The Third Circle

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The Third Circle Page 12

by Amanda Quick


  He gave her a searching look. “What other source?”

  “One can draw enormous energy from the violent aspect of one’s nature.”

  His jaw tightened. “Yes, of course.”

  “We all possess a capacity for violence,” she said gently. “Part of what defines us as civilized beings is our capacity to control it. I assure you, you were very much in control of that element of yourself the other night. I knew that at the time. It was why I was not afraid of you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I felt your fear. Do not pretend that you were not afraid of me.”

  “Listen to me closely, Mr. Ware.” She touched the side of his face and fixed him with all the steady determination at her command. “What you felt was my fear that I might not be able to save you.”

  He said nothing, just stood there in the shadows, regarding her as though he had never seen her before in his life.

  Suddenly conscious of the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, she dropped her hand, drew herself up and straightened her shoulders. “I would remind you that I am a professional, sir. I am well aware that my particular expertise is not highly regarded within the Arcane Society. Nevertheless, when it comes to crystals, I am the expert.”

  “If you had not gained control of the crystal, matters would have ended very differently.”

  “I will allow that the situation was somewhat precarious for a short time,” she said. “You are the most powerful client I have ever channeled. For a few minutes there in the carriage, we were both trapped by the crystal because the currents of your energy were so strong. But I can assure you that had you lost control completely and become the sort of beast you believe yourself to be, the resulting chaos would have had devastating effects. It is quite possible that neither of us would have survived the experience, at least not with our sanity intact.”

  “Are you certain of that?”

  “Trust me when I tell you that the only reason I was able to control the forces we unleashed together in that carriage was that you still had some of your powers of self-mastery.”

  “You think I was in control of my desire for you?” he asked without inflection.

  She might be immune to his hypnotic talents, she thought, but every time he employed the word desire, she was in danger of becoming entranced.

  “I suggest we change the subject,” she said lightly. “There is absolutely no reason to spend another moment discussing what occurred between us in the carriage. There is certainly no need for an apology on your part, and you must not feel any guilt in the matter. It is not as if I were some innocent young lady who sustained a violent shock to her sensibilities.”

  “I see.”

  She thought she detected an odd note in his voice, but she could not be certain. He sounded as though he might be trying to suppress some strong emotion. Evidently his sense of guilt was quite overwhelming. She tried to think of some other reassuring words.

  “As I keep telling you, I am a professional,” she said smoothly.

  “I see,” he repeated.

  “In addition I have had some experience with desire.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Two years ago I was engaged to be married. I’m sure I need say no more about the matter other than to assure you that I am a woman of the world when it comes to that sort of thing.” She waved one hand. “You may believe me when I tell you that I never for one moment took your passions personally, as it were. I am well aware that you merely required a focus to help control the hallucinations. It just so happened that I and my crystal were available.”

  “I appreciate your assurances, Madam Professional,” he said.

  For the first time in several minutes, he moved, closing what little distance remained between them. The light angled across his hard face. She saw that he was smiling. So much for being overwhelmed by guilt, she thought, chagrined. An awkward embarrassment swept through her.

  “Well, now that we have dealt with the issue, perhaps we should return to the house,” she said gruffly.

  He caught her chin with the tip of his finger and tipped her head up a little. “There is one remaining problem between us to be discussed.”

  It was hard to breathe normally when she was near him. She had to swallow a couple of times before she could find words.

  “What is it?” she asked warily.

  “I have been free of the effects of the poison for some time now, but I find that my primal desires still appear to be focused entirely on you.”

  She froze. Breathing was suddenly the least of her problems. She could no longer even think.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.

  “Focused on me, you say,” she managed with what she hoped was a professional air.

  “Yes, Miss Hewitt, on you.”

  17

  FURTHERMORE,” Thaddeus continued, in a voice as seductive as moonlight on dark water, "you should know that the reason I found you so perfectly suited to serve as a focus the other night was because I was already attracted to you.”

  “But we had only just met,” she gasped.

  “When it comes to desire, time is not a factor, at least not for a man. I knew I wanted you before we even got out of that damned museum. My greatest regret at that moment was that I might not live long enough to make love to you.”

  A thrilling excitement sparkled through her.

  “Really?” she whispered.

  He examined her face in the pale glow of the gas lamp. “What of you, Leona? Did you feel anything between us?”

  “Yes. Yes, I did,” she said quickly, then hesitated. “But later I told myself that the currents that flowed between us were most likely produced by the danger of the moment. Danger arouses all sorts of dark energy.”

  “I know I was certainly aroused,” he said dryly.

  “I’m sure that the events that we went through together would have induced extreme excitement in even the calmest and most cool-headed individuals.”

  “Individuals like us?”

  She moistened her lips. “Yes.”

  “I suggest we conduct a scientific test to verify your theory.”

  “A test?”

  “Neither of us is facing extreme peril at the moment,” he said. “It strikes me that this would be an excellent time to see if the emotions we both experienced the other night were unique to that situation.”

  “Oh.” She hesitated. “How do you propose to conduct such a test?”

  “I am going to kiss you, Miss Hewitt. If you find that a repulsive thought, tell me now and I will halt the test immediately.”

  “What will your test prove?”

  “If you return my kiss with enthusiasm, we must conclude that some sort of energy exists between us that has nothing to do with facing danger, the effects of Delbridge’s drug or your crystal. In short, Miss Hewitt, if we both enjoy the kiss we will be able to say with certainty that we are attracted to each other.”

  “And if one of us does not enjoy the kiss?” You, for example, she added silently.

  He smiled. “That night when we fled Delbridge’s mansion I seem to recall you insisting on the virtue of positive thinking. I am going to take that advice now.”

  His mouth came down on hers, hot and intoxicating. Her senses sizzled as irresistible currents of sensual energy crackled through her. She was suddenly shivering with sensation, weightless. Desire unfurled within her, sweeping her up into a thrilling vortex. She heard a soft, urgent little sound that was laced with both hunger and demand and knew that it emanated from her own throat.

  Thaddeus uttered a heavy, urgent groan—as though he, too, had been caught off guard by the flashing, flaring energy.

  “I knew it was no hallucination,” he said against her mouth. His lips moved on hers, drugging her. “Tell me you feel the power that flows between us.”

  “Yes.” She closed her fingers very tightly around his broad shoulders, savoring the strength in him. “Oh, yes.”

  He trapped her hea
d in the crook of his other arm and leaned into her, deepening the kiss, forcing her head back.

  There were no words to describe the myriad hues and shades of the currents of light that pulsed in the atmosphere around them. Unlike that last time, when she had engaged in a battle to save Thaddeus from the effects of the poison, tonight there was no need to resist the power of desire. Here in this glass-enclosed jungle she was free to abandon herself to the elemental thrill of passion.

  One by one Thaddeus undid the small hooks that secured the snug bodice of her gown. She wore no corset. When the dress fell open, only the fine lawn of her thin chemise covered her breasts. She might as well have been naked. He lifted his head and looked down.

  “Beautiful,” he breathed.

  His fingers brushed one nipple. Sensations cascaded through her. A deep, delicious, aching tension built.

  Emboldened by the hot, sultry atmosphere of sensuality that enveloped them, she tried to unfasten his coat with eager, trembling fingers. After a few moments of awkward fumbling on her part, he gently captured her fingers.

  “I think I’d better be the one to handle this,” he said, sounding both amused and impatient.

  He broke free of the embrace long enough to shrug out of the garment. When he came back to her she fitted her hands to his waist, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Through the fine linen of his shirt she could feel the heat and sinewy strength of his body. The sense of urgency flowering deep inside her grew more demanding.

  Maintaining his hold on her with one hand, he reached out and turned down the lamp. Now there was only the faint glow of the moon filtering through the leafy canopy to light the tropical world.

  Thaddeus pushed the gown over her hips and down until it pooled around her feet. Then he removed the chemise. The pale light gleamed briefly on the white ruffles of her petticoat. He untied that garment too and let it fall away.

  “I want to see all of you,” he said softly.

  He unfastened her drawers. They landed in a soft heap on top of all of the other discarded clothing.

  For a moment, reality came crashing back. She was nude in front of a man for the first time in her entire life. True, it was very dark, and she doubted that he could see her any better than she could see him. Nevertheless, it was a shocking adventure for which nothing could have fully prepared her. She was about to take a highly significant, possibly quite dangerous step into the unknown.

  The uncertainty that seized her had nothing to do with any maidenly trepidation or hesitation concerning the pleasures of illicit love. She intended to enjoy every moment of that particular aspect of the experience. But there was something else going on, something she did not fully comprehend. Her intuition warned her that, once she had gone down this road with Thaddeus, there would be no turning back.

  “Thaddeus?”

  But he was crouched on one knee in front of her, unbuttoning her high-heeled boots. He removed each with great care. When he was finished he closed his hands around her thighs and kissed the bare skin just above the dark triangle.

  She shivered and shut her eyes against the force of such exquisite intimacy.

  By the time he got back to his feet, she could no longer concentrate on what her intuition was trying to tell her.

  She managed to get his shirt open with trembling fingers. When she splayed her fingers across his bare chest she could feel the crisp hair there. He pulled her tightly to him, crushing her gently against what felt like a solid wall of muscle.

  This time his kiss was slow and intense. She could literally feel him willing her to respond. As if she could do anything else, she thought, curving her arms around his neck.

  When Thaddeus raised his head she could hear his harsh, ragged breathing. He cradled her face in his hands.

  “Tell me again that you are not afraid of me,” he demanded roughly.

  “I do not fear you, Thaddeus,” she said softly. “I have never feared you. Well, perhaps for a moment or two back in Delbridge’s gallery when I saw you standing over the body of that poor woman. But I soon realized that you were not the killer. I hardly think that tiny moment of concern matters, do you?”

  He half laughed, half groaned and silenced her with another scorching kiss.

  “Not at all, my sweet,” he said when he finally lifted his mouth from hers. “I understand why you might have had a few doubts about me at that point. As it happens, I had a few momentary qualms about you, too.”

  “You did?”

  “When I first caught sight of you in your gentleman’s attire, it crossed my mind that you might have been the killer.”

  She was thunderstruck. “Good heavens. Me? You thought I might have killed that woman?”

  “It was just a passing thought.”

  “Good heavens,” she said again. “I had no idea.”

  “Must we talk about this now? I fear a conversation about murder might spoil the romantic atmosphere.”

  “Sorry,” she said quickly.

  His soft laughter flowed around her, ruffling her senses in the most delightful way. She heard the rustle of heavy cloth. When she looked down she saw that he had removed the folded canvas from the workbench and spread it out on the floor.

  “Not a bed of roses,” he said, tugging off his boots. “But it is all I have to offer tonight.”

  “It will do nicely,” she said.

  She stepped onto the canvas sheet. He met her in the middle, barefoot, his shirt hanging open over his trousers. Gently he reached out and cradled in his hand the small crystal pendant she wore. Moonlight glinted darkly on the stone.

  “Who gave you this?” he asked.

  “It was a gift from my mother.”

  “Is it a stone of power, or is it purely decorative?”

  “It has power, but I rarely use it.”

  “I understand,” Thaddeus said. “It is a keepsake.”

  “Yes.”

  He took her into his arms.

  Together they sank down, down, down, until she was lying flat on her back beneath him.

  He loomed over her in the darkness. He stroked her slowly, not just learning the feel of her body but, in some manner she could not explain, laying claim to her. Compelled to respond in kind, she slid her hands under the edge of his shirt and explored the contours of his back. His skin was hot to the touch and slick with perspiration. His scent filled her head and clouded her mind.

  He kissed her throat and found the aching core of sensation between her legs. The shock of his touch there was almost too much for her overwrought senses. She opened her mouth on a small shriek. He silenced her quickly with a kiss and then raised his head.

  “Sound carries in the night,” he warned.

  She could hear the wicked amusement in his voice and was mortified at the thought of bringing the servants running from the house.

  But before she could fret about that possibility, he began to work her gently, reverently, forcing the strange tension inside her to the breaking point.

  Without warning, she shattered in his hands, twisting against him as the release swept through her. She would have screamed this time, heedless of alarming the household. But he was prepared. His mouth closed over hers again, drowning the cry.

  He moved before the tremors had ceased, settling on top of her, guiding himself to her with one hand. He pushed into her, hard and relentless.

  The shock of the invasion brought her back to reality with a jarring thud. He froze, buried deep within her, and looked down at her, braced on his elbows.

  “Why the devil didn’t you tell me that you’ve never done this before?” he demanded. The words sounded half-strangled in his throat.

  She flexed her fingers into his shoulders and adjusted herself cautiously. “Would it have made any difference?”

  He hesitated a few seconds, every muscle as hard as stone. Then, with a low groan, he lowered his head and kissed her throat.

  “No,” he said. “It wouldn’t have made any difference. But I would have
gone about things a bit differently.”

  “I was under the impression that things were going along quite nicely. I suggest you save your complaints until later.”

  “Excellent advice,” he got out between his teeth.

  She held him as he increased the force and tempo of his thrusts. His shoulders got slicker and his breathing harsher. A moment later he sank himself to the hilt one last time, his back curved like a tautly strung bow, and gave himself up to the climax. In the moonlight she caught the flash of his bared teeth and tightly closed eyes. Sparks ignited the tropical atmosphere.

  When it was over he collapsed on top of her, sated and unmoving. She lay quietly beneath him for a long time, looking up into the darkness and listening as his breathing gradually returned to normal.

  Now at last she understood what her intuition had tried to tell her earlier. There was no going back after making love with Thaddeus because in some way she could not explain she was now bound to him—and not merely by the physical bonds generated by passion. Those, with time and willpower, could probably be severed, or at least dramatically reduced. Passion, by all accounts, was a strong but transient force.

  No, the chains that bound her to Thaddeus were of a psychical nature. The basis for the links between them had been established the other night when they had worked the crystal together. Somehow, the physical act of lovemaking had enhanced and strengthened those bonds.

  She did not fully comprehend, but she now knew that, come what may, she would never be free of the connection that bound her to him.

  18

  THE HANDSOME, elegant gentleman was in the alley again tonight, watching her from the fog-shrouded shadows. He thought she hadn’t noticed him. Annie smiled to herself. She had news for him: When you made your living on the streets, you took note of even the smallest details. At least you did if you were smart. The girls who did not learn that lesson early on in their careers did not survive for long.

  She prided herself on being a survivor. Not only that, but, unlike a lot of other girls who abandoned their futures to the gin bottle or an opium pipe, she had plans. Hers were not the impossible dreams that so many of those in her profession clung to: silly fantasies that usually involved some fine gentleman setting a girl up as his mistress and showering her with jewels, fancy gowns and a house of her own.

 

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