Cloaked in Danger

by Jeannie Ruesch

  She snapped her head up. “You said you would help. This is not helping. And John said my father knew the man.”

  “I am trying to make you see this may not be as simple as checking names off a list. Whatever happened to your father was bad enough to make him disappear.”

  “He is not dead.” Her words were adamant, but for the first time, Aria felt a small ripple of unease in her stomach. She stood, her legs shaky. Was she starting to question that herself?

  “I didn’t say he was dead. But how do you know he was forcibly removed? Perhaps he left of his own accord.”

  “How dare you.” Her jaw and her fists clenched as one, while her stomach hardened. “You don’t know the first thing about my father. He is a good man.”

  “I am not saying otherwise.”

  She began to shake. “What you are suggesting—he would not put us through this.”

  “What if he believes this is the only way to keep you safe from harm? Would he then?”

  “No.” She didn’t even have to think about it. It was a ludicrous thought. “He would never do that.”

  Adam stepped forward, placed his hand around her arm, and urged her out from behind the desk. She felt the heat from his fingers seeping into her, moving her toward him. Branding her arm with his warmth, opposite the chill that permeated her body.

  “If he is protecting you,” Adam continued, “you are putting everything in jeopardy. His disappearance may not be what it seems.”

  Anger shot to the surface, and Aria yanked her arm away, met his surprised gaze with fury blazing. As her feelings toward him had been growing, he had begun believing her father might be less than honorable. “I thought you understood what I was doing, why I’m doing this. You said you would help.”

  “I am trying to—”

  “You said you believed me!”

  “I believe you believe that someone is keeping your father from you,” he replied with the calm, pacifying tone that made her want to throw something heavy at him. “But I think we need to be rational and consider all the possibilities here.”

  He was just like Emily. John. Patrick. All trying to get her to see things their way, believe in what they believed. Live their lives. Defy everything that her life with her father had been about.

  She had hoped that Adam saw her. That he accepted her.

  The fact that he didn’t made her heart ache.

  “Are you trying to get me to give up on this? Be a good girl? Behave myself?”

  “I am trying to get you to listen to reason!”

  “And now I’m unreasonable.” She crossed her arms, inhaling deeply, feeling the anger course through her in a welcome rush. Anger was better. Anger hurt less. “Perhaps you’ve finally realized you’re betrothed to a woman you don’t like, one who doesn’t conform to your way of thinking. I’ll never be one of those demure, vapid women in your world.”

  “Putting aside that you just insulted every woman in my family, you must think me one manipulative bastard,” he replied harshly. “I am not that man, Aria.”

  “And my father isn’t the man you are making him out to be. I know him. You don’t. I understand how he thinks, how he works. He would never choose to stay away!” Her words were a shout, and she strode toward the door, intending to leave. “And I’m not about to believe you over years of knowing him. I will never choose you over him.”

  “You don’t know what a man would do for his family.” Adam’s scowl was as fierce as his words. “I do.” He paused, took in a ragged breath. “I understand exactly how far a man can be pushed, and how he can cross boundaries he never thought possible. But you refuse to consider anything else! You’ve concocted this reason to go on the hunt yourself, to keep yourself busy. To avoid facing any other truth, be damned what anyone else has to say.”

  “By all means, do not hold anything back.”

  Suddenly, Adam stepped back, put a hand up. “We need to stop. We’re both upset. It’s been a long night.”

  “No, don’t stop now. Tell me how you really feel. I think I am finally learning what you think of me.”

  “What I think of you?” With a muttered curse, he closed the gap between them, and in seconds, he had trapped her against the door. His arms enveloped her and before she could speak, his mouth descended on hers, landing with an urgency that ignited the flame inside of her with a flash of heat.

  “What I think of you?” he echoed in her ear, before pressing a kiss against that sensitive skin just behind her earlobe. “I think far too much about you, far too often. Everything about you tempts me. You drive me to distraction, woman.”

  She opened her mouth, to argue over something, she wasn’t quite sure, but his lips sank into hers again. The dart of his tongue against her teeth sent shivers of pleasure down her arms and Aria couldn’t quite catch her thoughts any more.

  How had she ever wondered if he would kiss her with the chaste touch of a gentleman?

  There was nothing gentlemanly, nothing chaste, in the need emanating from every inch pressed against her.

  Her hands clung to his arms, as he pressed in closer. The door provided a solid wall behind her and his body molded to hers in a way that pulled a needy sigh from her throat.

  All she knew, all she cared about was the feel of this man against her. His kisses were making her tipsy, and the world had begun to fade away. Her fingers clenched, tightened, as if she could hold on to her faculties. Keep the overwhelming flood of need filling her stomach at bay.

  “Let go,” he urged her. “Let me in.”

  Adam’s hands moved up her arms, over her shoulder, and she moved closer to him, wanting more. His fingers flirted with the collar of her gown, the edging of her chemise, and when a finger slipped underneath, touched the rise of her breast, Aria felt herself straining, greedy for more. Her composure was slipping away like a handful of sand.

  And God how she wanted to let go of the anger, the fear, the uncertainty that had underscored every aspect of her life. She wanted to lose herself, just this once. To let someone else take control.

  She wanted Adam to make her feel alive.

  That thought was clear through the haze. It wasn’t about wanting someone. It was this man. How he made her feel. How he challenged her defenses.

  That he knew how to break them down.

  She sighed, and with that exhale, felt the tension, the stiffness in her body give away to him. She wound her arm around his neck, let her fingers play in the silky strands of his hair, dropped her head back to rest on the door.

  Adam’s hand moved down to caress her breast, his thumb a gentle pressure against her nipple. He pressed a kiss where his fingers had been, and Aria’s breath hitched. She wanted his mouth on her. His skin against hers. The more fluid her limbs became, the stronger he felt around her.

  His hands curved under his arms and without warning, he lifted her up until their eyes were even and her lips were an inch from his. Her legs, trapped in her skirts and heavy from the languidness coursing through her, moved around his hard muscled thighs, holding her closer to him as he walked with her to the desk and set her down.

  “The desk?” Her voice caught. Her heart pounded blood through her veins, making her aware of every inch of her body, every inch that touched his, every inch that didn’t.

  “Do you prefer red velvet and mirrors?” His cheek was rough against hers as he pressed a kiss just below her ear.

  She sucked in a breath as his hand slid under the embroidered hem of her skirt. His fingers ran up against the knitted silk of her underdrawers.

  “My dear Miss Whitney, underdrawers?” he murmured. “Who knew you to be so fashionable. Some circles still consider these risque.”

  “On a dig site,” she managed, even as the caresses of his fingers slowly kneading her knitted silk-covered calf made it imp
ossible to think clearly, “a petticoat would never do. You would have been shocked had we met while on travels. Skirts are ever so impractical.”

  His hand stilled, but he pressed a kiss against her lips. “And what did you wear?”

  She moved her leg slightly, to encourage his continued exploration. “Breeches, of course.”

  Adam groaned. “God, to imagine you in such...” His hand tightened around her leg before moving upward. The two legs of her underdrawers were laced together, tied at the top around her waist, but did nothing to hide the...

  Oh my good Lord in heaven.

  Her thoughts scattered as the heat of his fingertips pressed against the top of her thigh and sent a bolt of heat through her. Her skin burned. Her head felt heavy. “What are...what...”

  His lips took hers in a kiss filled with need, with desire, and at the same time, he fingers lightly ran over that secret part of her that seemed to beg to be touched by him. Just the smallest touch of his sent shockwaves of pleasure through her. As his kiss deepened, his finger slipped just inside her folds.

  She hadn’t known anything could feel so delicious. Unconsciously, her legs opened wider and his fingers moved in, moving over her, inside of her, slowly enough to torture at first until it centered on a small nub. Each time he ran over it, it threatened to break her apart. As her breath quickened, so did his touch.

  Something began to build inside of her, low in her belly, centered in that part of her that melted, became warm and wet. That feeling of need whirled inside, faster and stronger until her hips began to move with his hand, faster and faster.

  His lips pressed light kisses along her neck as her held tilted back, and the combination sent her over of the edge. Her body splintered into a thousand pieces, wave after wave of pleasure overcoming and taking away the entire world, until all the remained was this man and his touch.

  She didn’t know how long they sat there, she on the viscount’s desk, her body open and yielding, and his hand still inside of her. Her breaths came quickly, as though she’d been running across miles, and her heart hammered inside. But she also felt a peace she’d never known.

  Adam straightened and began to slide his finger out, and she murmured her displeasure.

  She pressed against him, slid her hand down his waist, over his thigh. She paused only briefly before running her fingers over his hardness. He put his hand over hers.

  “I want nothing more than to be inside of you right now,” he admitted, “and if we don’t stop right now, I won’t be able to keep myself away.”

  “There are other things,” she said, lifting her face to press a kiss to his neck. She knew she could give him some of the pleasure he’d given her. She moved her hand up to unbutton the front of his breeches, slid her hand inside the open flap until she wrapped her fingers around the hardened length of him. The smoothness surprised her. The drawings in the Kama Sutra hadn’t prepared her for that.

  He let out a groan, threw his head back. “Woman, you will unman me.”

  She slid her hand up the length. “That is rather the point,” she said with another kiss to his exposed neck. His finger, still inside her, moved and liquid warmth spread through her again. He leaned in toward her, captured her lips in a deep kiss even as his hand softly kneaded the juncture at her thighs. She continued her motion, measured, with a stronger pressure every time. As his breath quickened, hitched, she wrapped her fingers tighter around him, moved faster.

  Inside of her, his fingers matched her pace until the heat pulsed in every part of her body. Their breath matched in rhythm. She drove him closer and closer to the edge, while he pressed deeper inside, the pad of his thumb insistently swirling around the nub that built the pressure into a frenzy.

  He let out a half cry, his body lurched, and in that moment, the shockwaves of pleasure coursed through her as well. She held her hand around him tightly as his body let go, felt his hand come around hers with a soft handkerchief, and leaned into him as her body relaxed, became fluid.

  Seconds turned into minutes, and time passed without thought, without worry. Until finally, they slid apart gently, and Adam looked down, a wry grin on his face.

  “I need to straighten myself. If I don’t do it now, I won’t be able to keep myself from you. And the moment we share will not happen here.”

  Her eyes immediately veered upward, to the mirrors that she’d forgotten. In fact, she’d forgotten everything. The room they were in. The ugliness of the man who owned it.

  Why they were there.

  She’d forgotten.

  Her body still heavy with the effects of pleasure, Aria slid from the desk. She ran clammy hands down her skirts, lifted them to check her hair.

  Adam frowned. “Aria? Are you all right? I didn’t mean...I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

  She nodded. “I know.” The world crashed back around her, and the worry, the uncertainty and the anger she’d felt with him moments before tightened her shoulders, until the weight of her world felt that much heavier. He’d taken it away for a few moments, a few beautiful moments when she had let go of it all.

  And now, feeling it again was almost too much to bear.

  “I want to go home.” With that, she turned on her heel.

  She refused to look back. She didn’t want to see his face. She knew that he’d believed that moment had brought her closer. And it had. In that moment when she’d looked into his eyes as her body opened to his, Aria knew she was dangerously close to falling in love.

  And that scared her most of all.

  At the door, she grabbed hold of the doorknob and opened it.

  Then turned her head slightly. Gave a squeak. He stood right next to her. “What are you doing?”

  “Escorting you home,” he replied, as if she were daft for asking. His gaze searched hers, quietly looking for understanding. But he didn’t ask the questions.

  For that, Aria was grateful. She didn’t have any answers.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Why must we attend this?” Aria asked, barely under her breath, as she accompanied Emily down the aisle created by rows of chairs on either side. She glanced at the program that had been shoved in her hand moments before, by a young girl who looked more terrified than excited.

  “The Strathmore musicale and ball is one of the highlights of the season and likely the last thing I’ll be able to attend. And do stop looking so grim, Aria. The family is extraordinarily talented. Last year, their eldest girl performed a sonata with such grace and form—”

  “Wait.” Aria gestured to the last row, determined not to be forced into sitting through an entire performance. “Let’s sit back here.”

  Emily frowned. “The other rows have not been taken. It would be impolite.”

  Aria strode to a chair two from the end and sat. “Here.”

  Emily’s mouth tightened, but not one to create any sort of emotional fuss in public, she acquiesced. “Fine. But when someone comments, what shall I say?”

  Aria gestured at Emily’s protruding belly. “That you are with child, of course, and need quicker access to—”

  “That’s enough. Truly, Aria, I think you say such things just to shock me.”

  Perhaps she did, but it had worked.

  She hadn’t wanted to come here tonight, but Emily wouldn’t have come alone. And all Aria could imagine was her father’s disapproval if she had denied Emily this small request.

  Since she was here, she might as well make use of the time.

  The ballroom had been transformed into an intimate concert hall. Rows of chairs bedecked with chair covers and ribbons lined the floor. A piano and a harp had been placed at the front of the room, surrounded by plants. The room was lit with hundreds of candles and lamps, creating an intimate setting for such a large room.

  Searching the crowd
was pointless. If any of the men on her list were here for this gathering, they would be in the side rooms where card tables had been set—not in here listening to debutantes play Mozart.

  She needed to be in those rooms. Now that Emily was settled, Aria should excuse herself before the performance started.

  Would Lord Merewood attend?

  She hadn’t thought to ask him his plans for this evening when he had his hand up her skirts the previous night. The memory of it heated her cheeks and Aria ducked her head, certain she was as red as a turnip.

  She wasn’t ignorant about sex or even shy about it. At one time, she had lived in Istanbul, one of the many exotic locations she’d traveled to with her father. She’d met a number of “worldly” people, including a sheik old enough to be her grandfather, who had offered her father a tremendous sum to purchase her for his harem.

  Thankfully, she had never found out what that life might have been like for her father had woken her in the middle of the night to leave. He’d feared the man would kidnap Aria.

  But prior to that, Aria had met the women of the harem. And they talked. Making love was as normal a part of their lives as getting dressed, so nothing had been too sacred to discuss openly and in great detail. She’d been fourteen then, merely curious about what love entailed, and she’d gotten quite an earful.

  But none of that had prepared her for the feeling of Adam’s hands on her body. Or the powerful confidence that had coursed through her when he held him.

  Now, even with all they had done, her body wanted something she couldn’t even describe.

  And more than that, she couldn’t stop daydreaming about him, about their future together.

  Which, given his attitude about her search, seemed ridiculous. The fact that she’d forgotten everything in his arms made her want to...well, kick something.

  Preferably him.

  He thought she had concocted a way to keep herself busy. It was rubbish.