Sinful Kiss (Sinful Ladies of London Book 2)

by Kristi Jun

  Quickly opening the door, he said, “Get out.”

  Once she did, he slammed the door shut and the carriage drove off.

  She felt like the walls were closing in on her, and she truly feared that he might actually fulfill his promise to her.

  CHAPTER 7

  That night, Kate had a difficult time falling asleep.

  When Mr. Roberts discovered Johnathan had spied on her, he was irate. In fact, he insisted on making a visit to confront him. She had to practically beg him not to do so. In the end, he had reluctantly agreed.

  Their flirting the other day flashed in her mind’s eye. The kissing, the touching. and dalliance. The way his hands stroked her nipples and how her body had reacted to his touch.

  Was he even aware what had transpired between them? He acted as if it had never happened. Perhaps it was best to keep it that way.

  She felt foolish for wanting to seek him out before retiring. She didn’t know why, just that she wanted to see him, but she decided against it. What was she going to say to him anyway?

  She tossed and turned for another half an hour. It must be nearly midnight by now. Pulling the thick blanket aside, she walked over to the window, undid the lock, lifted it open, and felt the breeze cool her warm face.

  Looking up, she saw thick clouds, and the moon hidden behind them. Rain. Let it pour for all she cared, as that’s how she felt inside. Soon, she may be facing an unknown witness who apparently saw her murder Ethan. Was this witness someone from her past? Someone seeking revenge?

  Was this a sign that her time in London had expired? Perhaps it was time for her to move on? After all, she was never good at staying in one place. In that instant, she recalled what she had said to Johnathan about a body and the Thames.

  Don’t even think it, she said to herself.

  The truth was, everyone was moving forward with their lives, except her. Amelia was married now, and the girls had a family to call their own. There was nothing keeping her here. So why did Mr. Roberts keep popping up in her mind in the most unhelpful way?

  The few intimate moments they shared wasn’t anything meaningful, at least not to him, she knew this. It was lust, and lust made men do regrettable things. They couldn’t help themselves.

  What was her excuse?

  She didn’t want to think on the matter and complicate things any more than they already were. She crossed her arms to ward off the cold breeze. Her thin nightgown barely kept the chills away, so she pulled the window down, locked it, and went back to bed.

  Thump, thump.

  She froze.

  Her heart jumped in her chest. Thump. There it was again. She looked up at the ceiling. Thump, thump.

  Was someone in the house?

  Surely Johnathan would not break into the house and threaten her. Or worse, kidnap her. Would he do such a thing? She did not discount it from what he said to her today.

  Her instinct told her to go see to the children, to make sure they were all right. But she didn’t want to unnecessarily frighten them. Searching under her pillow, she pulled out the pistol Mr. Roberts had given her and held it firmly in her hand as she quietly listened for several minutes. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She watched for any movement in the room and listened for footfalls in the hallway and above her. When she was satisfied there were none, she let out a long sigh and went back to her bed and sat down. She placed the pistol back where she found it.

  In the silence of the room, the tall sinewy body materialized in her mind without her approval, as images of him stark naked emerged. She closed her eyes, laid on her bed, and felt her pulse quicken as the sinful thoughts played out in her mind.

  She imagined him large, his muscles rippling beneath his attire. If she were to undress him, she’d no doubt see a towering spruce of a man, a Greek-like god ready for action. She ran her hand across her breast, recalling how he had touched her there the other night. Her body had responded to him with such intensity that it had caught her off guard…

  Thump, thump.

  Her eyes shot open at the sound again, but this time it wasn’t coming from upstairs. It was closer. She wondered if Mr. Roberts had heard it too. Quickly she pulled on a night rail, lit a single candle, and opened the door. Peeking out into the dark hallway, she stepped out and quietly closed her door behind her.

  Standing there against her door, she listened again. Nothing. Then she heard footfalls from a distance. She lifted the candle to get a better look at the dark hallway. In the distance, she saw Beatrice holding a stack of books in one hand and a single taper candle in the other.

  “What are you doing still up this late?”

  Bee looked up at her and gave her a faint smile. “I am sorry. I couldn’t sleep.”

  Even in the dimness of the hallway, she saw the sadness in Bee’s brown eyes. That must have been the sound she had heard—Bee dropping the books. “Here let me help you.” She walked over and took two books from the top of the stack Bee was carrying, being careful not to drop them.

  Bee said, “I thought these might help.”

  Kate sighed heavily and looked at the young woman who would soon turn six and one in a month. The sadness was there, and she could see that she clearly missed her mother, as was natural. It had only been a short time since Bee had lost her mother to a fever. “If you want to talk about anything, remember, I am here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you want me to help you carry these upstairs?”

  “No,” she replied. “I think what I have is enough. If you don’t mind returning the two you have in your hand, I would appreciate it.”

  “Of course. Good night, Bee.”

  Bee gave her a faint smile and slowly walked to the end of the hallway and climbed up another set of stairs. These girls were extremely lucky to have found Amelia and Lord Blackthorn to adopt them. However, even their love, at times, wasn’t enough. They missed their mother, and she surmised they would continue to miss her for a long time.

  Kate exhaled, somewhat relieved it was Bee who had been dropping her books and making all that noise. She twisted the knob and opened the door to go back to bed when she heard Mr. Roberts’s door open. He was standing there wearing nothing but a pantaloon loosely tied about his waist.

  She should look away, but she couldn’t. Her eyes were transfixed on his smooth torso and the playful curls that disappeared underneath his pantaloons.

  “I heard noises. Is everything all right?” he asked, stepping out into the hallway.

  “Yes, I was speaking with Bee. She went to the library to borrow some books.”

  “I suppose we are all suffering from lack of sleep theses days,” he replied.

  For several seconds they stood there looking at each other. His eyes dropped to her bosom and her stomach tightened with excitement. It didn’t help that she had been thinking about him in her room just a few minutes ago.

  Her eyes were fixed on his broad, sinewy chest, and she was paralyzed for a few seconds. If there were words to describe this beautiful man, she couldn’t think of them right now.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said to me the other day.”

  “Oh?” she said, gulping. Her eyes were fixed on his broad shoulders, which were sculpted bronze by the candlelight. He pulled her inside of his room and quietly closed the door, and she didn’t resist.

  It was when he closed the door that she blinked back to reality. Didn’t he realize this was indiscreet? Granted, this wasn’t the first time she’d seen a man half nude, not to mention a delectable one at that, but being alone with him in his room was not a good idea right now.

  “Are you blushing?” he said with a smile. “I assume this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a man shirtless.”

  She bit her lip.

  “I rather like you like this,” he said. “Blushing and discomfited.”

  “I am not blushing,” she hissed, putting the books down on the night table near his bed. The bed that he slept in. The bed she should
n’t be looking at because it was making her think of all sorts of ungodly thoughts.

  Their eyes locked.

  He approached.

  She didn’t resist.

  She knew what he would do if she didn’t protest. It was in his dark eyes, and her heart lurched wildly. She wouldn’t stop him, not this time.

  Not tonight. She took a step back and felt the wooden door against her back. He leaned in and kissed her. Gently at first, then deeper, almost hungrily, and kindling the hunger that had been buried deep within her. Oh God, what was this man doing to her? She was coming undone. His hands wove in and out, touching her everywhere, and she welcomed it.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he whispered in her ear.

  His velvety mouth was laced with scotch and his tongue played inside her mouth like a dance, exploring her. He pressed firmly on her, her breasts crushing against his firm chest.

  Never in her life had she had the need to be wanted by anyone. He offered her kisses on her neck before his hot lips moved up to whisper in her ear. “I want you.” His hands slipped around the curves of her buttocks and pressed her hard against him. “Does that not convince you?” he said, looking into her eyes.

  She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. What was he doing to her? Her hands wrapped around the thick column of his neck and he carried her to the bed.

  Then it happened—the damn dog.

  Bark, bark, bark.

  She buried her face in his neck and breathed hard, her chest rising and falling.

  “He is going to wake the house,” she finally said.

  “Don’t move,” he said, his breathing ragged. “I will be back.”

  For nearly ten minutes, she sat there trying not to allow the wonderful moment to pass. As each minute ticked by, her thoughts started to wander. What are you doing? a voice inside her head said. Was this going to be a onetime dalliance? They couldn’t possibly have a future together.

  The thought didn’t comfort her.

  Not in the least.

  And, with that, the moment passed.

  What in the world was she doing with him? She was in a man’s room that she hardly knew having a liaison that she would certainly regret later. This was an impossible situation they were in. He was the police who apprehended people like her.

  She chuckled at the absurdity.

  By the time he returned, she concluded that they would both regret this later and muddle their situation further. As much as she wanted him, her life had enough complication. She sat up and moved away from the bed and pulled her nightgown on.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “The mutt was barking at the twig tapping on the French door downstairs. It’s pouring down pretty bad outside.”

  The moment had passed for him too. She saw it in his gesture. She cleared her throat, straightened, and pulled her night rail tightly around her. “I bid you good night then.” She started for the door when she heard him speak.

  “Wait.”

  She faced him. “Yes.”

  “About earlier…?”

  His gaze locked with hers, but he didn’t say a word. For a moment, she thought he’d kiss her again, but he didn’t move an inch.

  “Yes?” she said, breaking the silence.

  He ran his hands through his thick hair and breathed hard, as if he was frustrated. “I have been thinking about what you said to me the other day.”

  “What did I say?”

  “This witness…”

  “What about the witness?”

  “This mystery man is traveling across the Atlantic Ocean to identify you as the murderer.”

  “And?”

  “It occurred to me he really had nothing to gain by doing this, unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless this witness knows you. Maybe someone from your past?”

  “I thought of that too.”

  “Either Mr. Hawk is paying him a lot of money or this witness wants something.”

  “I don’t believe Johnathan would pay anyone to travel here.”

  “Why not?” he said. “He came here and threatened to drag you back to Boston with him, didn’t he?”

  His eyes lowered to her bosom and a spark of lust brewed in them. Men were base and no better than an animal. Granted this animal made her want to strip her clothes off and make love to him. However, that would not do, not with this man. There was something about him that pulled at her, and she knew that kind of vulnerability would only cause her trouble in the end.

  She cleared her throat and said, “What do you suggest?”

  “I suggest you spend some time and come up with a list of names of who might want to hurt you.” He walked to the door and opened it.

  “How is making a list going to help me with my situation?”

  “We can make a case against this individual.”

  “And what case is that?”

  “That they are both out for revenge, rather than true justice. It might also buy you some time while we investigate the matter.”

  “We?” she noted. “I thought you were only here to keep me safe as a favor to a friend?”

  “Why are you upset?” he observed, as if not understanding why.

  “It’s been a difficult day.”

  “It’s late,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Why don’t we continue with this tomorrow?”

  “Good night,” she said, then left his room. But she couldn’t sleep. She had too many thoughts, too many things running through her mind to sleep.

  CHAPTER 8

  Roberts was bloody irritated the next morning.

  During breakfast, Kate was gratingly polite to him. Then there was a time he had nearly run into her at the hallway. She made no eye contact and tilted her nose up in the air and walked off.

  What bloody hell sort of game was she playing? Whatever it was, he had had enough.

  At about ten, he was told by the housekeeper that Ms. McBride wasn’t feeling well and that she wasn’t to be disturbed all day. So, he made himself useful; he took a drive out to 13 Old Bond Street. He knew the owner, John Jackson, well. They’d boxed together before John made a name for himself and had brawled with the rookery boys in the back alleys when they’d been too stupid to know the troubles they were in.

  He entered the atelier, a large room with several gentlemen practicing their forms. These men paid well to “box” here. To be trained under John. In truth, they were largely unskilled and unproven men paying large sums to be trained by the best.

  “Well, well, well… This is a surprise.”

  Kane fisted his hands at the sound of the familiar voice. Why the bloody hell was he here? Was he spying on him too?

  “Shouldn’t you be escorting Kate to a ball or to some stuffy social function?”

  “Ms. McBride,” he corrected. “And it’s none of your business,” Roberts blurted out.

  “Did you two have a fight?” The American watched Roberts, then added, “I reckon you did from the looks of you.”

  “Get out my way,” Roberts warned.

  “Or what?” he spat. “Why don’t I make it easier for you. Here…” He pointed to his chin. “Go ahead.”

  The bastard was challenging him. Kane Roberts was more than happy to beat the hell out of him for free. He was in the mood for a fight. He pulled off his coat, loosened his cravat and his shirt, and faced him. He didn’t like to be restricted.

  The American did the same and tossed them on the floor.

  Neither took their eyes off each other for a second. The men who had been practicing started to pull away from the center and stood in the periphery of the room to watch the two men battle it out.

  Hawk took the first punch and Kane felt the swishing of his arm extend and retract. Damn he was fast. In that moment, Roberts extended and got him on his chin. The American took several steps back but shook it off.

  Hell, this was going to be a fight he needed today.

  One man shouted f
rom behind him, congratulating him. The two men fought without a foreseeable end and the crowd got louder…

  ~ ~ ~

  The salty wind caressed Harris’s hair, and he took in the ocean air. It felt good to be on the open sea again. Very good, actually.

  The last time he had been out to sea was nearly two decades ago on his ship to the East Indies. This voyage, however, wasn’t for pleasure. It was to tie up loose ends, unfortunately.

  It was a curse being born into a privileged family. His father didn’t believe in indulging his sons. He had to make his own legacy, so he was forced to depart and joined a crew abroad when he’d been seventeen. By the time he was twenty-five, he had his own merchant ship and hunted for treasures and rare jewels as a means to earn extra income. Another decade later, he had three ships. His father had been very proud of him and instructed him to return home.

  This tradition, however, was in peril, as his own damn son lacked leadership and hard work. All the boy wanted to do was lounge around, drink expensive spirits, associate himself with the wrong people, and speak about the meaning of his damn, useless life. Now, he was forced to travel to England to remedy the shit his son had gotten them in.

  It was sheer luck that he and the US marshal crossed paths and he discovered that Mr. Hawk was bent on revenge. Now he was on his way to identify Kate—the woman who’d been a thorn in his and his son’s sides for years.

  You are finally going to pay, bitch.

  CHAPTER 9

  The instant she saw Roberts’s face, Kate went to him.

  A man she hadn’t met before assisted Roberts into the foyer. Roberts’s face was bloodied, and his arm was set against his right ribs as if he was protecting them. He limped, his head slightly lowered as if it was too heavy of a burden to look up at her.

  “Bring him here.” She gestured for the men to bring him to the settee by the fireplace.

  “He’s beaten pretty bad,” the gentleman said as he placed him on the settee. Roberts grunted loudly as he was settled there. “The other fellow didn’t look so great either, miss.”