by Rebecca King
“Joe who? From where? What do you want with me, and my father? Where do you think you are going to take me?”
Joe could hear the rising hysteria and hastened to reassure her.
“Look, I know this is all rather odd, but we need you to come with us because we have reason to believe your life is in danger,” he replied reasonably.
Marguerite looked at him. It was on the tip of her tongue to call him a liar but she just couldn’t do it.
“I am someone you can trust, I can tell you that much,” he added persuasively when she didn’t appear convinced.
“I am sure you think so, but I have to question your motives,” she replied. Sensing he was about to interrupt her, she began to tick her objections off her fingers. “Firstly, you have admitted to standing in darkened rooms listening to people’s conversations. Secondly, the Count, whoever he is, clearly has issues with you which go far beyond general annoyance at being interrupted. Thirdly, since you have appeared in my life I have been shot at, kidnapped, assaulted, and now have a very angry Russian, and his friends, chasing me across London. I have to say that you don’t instil much trust in people. Finally, you are clearly keeping secrets because you refuse to provide me with anything but the briefest of details about you yet you expect me to follow you out of this house without question and put my life, my trust, in your hands.”
Joe mentally winced and had to admit she had a point, especially when she reasoned everything out like that. She wasn’t wrong but, without taking her into his confidence, he couldn’t tell her what was going on, or about the Star Elite. How he was to go about getting her out of the house then was anybody’s guess.
“I am trustworthy,” he replied softly, aware of the jangle of horses’ harnesses outside. “I need you to trust me.”
“I can’t,” Marguerite replied. In spite of herself, tears began to fall. She tried to stop them, but they trickled slowly down her cheeks anyway.
Joe’s anger suddenly evaporated beneath at that soulful look she gave him. Muttering a blistering curse beneath his breath he stepped forward and hauled her into his arms.
“Damn it, you have to come with me,” he whispered. “I cannot leave you here to face Sayers alone.”
Whether she had a previous connection to Sayers or not was irrelevant now and he knew it. Whatever she had gotten herself involved in with that man, he would help her out of it and if that meant facing Sayers in her stead then so be it.
“Marguerite,” he murmured several moments later.
When she didn’t answer, he tipped her chin up. The gentle sweep of her lips was like a beacon to him, drawing him closer. The soft brush of her breath wrapped around him, daring him to taste temptation.
The silence of the hallway embraced them and drew them closer. He eased her slowly toward him. She went willingly, not least because his quiet strength gave her the confidence she needed to ignore all of her current worries and fears, and take what she needed right now. She couldn’t quite understand why it was him she appeared to need, or what he could offer her that she couldn’t get from being inside the house by herself. Whatever it was, she couldn’t question it because she knew it couldn’t be denied.
She wanted him. It was as simple as that. And, if the look on his face was anything to go by, he wanted her just as much.
Joe knew it was wrong. Everything screamed at him to stop before it was too late to go back, but his head lowered anyway. He paused for a moment and waited for her to have second thoughts and stop him, but she didn’t. When he could sense nothing but calm acceptance in her and so closed the distance between them and kissed her.
Unlike before, in the Carmichael’s library, this kiss was fierce. A need, unlike anything Joe had experienced before roared through him. Holding her firmly against him, he plundered, driven by the desire pounding through him. He wanted her, needed her, and knew then that he had to have her. Whatever the consequences, to her, to himself, to his job with the Star Elite, he had to kiss her. The fire burning through him refused to be quenched. It overtook everything and demanded complete surrender.
Marguerite clung to him. Her hands clawed at the fine material of his shirt as she returned his kiss. Raw need started to blossom deep inside her that she knew only he could satisfy. She had no idea what it was about him that attracted her; why this man, or why now, but the desperate need to take was so strong she couldn’t resist it. Consequences didn’t exist. In that moment she knew she would go anywhere with this man as long as he could fulfil the ache burning deep within.
“It will be alright,” he murmured as he peppered kisses down her neck and into the hollow at the base of her throat. He had no idea if he was assuring her or himself, but he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that she was.
Marguerite arched her back to allow him greater access when he nuzzled the hollow at the base of her neck. A low moan escaped her. At first, she didn’t realise it had come from her until Joe grabbed the back of her head with a gentle hand and guided her face back up to his.
Their lips locked and ground together. Breaths mated, as hands scoured clothing, desperate to get to the wondrous promise of soft flesh beneath. It wasn’t enough, for either of them.
Suddenly, three rapid knocks echoed around the hallway. It was like a bucket of iced water to the pair of them. Joe lifted his head and looked at the door. At first, his face was hard but then he remembered where they were, and what they had been about to do. Looking down at the woman in his arms regretfully, he slowly released her.
Marguerite felt the sudden rush of passionate need evaporate into the ether so swiftly that at first, her mind couldn’t comprehend that it had actually happened. She had never believed such desire was possible before now, but it did and it had happened with the man now looking just as dumbfounded before her. His consternation made him seem softer somehow, and considerably more approachable than he had ever been before. So much so that she began to look at him with fresh eyes. She knew that she wanted more of this man no matter what the consequences.
She had never been a calculating person, and much preferred to be up front and honest with people. However, when it came to experiencing such wondrous sensations again, she began to plot how she could get him to share it with her again, and as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, that left her in a quandary because if she had any hope of ever achieving that she had to keep him a part of her life. That left her with little choice but to go with him wherever he wanted to take her.
Confused, she frowned at him.
“That wasn’t meant to happen,” Joe began in an attempt to thwart any scolding she might give him.
“I know,” she replied. “I was just about to say that I cannot leave with you.”
She knew immediately that he was going to object, and he did.
“Well, I am not leaving you here, and that is final,” he said flatly. “Neither can I stop because I have people waiting for me.”
“Who?” She demanded. After that kiss, she needed to know as much about him as she could.
“You will find out in good time, but not right now.” Joe sighed. He suspected he was going to have to toss her over his shoulder again and carry her out of the house even though it would cause a spectacle for Sayers if he was watching the house. It would be better to persuade Marguerite to look as though she wanted to leave the house with him, and they were together.
Jesus, can this get any more complicated? Joe sighed when she looked at him with lambent eyes.
“Are you going to walk or do I have to carry you?” he demanded.
Marguerite’s brows lifted at his bluntness. If she didn’t know better, she would think that he was just as shaken by what they had shared as she was. It galled her that she couldn’t ask him, but decided to shake him up a bit, just to see how he would react.
Folding her arms she studied him thoughtfully, blatantly ignoring the second series of knocks on the door beside them.
“Where are we goin
g?”
“To another part of London,” Joe replied.
“Will you help me find my father?”
“Yes, I will,” Joe said firmly and meant it. “I need your help, though.”
Marguerite nodded without even realising that her head was moving. “I have nothing to do with Sayers, the Count.”
“Good, keep it that way,” Joe snapped.
“Do you?” she drawled thoughtfully.
“Do I what?” Joe’s voice was far sharper than he had intended but he made no apology for it. He needed to hold on to something to stop himself from hauling her back into his arms again. He had never met any woman who had challenged him so. It was difficult to know if he should be delighted, or quietly appalled.
“Do you have an acquaintance with Sayers?”
She was watching him closely and saw his brief hesitation.
“Don’t you dare lie to me,” she snapped.
Joe’s brows lifted. “I know of him. While I am not acquainted with him personally, I know of him and his crimes.”
“How? Are you a criminal?” she mused, hating to even think that he might be.
“No, Marguerite. While I cannot tell you what I am right now, I can assure you that I am not a criminal, and certainly don’t belong to Sayers’ gang of cut-throats.”
Marguerite knew from the tone of his voice that he was telling her the truth. Truthfully, she hated the prospect of having to spend any time in the house alone with the corpse. Not only that, but she had to leave the house to go and find the magistrate to then return with him and answer his questions until he was satisfied that she hadn’t been the one to commit murder. If all of that was prevented by her leaving with Joe and his colleagues then she would, but she had a few stipulations of her own.
“How do you plan to protect me?” she murmured.
Joe felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and knew he wasn’t going to like this new, calculating side of her.
“Why?”
“I want to know how you plan to keep me out of Sayers’ clutches,” she replied bluntly.
Joe sighed. “My colleagues and I will take you somewhere safe and keep watch over you until Sayers is behind bars.”
“But I need to find my father,” she protested.
“Well, you can help us by telling us where to look for him,” Joe countered.
“Not good enough,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I insist on coming with you.”
Joe looked at the door. “It isn’t safe,” he argued.
“Well, it isn’t safe for me to stay here, but I am not going to stop in your safe house and wait while you try to find my father.”
Joe snorted. “Are you actually trying to blackmail me?”
Marguerite winced. “No. I am merely telling you that I won’t leave this house without your promise that I can come with you to look for my father.”
Joe contemplated that. He knew they could go on like this all morning. If he was honest, he quite enjoyed trading banter with her and wanted to do it some more. At some other point in time when he could push her and see just how compliant she could be and his colleagues weren’t waiting on the other side of the door.
Joe moved to the door. “Are you coming with me or not?” he asked, making it clear to her that he was going whether she came with him or not. He almost smiled when she seemed to lose some of her bravado and looked warily at him.
“Alright, but I am coming with you when you go to look for my father,” she persisted.
“Fine,” Joe sighed, secretly hiding a grin.
Without thinking, he yanked the door open and froze when he realised who was on the other side of it.
CHAPTER TEN
“Are you alright, my darling?” the Count cried as soon as Joe opened the door.
Marguerite's stomach dropped when she recognised the visitor. He had looked like a ghoul last night at the recital. Today, he looked even worse. If possible his complexion was even paler, and when accompanied with those pale blue eyes of his, stained red with tiny bloodied veins, he looked like a vampire who should be back in his box.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Sayers lifted one arrogant brow and looked at her balefully. “I hope you don’t greet all of your guests like that.”
Marguerite snorted. “I wouldn’t if you were a welcome guest,” she murmured.
Although Sayers heard her, he didn’t pick her up on it. Instead, he focused his attention on Joe and nodded coldly at him. There was a hint of malicious satisfaction in his eyes that Joe knew he wasn’t going to like.
“What do you want?” Joe asked.
Sayers suddenly stepped aside and turned to look at a small, rotund gentleman who thus far had been hidden behind the gangster. Joe knew immediately who the man was, and mentally cursed Sayers for his foresight.
Marguerite looked at the little man in surprise. She had no idea who he was, but dressed in a dapper suit, with large jowls and a scowl on his face, she suspected he was a force to be reckoned with. Unless her first impression of him was wrong, he was also just as arrogant as Sayers.
Although he wasn’t invited in, Sayers sauntered casually into the house and looked about him in much the same was as a man did when studying his empire. It irked Joe because he knew the man was trying to make a point in that he intended it all to be his one day, and Joe was a mere insignificant pest who merely delayed his plans a little.
“We are here to speak with the man of the house, Eustace,” Sayers drawled with a hint of mockery in his voice.
“It isn’t appropriate right now,” Marguerite murmured.
She tried to sound apologetic but knew she didn’t. Sayers and the magistrate exchanged glances as though deciding which one of them would press her to gain entrance and search the house.
“I am Roger Lucas, the magistrate around these parts. When the Count, here, couldn’t get anybody to answer the door last night he became concerned so came to fetch me. I am pleased to see that you are alright, but should like a word with your father if he is around?” The little man glanced at the Count as if to ask if his rehearsed speech was acceptable.
The Count nodded slowly.
“As your fiancé, I was worried about you,” the Count declared. “I still am.”
Marguerite glared at each man in turn. “I am not engaged to you,” she spat. “I am engaged to this man here.”
She immediately fell silent when she realised she couldn’t remember the name Joe had given Sayers last night. It might have been Jeremy, something or other. Rather than get it wrong, she turned to Joe in a silent plea for help.
Joe stepped forward and slid a protective arm around her waist. It silently reassured her that everything would be alright; she just had to stick to the role she needed to play.
With this man by her side, Marguerite didn’t doubt it and turned to face the two visitors with renewed determination to get rid of them as quickly as possible.
“My father doesn’t accept unannounced guests,” Marguerite warned him. “He wasn’t expecting you. I know, because he would have told me you were coming.”
“I arranged to meet with him here this morning,” Sayers persisted, craning his neck to see through the half-open door into the study.
Joe moved to block his view and pointedly closed the door before he returned to Marguerite, and placed a proprietary hand across her waist. Drawing her protectively against his side reassured him that she was safe, and her that she didn’t have to face this man alone. He could feel her physically trembling as she stood beside him but, for the life of him could see no evidence of it on her face as she looked at Sayers.
Good on you, he thought with a hint of pride. He has no idea how worried you are. Keep it that way.
The Count shrugged ineffectually and stepped closer. Marguerite instinctively recoiled before she realised she had just shown him how much he had unnerved her. Squaring her shoulders she stood her ground.
“That
is just it, my dear. You see, when you were accosted from the recital last night, I went to fetch the magistrate. She sent men to find your father. He wasn’t at the recital. In fact, the hostess of the evening couldn’t even remember him arriving in the first place.”
“But he was there,” Marguerite protested. “I should know. I was with him at the time. There is nothing for you to concern yourself about.”
She knew that Sayers was lying and suspected now, with more conviction, that he had something to do with her father’s disappearance.
Given what Joe had said about this man she didn’t doubt it and felt her temper begin to stir. Taking a leaf from Joe’s book, she slowly inhaled a deep breath and forced herself to relax a little so neither Sayers, or the magistrate, had any idea she was upset.
“Well, nobody appears to have seen him. If he is not here either, I am afraid there is a problem. I need to speak with you about the last time you saw him, his behaviour, that kind of thing,” Lucas announced. “We need to take a look around.”
Marguerite suspected there was another, altogether less trustworthy reason for them to want to get into the house and search it – like the body upstairs they knew was there.
“You will not invade this house and search it. There is no reason for you to. I object, and so will my father. Whilst he isn’t here, I can assure you that my father is fine. He was perfectly happy and reasonable this morning. As his daughter, I should know. This is all stuff and nonsense about nothing, so I am afraid you have wasted your time.” She turned a dour look on Sayers. “Both of you,” she added for good measure.
“When was the last time you saw him?” the magistrate persisted.
“I have already told you, this morning.” Her eyes dared Sayers to argue. “Why? What does it have to do with you? I am the man’s daughter and I haven’t reported there to be a problem. I don’t see where my father’s whereabouts are any concern of yours. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“I need to speak with him about something that happened at the shop the other night, that’s all. I have reason to suspect he might have seen something useful to our investigation,” Lucas murmured hesitantly.