor’s death.

Damn it, and now she’d be staying in his temporary home. Close enough to touch. And, by God, he wanted to touch her,
wanted
her, with a raw ferocity he couldn’t recall ever before experiencing. Their interlude at the hot springs had only served to whet his appetite for her.

He’d offered her a choice. Only now did he realize that by doing so, he may have gained strides in earning her trust, a trust that could lead to her confiding to him the whereabouts of the letter. However, at the time he made the offer, he hadn’t been thinking of his mission. Not at all. No, all he’d thought of was her. What was best for her. How best not to hurt her or involve her in any scandal.

It was the first time he’d ever forgotten his mission. Ever allowed a woman to distract him from his purpose. And the first time since he was a green lad he had so completely lost control of himself and his passions.

Which meant that regardless of whether Genevieve Ralston was guilty of any wrongdoing, she was very dangerous indeed.

G
ENEVIEVE
paced her bedchamber in Simon’s cottage. A low-burning fire in the hearth warmed the small but comfortable room, and the bed, with its forest-green counterpane and trio of pillows looked cozy and inviting. Baxter was settled in another bedchamber, asleep seconds after his head touched the pillow. Sophia, initially unhappy at the change of environment and completely disdainful of Beauty, now lay curled up in a drowsy ball on the hearthrug, allowing the fire’s warmth to worship her. There wasn’t a single reason for Genevieve not to slip beneath the covers and go to sleep.

No reason except the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through her mind in regard to tonight’s break-in and its ramifications. And in regard to Simon Cooper.

She’d paced the length of the room for the past two hours, trying to make sense of tonight’s events. Yet all her pacing had only resulted in a plethora of unanswered questions. She’d initially considered the break-in to be a further threat against Charles Brightmore, but she’d discarded that idea the instant she’d discovered the alabaster box missing. Richard’s note had stated he would come for the box. Had he visited the cottage tonight—or had he sent someone in his place? But surely Richard wouldn’t have hurt Baxter. Perhaps he
hadn’t realized it was him—although who else would her former lover have thought would be in her house? Then again, she hadn’t believed Richard capable of hurting
her
the way he had, and she’d been proven profoundly wrong about that.

If the intruder was someone acting on Richard’s behalf, that meant Richard hadn’t wanted to see her. Had he suspected she’d intended to confront him, force him to utter the words he’d been too cowardly to say to her face? Or had Richard himself come to her bedchamber under the cover of darkness to regain the puzzle box and the letter hidden inside? Her instincts told her no. Richard had proven himself too weak to do something as violent as strike someone—especially a man who outweighed him by at least five stone. And he’d made it perfectly clear he no longer desired her. Therefore why risk encountering her in her bedchamber? Unless he’d been spying on her and knew she’d left the house.

The questions that had plagued her since she’d received the box once again drifted through her mind. Why had Richard sent it to her? What was the significance of the letter she’d found hidden inside? Richard was a powerful man, a growing force in politics. The letter was obviously very important to him, enough that he’d entrusted it to her for safekeeping. Why?

The more she thought on the matter, the more convinced she was that Richard himself wasn’t the intruder. And that led to the question—was the culprit acting for Richard, or against him? Richard had written that she was the only one he could trust. Were the puzzle box and the letter hidden inside important to someone other than him? Were they important enough that a man would be attacked and her home ransacked? And would the
intruder be back when he realized that although he’d stolen the box, he hadn’t found the letter?

She experienced a small thrill of triumph over that, but then quickly sobered. Perhaps it would have been better if the letter
had
been found. Anger seethed through her that someone had hurt Baxter, had violated her home, her sanctuary and had pawed through her personal possessions. If the letter had been found, then she’d no longer be involved in whatever this madness was and she could simply concentrate on her own life.

Which brought her back to Simon Cooper.

Genevieve paused in her pacing to stare into the flames dancing in the hearth. Dear God, she was consumed with thoughts of him, her body on fire for wanting him. There were reasons why she shouldn’t enter into a liaison with him, but every time her mind listed them, her heart discarded them.

He was a stranger.
Who’d proven himself charming, disarming, witty, generous, and brave. He was a hardworking man—not a bored aristocrat.
She had secrets she couldn’t share.
He hasn’t made any demands or asked you to share anything…except your body.
He’d be leaving Little Longstone in two weeks’ time.
I’m not looking for a long-term arrangement, so why not enjoy him for the short time he’s here?

Why not, indeed?

In the
Ladies’ Guide,
she had advised Today’s Modern Woman that the best way to forget one man, to exorcise him from one’s mind, was to have another man. Although truth be known, except for his connection to the puzzle box, she hadn’t spared Richard a single thought since first laying eyes on Simon.

Simon…

She heaved the sort of gushy, feminine sigh she’d believed herself long past releasing. Their interlude in the springs had opened a door she’d firmly slammed when Richard had left her, one she’d not only planned never to open again, but one she’d never dreamed of having the opportunity to open. Of course, as Simon had pointed out, there was the possibility of scandal should anyone discover their affair. But she knew how to be discreet, and given his concern for the matter, she didn’t doubt he did as well. As for pregnancy, she was well-acquainted with the various methods of preventing it. But given her courses were due to begin in only a few days, she wasn’t concerned on that score.

No, her hesitation all boiled down to one thing. She glanced down at her gloves. At the hot spring, she’d been able to submerge her hands in the water, but here there was nowhere to hide. Thanks to her soak in the warm water and a liberal application of her cream, the ache in her joints right now was minimal. Yet by morning she knew the stiffness and swelling would return. Of course, she didn’t have to spend the entire night in his bed…

It would only take a few hours, in the dark, to put out this fire he’d ignited inside her, an inferno that was consuming her. Rather than sating her, her earlier climax had only served to further fuel her hunger. So long as they remained in darkness, she could keep her hands hidden. And they could enjoy each other for the short time he was here. She never thought she’d have the opportunity to be with a man again, never believed that any man would desire her again. The fact that Simon did, and that she wanted him so badly…it was a temptation she simply couldn’t resist.

Thus resolved, she quietly left her room and walked down the corridor, halting in front of the door leading to Simon’s bedchamber. Was he asleep? Or was he, like her, restless and aroused and consumed with desire.

Only one way to find out,
her inner voice urged her.

She debated knocking, but instead slowly turned the brass handle. The door silently opened and she slipped inside, closing the oak panel then turning the key in the lock. No fire burned in the grate and the curtains were drawn, cloaking the room in deep shadows. The room was cool from the lack of a fire and smelled of Simon—clean, with a hint of sandalwood.

She hesitated, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. And suddenly she saw him, or rather the shadowy outline of him, rising from a chair set before the empty hearth. With her heart pounding she watched him approach. It was so dark she couldn’t make out his features until he halted directly in front of her. Then she saw the desire in his eyes, felt the heat pumping off him. That warmth, the delicious scent of him all but rendered her woozy with yearning.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he said quietly. “You’re certain?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. But I have two requests.”

Simon pulled in a slow, unsteady breath. He’d sat in the dark for the last two hours, watching the fire burn to ashes, wanting her, his body aching for her, willing her to come to him, and more afraid than he cared to admit that she wouldn’t. And now here she was. Bloody hell, it was all he could do not to simply jerk her into his arms and drag her to the floor.

“I’ll do everything I can to grant them,” he said.
Indeed, he couldn’t imagine denying her anything. “Tell me what you want.”

“Darkness.”

He pushed aside his twinge of disappointment. He wanted, very much to see her every movement, each expression, her gorgeous eyes dilated with passion. “Very well, although I’m sorry not to be able to see you better.” Forcing himself to move slowly, he reached out and untied the ribbon from the bottom of her braid then sifted his fingers through her hair. Soft curls spilled over his wrists, releasing the delicate scent of roses. He wrapped silky strands around his fist then brought them to his face to breathe deeply of their floral fragrance. “What is your second request?”

“Earlier tonight you pleasured me. If you’ll recall from your reading of the
Ladies’ Guide
, Today’s Modern Woman should strive to return pleasure when pleasure is given. Therefore, I wish to return the favor and pleasure you.”

She settled her hands on his abdomen and he sucked in a quick breath. Even through his linen shirt her touch set his skin ablaze.

“I don’t believe you’ll find that a difficult task.”

“Perhaps not, but you’ll allow me?”

“My darling Genevieve, you have my permission to take any liberties with my body that you so choose. Far be it for me to contradict the desires of Today’s Modern Woman. Especially when they so precisely match my own.”

“
Any
liberties?”

“Yes.” God, yes.

“Excellent.” Even the darkness couldn’t completely hide the slow smile that curved her lips, speeding up his
already pounding heart. She lightly grasped his wrists and settled his hands at his side. “All you need to do is remain still…and enjoy.”

“Enjoying won’t present any problem, but remaining still…” His words tapered off when she began slowly pulling his shirt from his breeches. “That is going to prove a challenge.”

“I thought you harbored a weakness for challenges.”

“I do, however, there are challenges, and then there are—” This time his words ended on a quick intake of breath as her hands slid beneath the linen to lightly stroke his torso.

“There are what?” she murmured, leaning forward to press her lips to his throat.

“There are…” His muscles jumped beneath her fingers.

“Yes?”

He huffed out a laugh. “I’ve no idea. What was the question?”

Her fingers lightly circled the skin just above the waistband of his breeches. “You’re very easily distracted, Simon.”

“No, I’m not. At least, not usually.” Actually, never. She slipped a single fingertip just beneath his waistband and trailed it across his pelvis. “The problem is that you’re, ah, very distracting.”

“How like a man to blame someone else.”

“I’ll accept blame where needed. However, it’s hardly my fault that you’re so incredibly…” He pulled in another quick breath when her fingers coasted over his nipples.

“So incredibly what?”

“Um…distracting. I think. What were we talking about?”

She laughed softly, and slipped her hands from beneath his shirt, which he didn’t like, but it at least restored a bit of his ability to concentrate. “Raise your arms,” she said.

“Clearly Today’s Modern Woman likes to give orders.”

“Yes, we do. Those who obey are rewarded handsomely.”

“And those who don’t?”

She gently bit his earlobe and he could have sworn his eyes glazed over. “Are dealt with very harshly.”

“I’m certain that’s supposed to be meant as some sort of threat, yet you manage to make
harshly
sound extremely enticing.”

“Good. I want you enticed.”

“Be assured that I am.”

She brushed her pelvis against his erection. “Yes, I can see—and feel—that you are.”

“Entirely your fault, I’m afraid. I’ve been in an almost constant state of arousal since the first time I saw you. It’s become rather a problem.”

“How interesting that where you see a problem, I see only…opportunity. Don’t worry, Simon. I’ve every intention of taking care of that problem for you.”

“I can’t think of a single instance in my entire life when I’ve heard better news.”

“Now raise your arms.”

He obeyed and with a bit of help from him, she pulled his shirt over his head then glided her hands over his chest. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Her sultry tone quickened his pulse and again he obeyed. She bent down then moved to stand behind him. He felt something soft and cool slip over his wrists. Realization hit him and he sucked in a quick breath. “You’re
tying
me?”

“You did say
any
liberties, Simon. I thought since you’d mentioned that particular section in the
Ladies’ Guide,
you’d be intrigued. Are you reneging?”

Her voice was a heated purr next to his ear that shot fiery vibrations to his every cell. He recalled the fantasy she’d inspired the first time he’d seen her, wet and nearly naked in her bedchamber, his imaginings fueled by the words in the
Ladies’ Guide.

“Not reneging,” he assured her.

“Good.” She finished with the ribbon and he gave his hands an experimental tug. Snug, but not tight. Certainly escapable for a man of his experience. Yet he had absolutely no desire to free himself.

She moved to stand in front of him. “For someone who spends most of his time sitting behind a desk poring over ledgers, you are very nicely made,” she murmured.

He opened his mouth to reply, but his words turned into a groan when she pressed her lips to the center of his chest then dragged her open mouth to his nipple. “To what do you attribute your excellent fitness?” she asked, interspersing each word with nipping kisses to his chest, all while her hands gently stroked his skin.

“Horses,” he managed to say. “Ride horses.”

Her tongue drew a lazy circle around his nipple. “So you like to ride.”

“Yes. Actually, I used to think it was one of my favorite things—until I felt your,
ahhhh
, tongue on me.”

“You like my tongue on you?”

“
Like
is an extremely lukewarm word to describe it.”

“Good. Because I liked your tongue on me.”

“Excellent. In case you harbored any doubts, my tongue can’t wait to be on you again.”

“That’s good to know. And quite obvious.” One hand came forward to stroke the length of his erection.