Red Crystal Romance: #1 Emma

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “No. Not really. I think it’s something I have to deal with inside me,” Emma settled back on her knees, her hands on her thighs. “Have you had lovers?”

  If Lucas thought he knew where their conversation was going, she surprised him yet again.

  “You asked me, so I thought turnabout was fair play,” Emma responded to the silent, almost shocked expression on his face. “I don’t know much about you other than you’re kind and treat your staff well. You invent things and improve on processes already in place. And you really, really like it,” she concluded with a pair of lips pursed and thoughtful.

  “I’ve had lovers, yes.” He wasn’t sure why he regretted admitting it. Men gained experience, women gained reputations. Nothing had changed in that regards since the dawn of time.

  “Probably in several countries on your journeys,” she rolled to her back and stared into the gauzy fabric draped across the bed. “If you wanted to have sex with me, I’d understand,” she kept her gaze from him so her mind could still work. “And if you didn’t, well that’s alright, too. I liked kissing you.”

  “I’m going to retire to my room for the night, Emma,” Lucas stood up, collected his shoes and stockings from the floor and continued on to the door. “Would you like me to leave this open for you?”

  “Yes, please,” Emma stayed on the bed, curling to the side and staring out into the night for several long minutes before rising and extinguishing the lights in the room. When she stripped off the two pieces of clothing and stretched out on the bed, she was still as confused as ever.

  She had liked kissing him. That hadn’t been a lie.

  But what if she really started liking him and was suddenly taken away again? Or the dream actually ended and she woke, alone.

  Hours later, she was positive she heard a noise, her body bolting upright with the sheet falling away. There was a soft, cool breeze and she shivered as her naked body scooted toward the open balcony door. Emma grabbed up the sheet and scrambled off the bed when the scraping and shuffling happened again. She dropped behind the large trunk with the high arched lid, clutching the sheet around her and listening.

  Dark eyes widened as she raised herself up just enough to peek over the trunk. She couldn’t see anything but outlines and cursed herself for turning off the lamp near the bathroom. But in that outline, she saw a kerchief wrapped around the lower part of the man’s face when he climbed over the balcony railing.

  That was when she screamed.

  As loud and long as she could.

  Chapter Nine

  “Bloody bitch!” A hand came out to grab her when the slamming of a door sent the man’s attention focusing on the open door to her bedroom. He took one long look at the woman pushed as far into the corner as she could before he turned and raced back to the balcony, swinging up and over the side.

  Emma heard more voices above even the gulping breaths she was taking, then the sound of pounding hooves disappearing in the distance.

  “Emma!” Lucas hadn’t bothered to retrieve his spectacles and barely stepped into his trousers before catapulting himself from his bedroom and down the hall toward the blood-curdling scream.

  Lucas saw her huddled in the corner seconds before she catapulted across the floor, her arms around his neck. His hands closed around her, crushing her against him.

  “Someone climbed the balcony! I couldn’t see ‘cause I turned the lights out but he had on a mask…a kerchief over the lower part of his face,” Emma released her hands, stepping back when Lucas moved toward the balcony.

  Lucas dropped to his heels, his fingers touching the bits of clay and sand left on the floor and stone of the balcony. He rose and gripped the rail, peering down as clouds cleared the moon and gave him the light he needed to see where the horses had stood and the men.

  “There was more than one,” he said quietly, turning to look at her.

  “I heard voices and woke up. I thought I was dreaming, though, until I heard some scraping,” Emma moved over next to him, her hands hitching the sheet around her as she moved so it wasn’t beneath her feet. “Then I heard horses so I hid behind the trunk…” she shifted when he turned to stare down at her. “Then I kind of screamed.”

  “I’m going to check the doors. Stay here,” Lucas strode to the bedroom door, stopping when she came up short behind him, her eyes wide. “I said remain here, Emma.”

  “But…”

  This time her eyes grew even wider, his hands out before she could move and gripping her upper arms. Before she knew it, she was dangling just about her toes.

  “Lucas…”

  “I will not repeat myself, Emma. Remain here. And if you chose not to, I vow you will not sit for a week,” he watched his words impact her expression. “Have I made myself clear, Emma?”

  Her head bobbed, her voice a quiet hushed sound.

  “Yes. Yes, sir,” she answered instantly, breathing again when her feet touched the floor. She took a step back and watched him leave the room. Weapons, was the first thing that popped into her head when she could think again.

  First, she went and closed the balcony doors, quickly setting the latch. Not that they would really keep someone out who was intent upon entering the house, though, she thought with a little frown. Her head bounced up when she heard his footsteps on the stairs, her heart hammering for an anxious minute before he appeared in the door frame.

  “Nothing has been disturbed,” Lucas crossed the room and opened the balcony doors, stepping onto the stone and gripping the railing. He stared out in the direction of the hoof prints in the dirt.

  “Do you have a gun?”

  Lucas turned and looked at her, both brows up in surprise.

  “No. Absolutely not,” he answered immediately.

  “Have you been robbed before?” Emma frowned at his answer. For some silly reason she thought everyone in old times had guns. Or swords. “What about a sword? Do you have one?”

  Lucas pushed a patient breath between his lips. “No, Emma, I do not have a sword.”

  “A dagger?” She stared at him, one hand on her hip and her foot tapping impatiently. “What kind of…we need weapons. We need to arm ourselves. And a dog. A big, vicious dog…” she turned and paced across the room.

  “We’ve never had a problem before,” Lucas frowned at that.

  Emma opened her mouth and then closed it. “Not until I was here.”

  “I did not say that.”

  “But you’re thinking it,” she said quietly, her head tipped to the side. “I’m thinking it. If no one’s bothered you before now and the only thing that has changed in that equation is me, logic says it’s because of me…me and my father.”

  “I’ll send for the constable in the morning,” Lucas answered, not arguing her logic.

  “I’m sleeping in the library,” Emma declared, heading for the door after adjusting the sheet she was wrapped in.

  “Emma, you cannot sleep in the library,” Lucas tried not to laugh but a tiny edge of humor was in his words.

  “I’m not staying here. What if they come back? What if they came here to kidnap me? Although why they would want to kidnap me is baffling, still…they were after something and there’s nothing here but me. Other balcony doors are open in the house,” she met his gaze. “Aren’t they? But they chose this one? Why?”

  “Emma…at the moment, I am tired. And we both need sleep,” Lucas moved to the bed, his hand on her arm and pulling her along with him. “So it appears we should sleep here where it’s much more comfortable than the library. Please.”

  “You don’t want to talk about it,” she said, climbing onto the bed and pulling the light blanket over her, her nervous gaze shifting to the open doors. “You’re not going to close them? What if they come back?”

  “I’m fairly certain you’ve managed to frighten them off for the night,” Lucas remarked, settling himself and pulling the other blanket over him. “Go to sleep, Emma.”

  “I’m not sure you’re taking this s
eriously, Lucas.”

  “There is nothing I can do about it at the moment. It’s almost two in the morning. Again,” Lucas yawned and closed his eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve had one solid night of sleep…” he stopped himself.

  “Since I got here,” she finished the sentence for him, her head nodding and her sigh long. “Good night, Lucas.”

  Lucas stared up for a quiet minute.

  “Have you ever fired a gun, Emma?”

  “No.” The answer was given grudgingly.

  “Brandished a sword?”

  “Good night, Lucas,” Emma responded stiffly, burying her face in the pillow and yawning, ignoring the deep chuckle at her side.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised that she woke alone in the large bed. But she knew she was definitely getting used to the softness and warmth. Or maybe it was that dark scent of Lucas that lingered.

  Emma stepped out of the bed and into the bathroom. A quick brush of her teeth and other necessities and she found a fresh pair of still adapting to the underwear of the time. She opened the top ribbon of her camisole and lifted the lid on the trunk with two hands.

  Resolute, she thought. She had to be resolute about this situation. She was here and she needed to adapt. So she wanted the trunk empty. She pulled the shoes and boots out, tossed them toward the wardrobe. She lifted a few more books from the bottom, laid them on the bed and was about to close the lid when she stopped and stepped back.

  Emma stared, head tipped and thick lashes blinking. She moved closer, looking inside and then back at the outside. She wasn’t tall enough to climb inside, but she could bend into the center and tap on the bottom of the trunk.

  It was off. About five inches off.

  On tip-toes, she ran her hands around the inside corners once and then once again, frowning when she found the tiny indents in the edge of the flat bottom. Just enough of an indent that she could insert a finger nail and lift. The bottom came up and fit the back of the trunk.

  Emma pushed against the trunk, her head shaking as she turned and took off down the hall. Dark eyes took in the doors, trying to remember which one belonged to Lucas.

  “Lucas!” Emma burst through the door and stopped, staring at the long straight razor Lucas was wielding along the length of his throat. He was bare from the waist up, a towel lying around his shoulders as he shaved.

  “Emma, I’m not dressed…” Lucas finished the last swipe along his throat and tossed the razor into the basin, his hands going to the towel and patting down his face.

  “Lucas, I’ve seen your chest before,” she said with a little shake of her head. She gripped his hand and pulled. “You have to come see this. It’s important,” she turned and tried to tug only to have her feet skid on the floor when he wouldn’t move.

  “Let me finish dressing…”

  “I don’t care about your chest being…” Emma stomped a foot and bounced against him when he still wouldn’t move forward. One palm came up and patted over his chest lightly. “It’s a really nice chest, Lucas, but right now I need you to come to my room and look at this.”

  Lucas gave in, following behind her, their fingers twined as they walked. Or to be more precise, he walked; she pulled and tried to hurry him along.

  “Lucas…look in the trunk,” she released his hand and moved behind him. She put her hands against his back and shoved. “Will you please stop being so stubborn?”

  Lucas looked into the trunk; looked back at Emma and then into the trunk again.

  “That’s British money, isn’t it?” Emma asked smugly, moving to the side and standing with her arms up and crossed over her chest.

  “Emma, this is a great deal of British money,” Lucas dropped to his heels and ran his fingers over the bundled stacks of colorful pound notes in all denominations.

  “The trunk had a fake bottom. I found it when I finished emptying my things. The depth perception was way off when I looked from the inside to the outside so I just started feeling around,” Emma sighed and paced the room. “Do you think the thief last night was looking for that?”

  Lucas looked over at her, one hand up and raking through the dusky blonde hair.

  “You don’t know where this came from?”

  “Lucas, I didn’t know my name, remember? Do you have a safe? We should move it. Put it into a safe until we figure this out,” she said with a firm nod. “But don’t tell anyone. No one in the house. We can’t risk anyone knowing.”

  “And why is that, Emma?”

  “If it is mine, someone knows and wants it. If it isn’t mine, someone put it there and still wants it,” she said logically. “So either way, it’s a problem and the more people who know, the more danger the house is in. You said you’d never had a robbery before last night.”

  “Which is true.”

  “Which means they had to have known about the money. Otherwise, why break into my bedroom? Do you have a suitcase?” She saw the confused look and searched her vocabulary. “A carpetbag? A valise?”

  “Yes, I have a fine valise.”

  “You also have a safe,” Emma said without doubt.

  “In the library,” Lucas confirmed, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets.

  Emma bit the corner of her lip and stepped to stand in front of him, one palm up and stroking over his bare arm.

  “This has something to do with our fathers, doesn’t it?” She met the steeled expression and just nodded. “A little too coincidental.”

  “We will sort this out, Emma,” Lucas took her hands in his and cupped them together.

  She didn’t know why but she knew she wanted to kiss him again. He had such a confident expression in his eyes that even with the doubt inside her, he was managing to make her feel there was someone watching out for her. Someone who wanted to protect her. Someone she was important to. That was something she’d always dreamt of feeling…important. Even if it was just for one person. And maybe even if it was just for a little, tiny bit of time. The warmth slowly traveling through her now was worth it.

  “I believe you,” she said softly.

  “I won’t permit them to harm you, Emma,” his voice tightened, his hands on her face when she looked down. He forced her to look up into his eyes.

  “It’s alright, Lucas,” she let her fingers touch the band on his trousers. “Why did you go the London when your father summoned you?” She watched the hesitation enter his gaze and nodded.

  “To tell him I would not be a party to his intention to…to traffic in a human being,” he told her firmly, vowing to himself there would be no lies between them.

  “I see. That’s why you don’t stay in bed in the mornings, despite having spent the nights with me,” Emma tried to back away, pulling in a deep breath and accepting that answer.

  “Stop struggling,” he ordered gruffly. “I have no desire to ruin your reputation, Emma.”

  “My father gambled me off in a card game, Lucas,” her laugh was dry, edged in hurt that she didn’t keep very well hidden. “I’m fairly certain it’s the talk of every ballroom and summer party in London. It would surely effect your reputation if you married me.”

  “My reputation as a blue-stocking? As an inventor? Or the one where people cross the street to avoid listening to me explain the latest improvements to the house and grounds?” Lucas liked the tiny smile playing at the corner of her lips.

  Emma flattened her palms against his waist and stroked slowly to his chest.

  “We could have an affair,” she suggested quietly, leaning in and brushing his chest with her lips. Relief flowed into her when he didn’t push her away, a soft moan breaking free when his palms stroked across her back and down, onto her hips. There was no mistaking his interest, his arousal evident in the hardening length of his cock beneath his trousers.

  “Emma…” his voice had lowered and shook even as his hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly against him. She moved seductively, stroking him with her lower abdomen while spilling warm, moist kis
ses over his chest.

  “I’m aware that I’ve passed marrying age, Lucas. I’m considered a spinster now at almost twenty-five,” Emma pressed closer, tipping her hips and groaning when it rubbed just right over her clit.

  “Marry me, Emma,” Lucas pushed the words out of his mouth along with a sharp breath. He stared down into the round, dark eyes.

  “No. I won’t hold you to that…that idiot scheme,” she murmured against his flesh, taking one slow step back toward the bed and then another. “We’re modern thinkers,” she hoped she found the right words.

  “You believe I would treat you thus?”

  “You’ve had lovers, you’ve admitted that. Why am I different?” She continued moving them toward the bed until she felt it behind her. Emma turned him and gently pushed him to sit. They were level now and she placed both hands on his shoulders, letting the solid feel of him play beneath her palms. Warm and strong. She pressed against his chest, the soft muslin of her camisole felt coarse against nipples peaked with sensation.

  “You are different to me, Emma,” Lucas let his hands fall to the globes of her ass and pulled her close, his lips brushed over the thin gap between her camisole and the sheer fabric of her pantaloons. Her scent filled him; warmth and sleep and woman. He gave in and drew his tongue along the gap before opening the lowest button with his teeth.

  “Lucas…” his name whispered out softly against his head, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and clinging to the strength of him. Her breath caught and froze when he opened the ribbon that held the pantaloons around her waist. Once that bow was undone, they pooled at her feet.

  She felt the whisper of hot breath over her stomach, small bites over her skin followed by his tongue as a soothing agent that made her shiver. She hesitated when he pulled her closer, wanting her astride him.