Deliciously wicked

by Robyn DeHart

  She offered him a smile in spite of her disgust.

  “What did you want to see me about?” he asked.

  “I have a favorite hobby, a secret hobby, and it seems as though we might share it.” She lowered her eyes, then slowly let them slide up to his face. “I heard recently that you have purchased a racing horse.” She said the last two words in a whisper.

  His eyes widened ever so slightly. He shifted his stance and poked his hands in his pockets. “Where did you hear that?”

  “A friend.” She waved a hand in front of her. “It matters not. The point is, I love racing horses.” She walked around to the desk and propped one hip against it. “I find racing exhilarating to watch. And I’ve always wondered what it must feel like to ride atop such a beast, with my hair blowing in the wind and…” She released a dramatic breath. “Now see, I’ve gone on and on. Do forgive me.”

  He eyed her warily, but she didn’t allow her smile to waver. Eventually his shoulders sagged a little and he leaned forward. “I didn’t realize, Miss Piddington, that you felt so strongly about this.”

  She leaned forward and lightly touched his arm. “Oh, but I do.” She leaned back. “I realize it’s not all that ladylike of me to want to ride such a fast horse. But I can’t help myself. Will you keep my secret?” She released a low giggle. This was easier than she thought it would be. No wonder Charlotte had her pick of suitors.

  He smiled, which looked more like a leer, and it sent shivers up her arms. And not the welcome sort of shivers.

  “Of course I can,” he said. “I’m good with secrets.”

  She knew that was true. “Might I ask you a question, Mr. Munden?” she asked sweetly.

  “Of course.”

  “I certainly don’t mean this in a nasty sort of way, but I was wondering how you were able to afford such a beast? I realize my father pays you quite well for your position, but perhaps not as much as would be required for such a purchase. Did you, by chance, find a seller who gives bargain prices? Because I would love to make a similar purchase, but with my allowance it would be difficult.”

  He seemed taken aback at first, but she kept her smile firmly in place. He cleared his throat. “I made some investments that turned out well for me,” he said.

  Investments! Stealing money was not an investment. “Oh.” She tried to look disappointed. “Were I to discover I could afford such a creature, could you put me in contact with your seller?”

  He looked down at his feet. “I don’t remember his name,” he said.

  Meg reached to touch his arm. “Are you quite certain of that?”

  “Yes.” He stood and moved away from the chair. “I should be going.”

  “Oh, Mr. Munden.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

  He looked at her bare hand resting on his coat sleeve and nodded.

  “I hear that Lady Glenworthy was pleased with her chocolate boxes,” she said. If she could trick him into talking about Gareth, he might give her the information she sought. “Perhaps Mr. Mandeville is good at something.”

  He snorted. “Bloody Irishman.”

  “You do understand,” she cooed, “that the only reason I forced you to retain his position was because my father wanted to keep him on in case he would lead us to what he did with the boxes.” She looked around and leaned in. “My father believes that he sold them to a competitor.” She let her eyes go wide. “Can you believe that?”

  Munden took a cigar out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “Course I understand, Miss Piddington. Your father is smart. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “He wouldn’t have allowed Mr. Mandeville to continue to work here had we found any real evidence. Tell me, what clued you in on him as the thief?” she asked.

  He shifted on his feet.

  “It’s quite all right if you tell me, Mr. Munden. I won’t tell. I promise.” She crossed her heart with her right hand.

  He leaned closer to her. The smell of tobacco and rotting teeth sprang tears to her eyes and she fought to stay put and hide her revulsion.

  “Someone sent me an anonymous note letting me know he was the one that took the boxes,” he said.

  “Anonymous? Are you certain you don’t know who it was from?”

  “No. Maybe it’s from the blokes he sold it to. You know the ones from the competitors,” he said.

  “Perhaps you’re right. Very clever you are. I’ll make certain to put in a good word with my father about you.”

  He smiled and turned to go.

  “Oh, and Mr. Munden, I’d very much like to see your horse someday. Perhaps you would notify me when you will be racing him,” she said.

  “I will.” He nodded, then left the room.

  Gareth waited until the office door closed before he stepped out of the armoire and shut the double doors behind him.

  “Well, that wasn’t very helpful.” He walked over near her and leaned against the desk.

  “No, it wasn’t.” She glanced at the window. “Will he be able to see you?”

  “No, you can’t see this far into the office from downstairs.”

  She nodded in relief. “I was certain he would give me a little more. Sorry, I—”

  Then a knock at the door sounded. Meg felt her eyes grow wide. “You have to hide,” she whispered.

  He knelt right where he was and scooted under the desk a bit. “Stand in front of me and he’ll never know.”

  She nodded. “Yes?” she said.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Piddington, but I did remember one thing,” Munden said.

  “Yes?” She felt a hand clasp her ankle. Oh my.

  “I remembered that it was a gent out in Yorkshire. Bunkle or something such name,” he said. “The one who sold me the horse.”

  The hand slid up the back of her stocking-clad calf to the back of her knee. She clutched the desk to keep from falling into the seat behind her. “Oh, of course. Very good,” she said, her voice breathy. “Thank you, Mr. Munden.”

  Tiny circles Gareth made with his fingertips sent shivers spiraling through her body.

  “Are you all right, miss?” Munden asked. “You seem a little agitated and out of breath.”

  “No, all is fine.” More than fine if she was honest. Gareth’s hand slid up the back of her drawers and now sat behind her knee. Munden nodded. “I found that fellow from Yorkshire one day when I was in a pub. He was at the next table talking about his horses. About how they came from good stock and their sire had won several races.” Munden rubbed his hand against his beefy neck.

  She could feel the warmth of Gareth’s touch through her stockings. She wanted Munden to leave, but she certainly couldn’t ask him to do so. It was her idea to start this conversation.

  Munden gave her a wide grin. “We’ll see how mine does in his first race.”

  The desire was flowing rapidly through her blood and she had to fight the urge to clench the desk and cry out. Gareth’s hands had moved so far up now, his hands were wrapped around the insides of her thighs.

  “I suppose I should be going,” Munden said.

  Thank goodness.

  “Have a good evening, miss.”

  “You as well, Mr. Munden,” she said, her voice sounding far too shaky.

  He turned and left the office.

  She knew she should step away from Gareth, but she was afraid to move. Afraid she’d fall. Afraid he’d stop. Afraid he wouldn’t.

  He said nothing, so she remained quiet as well. And soon she felt his other hand slide up the back of her other leg, until his hands rested beneath her bottom. He kneaded her flesh a bit before curving his hands around her hips until they touched the front of her legs. Very near the center of her being.

  He smoothed his right hand across the juncture of her thigh and hip, and cupped her gently.

  “Sit down, Meg,” he said, his voice rich and deep.

  She opened her eyes, not quite recognizing that she’d even shut them, and felt for th
e chair behind her. She complied and sat, and in doing so, she could finally see his face. His glorious hazel eyes had darkened to a sultry brown and the shadow of a beard darkened his cheeks. In that moment, she knew she would do anything he asked of her. She might not be strong enough to survive this, but she also wasn’t strong enough to walk away.

  He knelt before her, hands still up her dress.

  “Should we lock the door?” she asked.

  “No, I think he’s gone.”

  She nodded.

  He moved his finger to the slit in her drawers, all the while never taking his eyes off hers. He barely touched her flesh, and she jumped. His hands were warm and delivered such delicious sensations that she wasn’t quite certain what she should do. He’d brought her to release once before. In the carriage, where he’d held her against his hardness and stroked her with almost agonizing pleasure.

  Tonight would he take his own pleasure? They were completely alone in the factory. All the workers had long since left, and she’d heard the front door close as Munden took his leave. Unlike the evenings she’d worked here on the boxes, she had not brought Ellen with her.

  His finger found the outer edge of her opening and gently teased the area.

  “Already wet for me,” he groaned. “You are the most tempting woman I’ve ever encountered.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Oh yes. Such naughty things I want to do to you,” he said.

  Her heart raced in her chest, pounding an uneven rhythm. “Such as,” she breathed.

  “This,” he said, as he slid his finger into her.

  She clutched his shoulders and cried out.

  He moved his finger in and out until she was rocking against him in the chair. Oh my.

  “I see,” she managed to say.

  “And this.” He removed his finger and slid it to the nub hidden beneath her folds. He made a slow circle with it and she cried out.

  “But most of all, right now, I want to do this.” He picked her up and scooted her to the edge of the chair. With one swift movement, he hiked her skirt up and found her center with his mouth.

  Oh sweet heaven, she never knew there were such things. Sensations sparked through her body like gunfire as his tongue made its great exploration.

  It was hard to determine precisely where his tongue was, the pleasure was too intense and spreading through her so quickly. She bucked against him, and even went so far as to raise one of her legs to brace on his shoulder.

  The pleasure grew and grew until she was unable to contain her moans, and soon the office echoed with her pants and cries. As his tongue laved across that little nub, his finger slid back inside her and she felt a jolt shiver through her abdomen.

  The feelings were intensifying, and she knew her release was coming. Could feel it rising and building until she was certain she would explode into tiny pieces at any moment.

  It crashed over her quickly. Waves and waves of pleasure rocketed through her and she clutched his hair. He kissed her tenderly on the thigh, then lowered her skirts.

  She was unsure how to look at him then. What she should say, how she should proceed.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice quiet and intense. Almost as if he blamed her for such a thing.

  “Gareth, I—”

  “Don’t say anything. I will probably regret this later, but I couldn’t resist you. I find that to be true much of the time.” His eyes narrowed. “What sort of spell have you woven around me, witch?”

  It wasn’t a legitimate question, and she had no answer to bestow on him. She had certainly not tried to bewitch him. She did not know how to do such a thing. Although she had certainly wondered the same about her reaction to him. At times it seemed as if it was he who had created the spell. That seemed unlikely, though.

  One thing she knew for certain, no matter how she feared the repercussions, she would never regret this. Never regret allowing him to touch her. To love her body.

  Chapter 12

  Meg sat at her dressing table while Charlotte put a jeweled clip in her hair. The four of them had met at Meg’s house to ready for the concert. Although with the exception of the jewels she was loaning Charlotte, the other three girls were ready when they arrived.

  Meg wore a rich purple dress with a plunging neckline and black lace trim.

  “This matches your dress perfectly. You look lovely,” Charlotte said.

  “As do you,” Meg agreed.

  “We all look lovely,” Amelia said cheerfully.

  “Willow, do take your spectacles off,” Charlotte said. “You look so much prettier without them, and you only need them for reading.”

  Willow bristled. “I feel quite fine with these on. Thank you.” She straightened them on her nose.

  “I was only trying to help,” Charlotte said. “There is no need to get short with me.”

  Willow nodded in acknowledgment.

  They all had on their finest gowns, and Meg and Amelia had supplied jewels for each of them to wear. Tonight they were attending a vocal concert in an attempt to lure the Jack of Hearts. It took a half-hour carriage ride to arrive at Charing Cross Road, and they chatted the entire trip.

  It had been several months since the four of them had attended something together. Poor Charlotte had taken it upon herself to do all the work on the case, as far as attempting to catch the Jack of Hearts in the act, while the rest of them tended to their own business. They all knew she’d done so not out of a great sense of bravery, but rather because of a heightened fascination with their nemesis.

  While not nearly as excited or nervous as she had been the night she’d ventured into Mr. Munden’s residence, Meg could feel the hum of adventure in the air. They made their way to their seats, and soon the lights dimmed.

  Meg could hear the music and could see the soloist, but her mind was drawn away. Neither the excellence of the performance nor the purpose of tonight’s outing could keep her mind from wandering to Gareth. Tall, seductive Gareth with his sensual eyes and sinful mouth. Keeping her mind off him was an exercise in futility.

  The first part of the concert had concluded and they stood in the lobby for the intermission. The music hall was abuzz with activity and Meg took in her surroundings. Charlotte hailed a footman who brought over a tray of champagne.

  “To us,” she said, holding up her glass, “the Ladies’ Amateur Sleuth Society. May we always find adventure and friendship wherever we go.”

  They toasted, and Meg took a sip of the refreshing liquid. The bubbles tickled her lips as she held the glass to her mouth. Had Gareth ever been to such a performance? So many things about him remained a mystery. And the closer she came to solving this case, the more she realized that eventually she would complete the task and she would no longer have reason to call upon him. All those little things she wanted to know, those curious little facts, would remain unknown.

  “Any sight of him?” Amelia inquired, breaking into her thoughts.

  “None,” Willow said. “But the night is not over. We mustn’t forget that the times he’s come into theaters, he’s always robbed those in their box seats, not in the lobby. Perhaps he’s waiting until the intermission is over.”

  “How’s the chocolate business?” an unfamiliar voice asked. Meg was about to answer when another voice did it for her.

  “As it turns out, an excellent investment,” the second voice said.

  They were both women and the conversation had caught the attention of the rest of sleuths as well.

  The two women having the discussion were behind Meg, and she wanted to turn and see their identity, but she couldn’t do so without being too obvious. Not only that, but most people knew who she was, and she didn’t want the fact that she was standing right there ruin her opportunity to listen in on this private chat.

  “The two gentlemen I’m funding,” the second voice said, “have developed a new and rather exciting idea for packaging.” The voice was not familiar at all, no matter how Meg struggled t
o place it. “Keepsake boxes,” the lady whispered.

  Meg felt her eyes go round and Amelia actually released a loud “Oh,” but no one seemed to notice.

  “I only just saw them this afternoon, and they’re divine. The development of these could put the Leighton Brothers in serious competition with the rest of the confectioneries,” she said.

  “I’m certainly glad to see this investment turned out better than your last three, Mildred.”

  “As am I.”

  The lights flickered, indicating it was time for them to return to their seats, but Meg and the other girls remained where they were while the rest entered the auditorium.

  “Who was that?” Meg finally asked. “I couldn’t place either voice and I so desperately wanted to turn around and look at them.”

  “Mildred Sommerset,” Charlotte said. “I don’t recall anything in particular about her, but I know I’ve met her once or twice. She’s wealthy, but I’m not certain why. I believe she’s a widow. I didn’t recognize the other woman.”

  “I didn’t know either of them,” Willow said.

  “Nor I,” Amelia said. “But they certainly had some interesting information to share. Do you know anything about the Leighton Brothers?”

  “I’ve heard the name, but not in a while. They’re a smaller confectionery and rather new, only starting up in the last year or so,” Meg said. “I’d have to ask my father for more information.”

  “Sounds as if the thief might have sold those boxes to the Leightons,” Willow said.

  “Indeed,” Meg said. She would have to go and see Gareth tonight, tell him of this information. They needed a plan of how they could visit the Leightons and prove the boxes had been sold to them. She would not allow someone to steal her father’s ideas and profit from them.

  “We should get back in there; the music is starting,” Amelia said.

  Meg had no mind for the music after that. She barely heard one note and was eager for the evening to end.

  “We had no luck again,” Willow said as they waited for their cloaks.

  “Don’t fret,” Amelia said. “The Jack of Hearts is a clever one. It’s simply impossible to predict when he’ll strike.”