Oh good gracious, she was actually enjoying being close to him? What was going on with her? Perhaps the frigid water had addled her senses, for she’d never wanted to get close to any man before, and especially not Daniel Wolcott, who unsettled her as no other could. Strangely, she’d never felt so safe in anyone’s arms before. But then, Daniel abruptly put her down and stepped away.
“What the devil were you thinking getting back inside the carriage?” he ground out, his anger increasing by the second as, apparently, his relief at both of them reaching safety subsided, and a look of accusation grew in his gaze.
His words reminded her of the reason for her mad dash back into the carriage. “Rosa!” Brianna looked down and felt a huge sense of relief when she saw the satchel still hanging from its strap over her shoulders.
“Rosa?” his voice was dangerously soft.
Ignoring him, she opened the bag. There, staring up at her, was her soaked rag doll. She pulled the toy out and clutched her to her chest. The soak in the water hadn’t softened the doll’s hard center, but nonetheless Bree had always taken such comfort in cuddling the little thing, as she did right then, too.
“You risked both of our necks for a toy?”
“I had to.”
“You had to?” There was a definite sound of incredulity in his words. “We nearly died!”
“Well, we didn’t, did we?” She placed her doll safely back into the soaked leather satchel.
His shadow loomed over her as he grabbed hold of her shoulders, not hard—just for emphasis. “I should wring your bloody neck!”
She pushed against his chest, but he wasn’t budging. “Let me go, you great big oaf!”
“Oaf?” He scowled. “This oaf just saved your life, you little fool!”
She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling an equal measure of fury build inside her. “Don’t you dare call me a fool, Daniel Wolcott!” She tried to struggle free.
He cursed loudly but refused to release her; instead, he pulled her closer to him. “Damn it, keep still, and don’t think of kicking me again, or you’ll feel the consequences.”
“Consequences?” she snapped. “Go ahead, then. Do your worst!” She raised her hands and pushed against his chest, finally breaking apart from him as he relaxed his hold.
“Clearly, I need to teach you some manners, my dear,” His voice was clipped and his eyes dangerously dark. He was furious with her.
She gulped. “You shouldn’t have called me a fool.”
“You are a fool.”
His tone had gone from angry to something else. He reached out and pulled her close against him once more.
She opened her mouth to protest, but somehow, something was different, and the words died in her throat.
Before she could get her bearings, Daniel’s lips descended onto her own.
Bree went to push him away but instead, found her fingers desperately clutching the wet lapels of his jacket. A heady sense of desire swept through her as his mouth pressed more fully against her own, demanding but surprisingly gentle.
His tongue flicked in and out of the depths of her mouth, teasing and tempting her with little remorse. She moaned and touched her tongue to his, mimicking his movements. So, this was what being kissed senseless felt like? It was delicious and thrilling all at once.
His hands cupped around her buttocks and kneaded the flesh through the soaked material of her chemise. He pulled her in tightly against him, and she felt the hard length of him pressing against her belly. Is that what the male appendage felt like? She’d always been a little curious after seeing da Vinci’s David during her travels. But Daniel felt larger than what she’d seen. She felt all flushed even thinking about it.
Her heart thumped against her chest as a deep longing for him whispered through her. She’d never been kissed with such abandon before. Certainly, a few gentlemen had tried to steal some kisses in the past, but she’d always found the experience rather tedious. Not so with Daniel.
His hand gently skimmed up her chemise until it cupped one of her breasts through the soaked cotton. He softly began squeezing it, his thumb brushing against her nipple. Bree whimpered as heat spread through her, her body’s every nerve ending tingling from his touch. His lips and hands were urgent and demanding.
But then, without warning, he wrenched his mouth free from hers and stepped back.
Bree stumbled, her knees feeling weak and her body still trembling.
“God damn it!” he swore, dragging a hand through his damp hair.
She took in a gulping breath of air, trying to calm her racing heart.
He glanced at her, an expression of guilt and remorse clear in his expression. “That was a mistake.”
She felt as if she’d been thrown into the icy water again. The man had just kissed the very breath from her, and now, he had the gall to say that?
Determined to not let him see her hurt, she squared back her shoulders and sent him the frostiest glare she could conjure. “It certainly was. Don’t let it happen again.” Because if it did, Bree didn’t think she could keep up the pretense that his touch had no effect on her, and she doubted she’d be able to stop him from seeing how his indifference hurt. And hurt her, it did, as much as she tried to pretend otherwise.
“Let it happen?” His tone was laced with mockery. “You seemed to be enjoying it as much I did, Princess.”
“I was just trying to get warm.” She swept past him toward the line of trees.
“Where are you going?”
She stopped and glared at him over her shoulder. “I’m continuing on our journey. We still have to save Travis, in case you had forgotten, after your loss of control.”
“I’m very aware we have to get the journal to Cosenza,” he grumbled.
They both looked at each other, their eyes widening at the same moment.
“The journal!” Brianna gasped. Was it still there? With the cold seeping back into her legs and her wet undergarments clinging against her thighs, she couldn’t really feel it.
Daniel strode over to her, and his hand patted over her cotton drawers, up her thigh. “It’s there,” he said.
She tamped down the flush of excitement the casual brush of his hands against her thighs had evoked. “Quickly, remove it from the satchel.” She used her hand to tap his shoulder, trying to convey the urgency of the situation. “We have to check to see if it’s still legible from the water.” Hopefully her uncle’s boasts that the bags were waterproof were correct.
He reared back slightly and rolled his eyes, but then deftly, he crouched down in front of her and pushed up the damp leg of her drawers. She tensed up slightly as her thigh was once again exposed to his view. Good gracious, this trip was certainly turning into one filled with new experiences.
Untying the braid, Daniel pulled the bag free and opened it. He retrieved the journal from inside, and Bree spied some other papers of his in the satchel.
She took the journal from him, and quickly flipped through the pages. Amazingly, the material of the canvas bag had protected the pages.
Bree smiled down at him. “Thank goodness! It has survived. It would appear the War Office’s special bags do in fact work against the elements.”
The edges of a grin tugged at his lips in reply. “The inventor of the material, Edward Macintosh, was a genius. Well ahead of his time. No wonder the Royal Society made him a fellow for his contribution.”
Suddenly, Bree became painfully aware that he was crouched between her thighs, with half of one of her legs completely exposed to his gaze. She felt a heated flush infuse her face.
She watched his eyes widen, as he looked from her face to her thigh and back again.
“I will just, umm…” He seemed unaccountably at a loss for words.
“I’m sorry I placed us in danger,” the words blurted from her mouth. For some reason, she didn’t want this moment to end. This moment where Daniel seemed as awkward as she felt, and instead of sniping at each other, there was a sense of
closeness. Though, upon reflection, she did feel guilty over the danger she’d placed them in.
He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “And I’m sorry I lost my temper.”
Bree tried to mask the shock she was sure had leapt to her face. He was apologizing? A feeling of happiness started to spread through her as they simply stared at each other.
Then without saying anything further, Daniel reached up and rolled the damp cotton back down over her leg. Bree wasn’t certain, but it felt as if his fingers lingered against her flesh as he gently pulled the cloth down.
There was a swirl of anticipation in the air as Daniel swiftly stood, hunger in the depths of his stare.
She gulped as a longing to be pressed against him stole through her. This was crazy. He wasn’t what she wanted. And she could never be what he needed.
He took a deliberate step back from her and pointedly gazed toward the distant trees. “Come,” his voice was gruff. “We need to get moving.”
Chapter Thirteen
Naples, Italy
Calogero read the note that had been transmitted across the Semaphore line, and a slow smile spread across his thin lips.
“Very good.” He gave the messenger a silver coin and motioned him to leave.
The man bowed, then turned on his heel and departed from the hotel suite, closing the door with a firm snap.
Calogero stared across the sprawling room, nestled in the best hotel Naples had to offer, toward the brawny man who seemed out of place on the elegant, green brocade lounge. Walking over to his guest, Calogero handed him the message before sitting down on the armchair by the fireplace, where a fire crackled in an effort to ward off the chill breeze sweeping in under the windowpanes from the bay outside. “It seems you will be assisting me, Ignazio.”
He watched as the head of the Naples Garendetta read the note.
Ignazio looked up to him. “So it does. We shall be working with your man to find this Miss Penderley and her journals, then.”
Calogero could hear the reluctance in the man’s tone. But he cared little. The head of the Garendetta for the entire Calabria Citra region had just agreed to assist Calogero, and Ignazio would not dare go against such a powerful man. To do so would be to sign his own death warrant.
“I expect complete cooperation from you when dealing with my man Bussoni. He will give your men instructions to follow. I would have accompanied you all, but I must return to Cosenza urgently.” Calogero lit a cigar and drew in a deep breath of the smoke. “Now, no more stupid attempts to capture her and fight with the Prince’s guards in the process. Are we clear? Until the journal is retrieved, her life must not be placed in jeopardy again.”
The other man’s face tightened a fraction. “If I had known that the Prince had sent five of his best guards to find the Principessa, I would have directed more of my own men to go.”
“It is not your job to know anymore.” Calogero’s voice was curt. “Do you understand? You will do as Bussoni tells you to.”
“Nowhere does this message say I will be subservient to your man, Calogero.” Ignazio jumped to his feet, spittle flying from his mouth.
“I would be careful if I were you, Ignazio,” Calogero warned as he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped off one of the droplets of the man’s spit from his trousers. “You do not wish to become my enemy.”
“And you do not wish to become an enemy of the Naples Garendetta,” Ignazio replied, clenching his fist by his sides. “Many have paid with their lives for doing such a foolish thing.”
“Are you threatening me?” Calogero folded up the handkerchief into a crisp rectangle, before returning it to his breast pocket.
“I would never threaten you.” Ignazio smiled blandly. “Consider it a friendly warning, for my men can be reckless, and I cannot always control them.”
Calogero sent him a tight smile. “Oh you had best hope you can, for your sake.”
“And why would I hope that?”
“Have you heard the tale of how the old head of the Garendetta died all those years ago?” Calogero snubbed out the burning cigar against the palm of his hand.
Ignazio’s eyes were riveted upon Calogero’s palm before he looked up into his face. Calogero was delighted to see fear and uncertainty now lurking in the man’s gaze.
“I was still a young man when that happened,” Ignazio said hesitantly.
“But you’ve heard the tale, yes?”
The man assumed a bored expression. “Everyone in the Garendetta has heard the tale. They say our old leader slept with another man’s wife. When the wife’s husband found out, he butchered both his unfaithful wife and the old leader.”
“The rumors are true.” Calogero picked up a magnificent dagger sitting on a nearby table. “Do you see this beautiful piece of steel?” Holding it up to the sunlight shining through the windows, Calogero admired the gleaming gold and rubies flashing fire across the room. “This was the very dagger I used to end their lives.”
“You were the butcher?”
Calogero face tightened. “I do not particularly care for that choice of word. I spent hours ensuring that each piece of flesh I cut from them was precisely the same size as the previous one. It took me an inordinate amount of time to do so.” He moved to Ignazio’s side, and the man took a step back. He held out the dagger. “Do you see how sharp I keep this blade? It slices through flesh like butter. It is one of my most prized possessions. And I do not like to be threatened.”
Ignazio visibly paled. “I apologize for any unintentional insults earlier.”
“Good. Now, as the head of the Garendetta has given me his promise that you will assist me, I am hoping you have enough control over your—what did you call them?—reckless men? To ensure they will do as my man instructs them.”
“They will,” Ignazio’s voice was strained.
“I hope so. As their leader, I will blame you if they do not.” Calogero opened the door of his room, pulling it wide. “I am a great believer in keeping promises. When my wife betrayed me and broke her marriage vows, she and her lover had to be punished as a result. Do not make me have to teach you a lesson on keeping promises. Are we clear?”
Ignazio hurried into the hallway. “I understand.”
“Good. Now, go and find the girl and journal. This will make both your leader and myself happy. But one thing…”
Ignazio stared at him in apprehension. “Yes?”
“The girl must not be harmed.” Calogero gently slid a finger along the sharp edge of the blade. “I have decided it is God’s work that she was spared as a baby, against my orders.” He watched rather curiously as blood bloomed from the cut along his finger. As usual, he felt no pain from it. “Yes, God saved her for me so she can be my bride. Marrying her will be the key to attaining not only the treasure, but Cosenza, too. It is destined.”
…
Woods within the Province of Salerno, Italy
Daniel’s boots were still squelching from the soaking they’d received, courtesy of his dip in the river. He stomped on through the forest, taking the little-used path that led to the south.
He could hear Brianna following behind. She was keeping pace remarkably well, considering they’d already walked for close to two hours, though he’d had to slightly unlace the strings of her corset barely five minutes into their trek in order for her to do so.
Luckily, they had the fresh water from the river to keep their thirst quenched. Unluckily, though, the image of her cupping the water and bringing up to her full lips and sipping from it was very nearly driving him mad with desire. And it certainly didn’t help that the woman was in her undergarments.
He still didn’t know what had come over him, to touch her as he had. Certainly, many reacted to near-death situations in strange ways, but he’d faced death many times and had never behaved like such a fool afterwards. He frowned as the feel of her lips under his kept replaying in his mind over and over.
It hadn’t helped that even loo
sened, the corset was showcasing her chest—as much as he was trying to avoid looking anywhere near that region—and not to mention, the water had made the material of her clothing cling tightly to every damn, delectable curve of her body. He stiffened as he recalled how those very curves had felt pressed tightly against him. How pillow soft her lips had been as his mouth teased them open. How silky smooth her skin felt beneath his hands.
Daniel groaned aloud. He was in trouble, and he knew it.
“Is everything all right?” Bree asked from behind.
Suddenly, he was grateful she couldn’t see the front of his trousers. “Fine,” he gruffly replied, determined to think of anything except her. He pulled off his damp jacket and thrust it back to her. “Put this on.” Hopefully, that would help.
“Thank you,” she said. “Where are we headed?”
Wonderful. She’d obviously decided she was over her ire and was going to start talking to him again.
Actually, that could work to distract him, as generally, whenever they started conversing, they argued, which inevitably put him in a foul mood. And a foul mood would help to calm the state of arousal his body seemed to be in the uncontrollable grip of.
“We’re headed for the first town or village we come upon. That’s if we find anything before night falls, which is not long now.” He tried to keep his tone calm as he stepped over a fallen log. He glanced back and was glad to see that his jacket was covering her up nicely, buttoned from top to bottom over her chest. “Hopefully, we will come across somewhere we can find lodgings for the night and a change of clothes.”
“Oh I hope I can have a hot bath; that would be wonderful!” she enthused. “And to be able to get out of these damp clothes would be heaven.”
His steps faltered and then stopped at the suggestion of her undressing. He took in a steadying breath.
The Elusive Earl (Saints & Scoundrels) Page 11