The Heart of a Hellion

by Jess Michaels

  The rest of the supper passed without incident. Mr. Grimes did not provide any valuable information. In fact, he seemed determined to avoid direct conversation with Derrick as often as possible. Selina Oliver also avoided any further scandal with him. She spoke mostly to the woman on her opposite side, the Duchess of Crestwood.

  But Derrick was not entirely iced out. The Duke of Crestwood was seated across from him and seemed a decent fellow. They’d had a fine enough conversation, though not exactly enlightening about any details Derrick could use in his pursuit of the Fox.

  Eventually the meal came to its end and the parties rose, talking and laughing as they moved off to their post-supper enjoyments. The men would go take port and play a round of billiards. The ladies were meant for sherry and cards. Selina linked arms with the Duchess of Crestwood and they walked together, while Derrick found Barber and fell in beside his friend and partner.

  “Find out anything of interest?” Barber asked.

  Derrick pursed his lips, trying not to be distracted by the twitch of Selina’s hips beneath that gown. “Not really. I tried to make some headway with Grimes, but he didn’t seem in the mood to talk. Apparently my serving in the army with the duke’s bastard brother doesn’t elevate me to the status of one worthy of polite conversation.”

  Barber let out his breath slowly. “Well, some will judge us. We knew that when we came.”

  “Aye,” Derrick muttered.

  “It seemed you were getting on well with Miss Oliver,” Barber suggested, dropping his voice.

  Derrick stared straight ahead for a moment, then allowed himself to look at Barber as they entered the billiards room. Roseford was pouring the port for his friends, his face bright with pleasure as he moved like a honeybee from flower to flower.

  Somehow Derrick didn’t think he’d have the same expression if his host knew Derrick’s inappropriate thoughts about Selina.

  He cleared his throat. “She is a friendly enough woman.”

  “Hmmm,” Barber murmured, and Derrick knew the tone. The men had been friends long enough to call each other on their nonsense. He waited for Barber to do so, but they were interrupted as Roseford reached them with his port.

  “This is a thirty-year port,” Roseford said as he handed over a glass of the rich liquid to each man. “My father would hate that we’ve opened it and so I do it with glee. Enjoy, gentlemen.”

  As Roseford flitted off to his next guest, Barber sipped the wine. “Oh, that is good. A fine flavor.” Then he turned to Derrick and held his gaze for a moment. “Be careful, mate.”

  Derrick gripped his glass a fraction tighter. He knew what Barber was referring to, who he meant when he made that admonishment. But he shrugged. “I’m always careful. The job is to be careful, isn’t it?”

  “Except when it isn’t,” Barber said with a smile at the quip they liked to make to each other. “Only I’m not talking about the job. You don’t often show your thoughts on your face, Huntington. It makes you excellent at what we do. But tonight, for a moment, I saw those thoughts when you were talking to Miss Oliver. Who can blame you? She’s a great beauty and seems to have an…interesting set of beliefs when it comes to life, if the rumors are to be believed.”

  “Well, I’m not here for whatever you think you saw,” Derrick said through gritted teeth. “So it doesn’t really matter in the end, does it?” Before Barber could respond, Derrick leaned forward and tapped his glass against his friend’s. “To the case.”

  Barber held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “To the case. May we find our Fox swiftly and collect our blunt with pride.”

  Derrick laughed, and then they were approached by some of Roseford’s friends, so they were not able to speak on the subject of that case, or of Selina, any longer. A good thing, perhaps, because Barber’s advice was still ringing in Derrick’s ears.

  Be careful.

  Yes, that was exactly what he should do. Only he wasn’t feeling careful, not when it came to Selina. He was feeling something else entirely.

  And he needed to push past that and forget about it before it disrupted not only his case, but his life and the control he had cultivated in every corner of it.

  Chapter 5

  Because the weather was divine, the next day Selina found herself out on the expansive lawn watching her brother’s friends play what she assumed they believed was a rousing game of bowls. At present Robert’s ball was closest to the jack and he was crowing about it rather mercilessly, to the great amusement of his friends.

  She had never been a fan of bowls. In truth, she never felt fully comfortable with these sorts of games. Her life had not required she learn about them until she was much older and trying to pretend to fit in, rather like she was doing now. So none came naturally. Give her a deck of cards and she could dazzle anyone, and probably end up with their money in her reticule, too.

  But roll a ball down a green with any skill? That felt foreign.

  Vale stepped up beside her, the perfect image of a companion if ever there had been. Only Vale had slept long into the morning and certainly hadn’t helped with hair or clothing. The act of companion was just that…an act. Not that Selina expected more. She’d learned to take care of herself long ago and preferred it, truth be told. If one depended on someone else, they would surely be let down.

  “Well, you did not lie,” Vale said. “Derrick Huntington is, indeed, a very handsome man.”

  Selina jerked at the statement, for it forced her attention back to the man she’d been trying to avoid for the past day: Huntington. God, even when she just thought his name in her head, it was a drawn out purr of every syllable. He stood on the opposite side of the lawn, observing the game just as she was, not participating. Unlike his partner. Mr. Barber seemed to be enjoying himself very much, as he stood watching the game, speaking to the Dukes of Crestwood and Sheffield intently.

  “I’m afraid he is, indeed, intolerably good looking,” Selina said with a theatrically sad shake of her head. “It’s almost unfair. I mean, that jawline. It’s practically poetry.”

  Vale chuckled. “I won’t argue that point. He’s very well favored. But…is he competent? That is the real question.”

  Selina sighed. She had spoken to Huntington twice and neither time had she been able to fully question him, drill into his mind. To have done so either in the library or in the dining room would have only sparked his suspicions. However, there was still a clear answer to the query. One the man carried as easily as his broad shoulders or his dark, annoyingly soulful eyes.

  “I fear he is quite competent. It is evident the moment one speaks to him.” She shook her head. It would have been so much easier if he were just pretty to look at and nothing to fear.

  “Damn,” Vale said, her shoulders rolling forward in a small display of defeat. “Well, that complicates things. But the next question is one I cannot help but think I already know the answer to, though I’ll ask it anyway. Is he distractible?”

  Selina flashed to those same dark eyes holding hers for far more than a beat too long. She’d trained herself long ago to instantly recognize a man’s attention. It kept her fed as often as it kept her safe. “Possibly,” she said. “He is…interested.”

  “As are you,” Vale said. Said, not asked.

  Selina looked at her friend. Despite their long acquaintance, she still wasn’t accustomed to allowing herself to be read so easily. She didn’t like it. If Vale could see, someone else could see. Including Huntington. His job, after all, was to read those around him. She saw him doing it all the time. Even now, his gaze flitted from player to player, and she could all but see him making notes in his head about every person at the party.

  “You think?” she asked, forcing herself to be breezy.

  “I know you do,” Vale insisted. “It isn’t very often that a man truly lights you, so when it happens it is something of note. You are lit. Like a candle. Like a fire. Like an inferno.”

  Selina shifted. She’d been trying to a
void that realization in herself, truth be told. She didn’t want to be lit, and certainly not by a man who was dedicated to hunting her. Not that he would catch her, but it was playing so close to the edge. She didn’t want to fall. Not now when it felt like things were coming together. Where she was almost…safe.

  She waved her hand in the hopes she would appear unconcerned. “I wouldn’t go so far.”

  Vale shrugged. “Fine, keep your counsel. But what are you going to do?”

  Selina dared to look at him again. His attention had shifted away from the field of players and now locked slowly but firmly on her. They held gazes across the grass, his stare never wavering. She forced her own to remain just as still and firm.

  And in that moment, it became clear what to do to regain the upper hand on a man who threatened her world in more ways than one.

  “I’m going to tell him what I know,” she said with a little smile for her friend.

  “What?” Vale gasped, her eyes widening.

  Selina laughed at the reaction and reached out to pat Vale’s arm. “Trust me, dearest. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  With that she sauntered off across the field toward her quarry, leaving Vale behind to whatever her reaction was. But even though Selina pretended all the confidence and faith in the world in her new plan, the nerves she wasn’t showing were tearing her apart. She had to tread very carefully with Derrick Huntington. And careful had never been her strong suit.

  Derrick watched as Selina strolled her way across the playing field toward him, her bright blue eyes locked on his. She was such a purposeful creature, one who obviously knew the value of every swish of her backside, every lick of her lips. He didn’t judge her for that, of course. He just knew to be wary of the game.

  Or he should have been wary. That wasn’t his true reaction. No, in truth his stomach clenched and his cock stirred and he shook his head at the physical reaction that betrayed him. He was always in control. He’d fought very hard to get that way.

  And this woman he didn’t even know knocked him right off his axis with hardly more than a puff of breath.

  “Mr. Huntington,” she all but purred as she slipped up to him.

  “Miss Oliver,” he managed to say past a suddenly bone-dry throat.

  She stepped to his side and for a moment made a great show out of watching the games on the field. At present the Duke of Roseford had been knocked from his perch as champion by his own wife. And he seemed all the happier for it, though he teased the duchess mightily. Their chemistry was on display for all to see.

  Derrick had to make sure he didn’t reveal himself so obviously. Difficult when he could feel the warmth of Selina beside him, smell that unique vanilla muskiness of her skin and hair.

  She leaned her head closer to his and without taking her eyes off the field, she whispered, “I know what you’re doing, Mr. Huntington.”

  He drew in a long breath and let it out slowly before he answered, hoping to find prudence in the midst of the chaos this woman caused in his chest. “Do you? Are you in the mood to tell me what you think that is?”

  She pivoted slightly and lifted her chin. How he longed to drag his thumb along the line of it, let his fingers rest against her throat, then take his mouth along the same path.

  “I know you aren’t here as some mere favor from my brother,” she said. “You’re here investigating the famous Faceless Fox.”

  His eyes went wide and panic washed away attraction as he stared at her. She was not guessing. She knew the truth. It was plain she knew, from her cocksure expression to her even stare. And since he had no idea what she would do next—if she would expose him to the party at large—he had to move and he had to do it now.

  He darted his gaze around the yard and found the shadow of the orangery on the side of the house behind them. Close enough that he could get her there quickly, secluded enough to have a conversation, not something that would draw too much attention if he did this right.

  He caught her elbow in one swift motion, trying to ignore the frisson of awareness that shot up his arm when he touched her in even this benign way. She sucked in a breath and that didn’t help, because it almost was a sound of pleasure.

  He ignored it all and guided her away from the yard and the others. They were all so engrossed in the game of bowls that no one seemed to notice their hasty escape. He hoped it would stay that way as he all but dragged her across the grass toward the orangery.

  Selina’s heart throbbed as Huntington hauled her into the orangery. His fingers trailed along her elbow as he released her, then he leaned back against the door. It was an almost casual posture, but the tension that lined his face told her differently.

  “What do you think you know?” he asked, his voice rough.

  She ignored the question for a moment. Partly to regain some of her authority, and partly because if she spoke right now he’d hear the husky break in her voice and her desire would be too obvious. He could turn the tables.

  And as fun as that might be, it wasn’t the plan.

  She looked around the room as she gathered herself. It was a small conservatory, glass-encased and filled with flowers, small trees and even a small pond in the center with water lilies floating on its surface. The glass had streaked over time, fogged from the steamy heat on the room. No one on the outside would have a completely clear view until they were all but pressed against the windows.

  Which made this a private place, indeed.

  “Answer me,” he said, an order that sent another thrill through her body.

  She pivoted and faced him. He was watching her intently, his gaze focused on her face, but when she took a step toward him, those eyes skittered lower, looking over her from head to toe. He wanted her, that was clear. He was fighting the want. He was just on the edge of control of it.

  Which meant he could be pushed back or pulled forward until he fell.

  “I don’t think I know anything,” she said softly. “I know I know. And I want to help you.”

  His brow wrinkled and her smile widened. Oh, he hadn’t been expecting that. He was trying to formulate some response. Trying to find some way to grapple back on top.

  He cleared his throat. “If I were doing what you think I’m doing,” he began, a weak denial if ever there were one. “Why would you want to help?”

  “The thrill,” she lied, clasping her hands together to better affect a bored little miss who knew little of the world. “I’ve read all about the Faceless Fox in the papers and I know it would be so exciting to have a part in catching him.”

  His brow lowered further and he speared her with a questioning stare. She might have laid it on a bit too thick there. He didn’t seem certain of her. She ducked her head so he wouldn’t read her too closely.

  “I can’t let you do that,” he said, his voice rougher in the quiet of the orangery.

  She smiled as she looked at him once more. “So I was right! What I overheard is true!”

  He shook his head slowly, but she could see the twitch of a smile on his lips. Those extremely nice lips. “What you eavesdropped on, you mean,” he said, giving her a stern glance.

  Her stomach fluttered, but she ignored it as she lifted a hand to her chest and pretended to be affronted. “Eavesdropped? Whatever do you mean, Mr. Huntington?”

  Now she knew she’d gone too far. He chuckled, low and dangerous. “Come now, you needn’t play with me. I saw you. I saw your shadow at the window when I was talking to your brother in his study yesterday afternoon. And then I saw you darting away from me into the adjoining parlor later.”

  She blinked. She’d known he suspected someone was at the window, but she hadn’t realized he’d caught her slipping into the parlor later. Now she blushed and it wasn’t a game.

  His gaze flitted over her face once more. She saw desire in him again and it called to her own. At some point, she could see there would be an explosive end to that. She was looking forward to it.

  He cleared his throat.
“You are too clever to deny what you already know, so I won’t sport with your intelligence. Yes, I’m an investigator, Miss Oliver. Yes, I’m looking into a certain jewel thief who has made quite the name for himself, and with good reason. I haven’t encountered so talented a criminal in a long time.”

  She almost preened at the compliment, but managed to keep herself in check.

  “But as I said a moment ago,” he continued. “I can’t let you help me.”

  She pursed her lips. Let her. Yes, that was the way of the world. Men had the power. Or so they thought. Only she refused to let that stand. She refused to live her life that way.

  “And why can’t you let me?” she asked, just barely keeping the disdain from her voice.

  “You spoke to me of the thrill of the situation. That comes from danger, Selina.” The color left his cheeks. “Forgive me, Miss Oliver.”

  She smiled at the slip. Oh yes, she was already getting under this man’s skin and hardly even trying. So maybe it was time to try. “I don’t mind if you call me Selina,” she said softly. “Derrick.”

  His cheek actually twitched, but he took a step away. The way he shifted his weight, clenched his hands in and out of fists at his sides, it all revealed him. Revealed control that was so tightly coiled in him at present. Great God, what fun it would be to just…snap it. What would happen then? What kind of man would Derrick Huntington be if he just…lost his grip on control?

  She shivered at the thought.

  “Miss Oliver,” he continued, his voice firmer now. “You must listen. I understand that the idea of pursuing a criminal might seem exciting to you. But I assure you that it is a world you don’t want to pursue. This man could very well be dangerous, especially if he ends up cornered. So I must, again, insist that you cannot be a part of my investigation.”

  She pretended disappointment, bending her head with a long sigh. “I suppose I understand. Is there anything I could say or do that would change your mind?”