Nate’s training kicked in and he managed to make final plans with Foxmoore, all the while trying to merge the man he knew Foxmoore to be with the man now standing before him.
When the earl entered the room, Nate’s stomach had dropped, assuming something had happened to his brother and Foxmoore had been sent to deliver the news. Even though they’d captured Gabe’s blackmailer—Mr. Johnstone, their villainous father’s disgruntled solicitor—Nate feared there might be more to uncover.
Not satisfied they held the final answer, Nate had continued to investigate after Johnstone’s capture. With Lawson’s agreement, he’d assigned a couple of his men to quietly keep guard of his brother and family. After two months of no activity, he’d pulled the men. But the tingle in the back of his mind hadn’t died.
Foxmoore’s revelation of being a closet collector wasn’t entirely unbelievable. The man was far from the debauched rake Gabe had been before finding his way with the help of his wife; Foxmoore’s sister, Elizabeth. In fact, Foxmoore was a well-respected and influential member of parliament. Most surprising was the earl’s consent for time away from his duties to pursue a self-interested pastime.
“I’ll give word I’m looking to acquire some Egyptian artifacts,” the earl suggested. “That should be enough to turn up a few leads. From there I’ll watch for items matching Brodford’s pieces.”
The idea of shirking his duties usually turned Nate’s gut sour. But knowing Foxmoore, the job would be in good hands. Nate slid a quick glance to Lady Annabel, noting how she silently watched their exchange.
He had more pressing matters to keep his attention. He turned back to Foxmoore. There was one more detail he needed to impose upon the man. Something an earl probably wouldn’t understand. Though Nate suspected Foxmoore would respect his reasoning. Either way, it was definitely information Nate didn’t want Lady Annabel privy to.
“Lady Annabel, we will leave you to your school business while we converse with your father.” Nate had no qualms about using the case to remove himself from her presence in order to have a private word with Foxmoore.
She gaped at him, clearly not ready to be ousted from the proceedings. Aware of her stubbornness, he didn’t allow an opportunity for her to invite herself along as he nudged Foxmoore from the parlor. To further hinder her from following, he closed the door behind them.
At the click of the latch, Foxmoore eyed him with a raised brow. “Seems you’ve lost your charm with the ladies if you’ve resorted to scrambling from their sight.”
Clearly Nate’s evasive maneuver hadn’t been lost on Foxmoore. With the string of friendship and family between them, Nate decided to be candid. “Lady Annabel isn’t your typical lady. I’d liken her to a hound with a bone once she becomes set on something . . . if not for the insult to the hound.”
Foxmoore didn’t move or even respond to Nate’s comment. Instead he scrutinized Nate.
Waves of discomfort crashed into him. Maybe he’d been too blunt. Surely Foxmoore understood he’d been jesting. Mostly.
He was about to retract his words when Foxmoore let out a quick laugh. “Finally. Your brother often wondered when you’d meet your match. I’m going to take extreme pleasure in informing him it has finally come to pass.”
Foxmoore continued to chuckle at Nate’s expense. Exactly why, remained a mystery.
“Care to explain what is so humorous?”
“You. Her. The fact you’ve finally found the one woman you can’t seem to charm into seeing everything your way. Hell, even my sister fell for your appeal the moment she met you. Despite being in love with your brother.”
Foxmoore had it only half right. Elizabeth had been and always would be in love with Gabe, but she’d never fallen under any captivating spell Foxmoore mistakenly thought Nate possessed. Knowing the value of pleasing a woman—and how that happiness often transferred back to him—Nate wasn't ashamed to admit he'd used it to his advantage through the years.
It wasn’t his fault charming woman had developed into a pastime for to him.
With Elizabeth it was different. He’d known even before their meeting she’d been marked for his brother. As much as he adored and admired her, mostly for what she’d been willing to sacrifice for Gabe, he’d only felt a brotherly affection for her.
Lady Annabel, on the other hand, was an entirely different barrel of fish.
He somehow lacked the ability to charm her even a little. Which in itself irked him to no end. Combined with how his feelings for her were far from familial, he found little connection between her and his sister-in-law.
All of which he would not be sharing with Foxmoore. Not until he had a chance to decipher the pampered lady for himself. Most specifically, what she’d been doing in the garden with her mystery man.
“Since I’ve never professed to have the ability to charm any and all women, I’m not about to touch Gabe’s unsettling claim. But there is something I’d like for you to not discuss with my brother.”
Foxmoore must have noted the seriousness in Nate’s tone as all traces of mirth left his face. The ton’s respected and proper lord had returned. “Would this have anything to do with the fact your brother and his immediate circle have no knowledge of your illustrious career?”
The man was astute.
“Is there a reason you’ve kept such a significant piece of information from the man who welcomed you into his life and offered you a piece of everything he has?” Foxmoore persisted.
Nate refused to feel guilty over his choice. He’d thought long and hard about his decision when he’d signed on to be a Runner. His by-blow status and proximity in Gabe’s life was enough of a shadow hanging over the dukedom. Gabe had plenty to worry about while he attempted to remove the despicable cloud the Wesbrook ancestors had placed over the family line.
“My silence regarding being a Runner has always been with my brother in mind. A bastard scapegrace as a half-brother is enough for Gabe to deal with. I have no desire to add my very common career to the mix.”
Nate strode along the hall without bothering to see if Foxmoore followed.
When the earl spoke from beyond Nate’s shoulder, he knew the man had taken his cue. “You think he wouldn’t eventually find out? It isn’t as if you’ve been circumspect in your work. Given the glowing detailed list of your accomplishments Lawson provided me, I’m surprised word hasn’t already reached his ears. There has to be more than a few nobles who know of your occupation.”
Glowing? Lawson? Foxmoore must be confused. Despite witnessing the proof, Lawson had never hailed Nate’s abilities. He would rather mention Nate’s arrogance.
Either way, Foxmoore was right. It was only a matter of time before Gabe learned of his true activities while away from Frenton Hall.
Wouldn’t Gabe knowing be better than him thinking I’ve done nothing with my life?
Nate had never felt more fulfillment than when he’d convinced Gabe to allow him to look into the matter of his blackmailer. As much as he’d never been the kind of man who sought his older brother’s approval, the day Gabe had put his trust in him had meant more than all the criminals he’d put away over the years.
Since then, keeping his secret seemed even more deceitful.
Had his dishonesty destroyed the excitement of being a Runner? Whatever it was, the thrill of the chase had vanished. He didn’t feel the pulse of anticipation run through him at the prospect of catching his man.
At least it had until his ‘man’ had become one annoying but fetching woman.
Even if they managed to snare Brodford’s crook posthaste, Nate wasn’t leaving until he cracked the tempting Lady Annabel.
They reached Brodford’s trove of treasures and Nate welcomed the prospect of abandoning Foxmoore to the earl’s droll description of the stolen artifacts—mostly because Nate had no desire
to continue with Foxmoore’s questions concerning Nate’s dishonesty with Gabe.
That was Nate’s battle. One he had a feeling was about to come to a head.
Chapter 13
Anna stalked her way to the stable on a singular mission. To find Nate Frederickson.
Why was the dratted man underfoot when she least wanted him to be, but the moment she desired his presence, he was nowhere to be found?
He was her last chance to learn how Foxmoore planned to track the stolen items. By the time she’d thought herself safe from discovery by Nate and had searched out her father, Foxmoore had already departed. Her father had been no help other than raving about what a great man the earl was. Anna suspected Foxmoore’s wonderfulness had much to do with him sharing her father’s interests and little with the actual man. Not that she’d found anything disagreeable about the earl.
She only hoped her father didn’t concoct some diluted plot in his head about procuring a son-in-law with a mutual pastime. He’d yet to show interest in her marital status but it would be only a matter of time before he would wish to see her provided for.
Not the time to fret over the possibility. She had more important matters to attend to, as she unceremoniously entered the stable and discovered the subject of her quest.
How she found him had her sliding to a halt inside the door.
After days in his unwanted company, she knew beyond a doubt Nate was a handsome man. Blast, she hadn’t needed more than their first meeting to comprehend the simple fact.
However, seeing him minus his jacket with his shirtsleeves rolled up, she found an entirely new dimension of his attractiveness.
Either the noise of the stable drowned out her arrival or he had less manners than she’d thought, for Nate kept to his task of brushing his horse, his back to her, without acknowledging her presence.
Which, at the moment, suited her. It allowed for her to admire the play of muscles in his forearm. Each stroke of the brush over the horse’s coat emphasized a different combination of tighten and release. She followed his arm up and over his shoulder to become fixated on his strong back, framed in the thin linen shirt.
She had shifted her eyes down and over the tautness of his backside when a man, attached to an unknown voice, entered the space. Not prepared to have an audience for her confrontation with Nate, she silently slipped into the shadow of one of the stall doors.
“There are men employed by the earl to see to your horse, Nate.”
“For the moment at least, you are one of those men.” Nate’s response held enough mirth for her to assume a joke had passed between the men.
Through a crack between the stall door and wall, Anna studied the stranger, certain he wasn’t one of her father’s men. Her frequent travels to the school had given her ample opportunities to meet each of the stable hands. He had to be one of Nate’s men.
Nate had positioned Runners throughout the estate, effectively hindering her ability to move freely. She still hadn’t figured out how to meet Mr. Rollins’ latest terms without alerting Nate or his men.
“How exactly would my covert position here be any different than my last three posts? I think I’ve seen to your mount more times than you in the last two months.”
Both men had a good chuckle.
Intent on the conversation, Anna wasn’t prepared for the sudden bang on the wall next to her and barely managed to cover her squeak when the sound vibrated through the stable.
Accustomed to the sounds of the stable, she quickly identified the solid thud as the horse in the next stall kicking the wall. Now if only her rushing heart would comprehend the fact.
Her nerves finally under control, she braved a peek at the men, only to find the space empty where Nate and his horse had stood.
Where has the man gotten to now?
Determined to root Nate out once again, she stepped from behind the door . . . only to be shuffled back against the wall with two sturdy hands clamped on each side of her waist. Hands that mere moments earlier had held her captivated as they’d stroked his horse.
“What are you up to, sneaking around, princess?” There was nothing harsh about Nate’s tone as his breath fanned the top of her head.
She struggled to pull her gaze from the gaping collar of his unfastened shirt. While his back had been to her as he’d tended his horse, she’d missed the clear view of his upper chest. Oh, my. Here she’d thought the rippling of his back had been glorious.
She finally won the battle and raised her eyes to meet his—but not before indulging herself with a slow perusal of the strong cord of his neck, the light sprinkle of hair along his firm jaw, and the confident and enticing bend of his lips.
When she finally ended her inspection, she suspected the heat burning her cheeks was as clear to him as the spark of male satisfaction she spotted in his eyes.
What had he asked again?
Nate had her so flustered she seemed to forget herself. Especially since he didn’t appear inclined to release her.
“Am I to guess?” he asked.
She wanted to answer. She longed to set him straight. Only she’d lost the ability to speak when he punctuated his question with a step closer, eliminating all space between their bodies.
“I rather prefer you speechless.” His eyes left hers and drifted to her mouth. “Maybe I should startle you more often.”
What the hell am I doing?
Whatever it was, Nate knew he shouldn’t be doing it.
He shouldn’t be touching her. He shouldn’t have her delectable body pressed so sweetly against his, leaving her no escape—not that she appeared ready to bolt.
When he and Grant had sensed they were being watched, it had taken only a moment for him to realize Lady Annabel had evolved from clandestine garden meetings to spying. He’d only meant to confront her. Not seduce her.
But since he presently struggled to keep from crushing her lips beneath his in a kiss sure to teach her what happened when a virtuous woman spied on a man who’d spent days envisioning her luscious form under his . . .
Nate was glad he’d had the sense to send Grant from the stable. The last thing he needed was one of his men witnessing his current moment of stupidity.
And it was beyond foolish. But no matter how many times the functioning part of his consciousness told him so, the rest of him refused to listen.
“You haven’t ordered me to release you.” He felt honor bound to inject his observation into the moment. One last chance for her come to her senses, because the far off look in her eyes shouted that she was approaching the point of no return.
“I . . .” Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips—almost bringing him to his knees. “I don’t think I can.”
“I don’t think I want you to.”
Then he sealed his fate as his lips descended over hers.
Chapter 14
The moment Nate’s mouth brushed hers, Anna lost all sense of . . . well, everything.
The shuffle of hooves and the rattle of the stalls vanished beneath the soft pressure of his velvet kiss. His skill apparent, it took no time for her novice lips to match his.
Is this what I’ve been missing? Were all men this accomplished or did Nate possess a special skill to turn a woman’s knees to mush?
Weakened, she had to clutch the curve of his shoulders to keep from falling to the floor in an unceremonious heap. The warmth of his tight muscles through the soft linen beneath her fingers caused her head to spin.
Even knowing she was kissing the Runner who would eventually destroy her future didn’t stop her from opening when his tongue skimmed across her lips.
“You taste like honey,” he murmured against her mouth before he licked delicately across her bottom lip.
What am I doing? The man had just licked he
r and her response was to run her hands up his neck and into the silkiness of his hair, sinking back into his kiss.
At any moment a stable hand—or heaven help her, the stable master who’d watched her grow up—could walk in. She needed to find her wits.
But, oh, his kiss was so . . . intoxicating. And his hands. At some point his strong fingers had started to roam her body and currently resided in the vicinity of her breasts. Creating a tingle better left unexamined.
His lips released hers, brushing along her skin before halting to trail her neck below her ear.
“Nate.”
Is that my voice? All breathless and pleading? Now was not the time to lose her sensibilities. No matter how tempting it might be.
She ignored the intense pull to slip further into his embrace and somehow forced a bit of strength into her voice. “Nate.”
It must have been enough for his lips ceased their caress, but instead of retreating immediately, he released a soft sigh against her skin. A sound equal in accord and regret. All feelings she echoed.
After what seemed all too sudden and yet not fast enough, his lips abandoned her and he took a step back, allowing her to gain control of her rebellious heartbeat and catch her breath.
Until she caught the burning look of desire in his eyes. Fire, darkening the crystal blue with a deep intensity, had her fighting the urge to fall back into his arms.
An act that could never happen. Not while he had the power to destroy everything she’d given so much to see succeed. This man, who had the ability to stir her senses, she must avoid. At all cost.
The Runner's Enticement (Men of Circumstance Book 2) Page 8