“Your...gift is what allows you to determine which children you assist. You give them a chance for a better life.”
“Yes. I can’t help them all but—”
“You help as many as you can.” She tapped her adorable chin with a finger. “And the headaches?”
“A side effect of either the aura reading or perhaps the electromagnetism. I’m not certain.” While he was willing to tell her some things, he couldn’t tell her everything. Revealing his aura reading held enough risk. He couldn’t speak of the severe headaches and deep despair that came over him more and more frequently.
“Dealing with people in general is difficult,” he continued, “but crowds are especially so. It’s like walking through a room of people with signs above their heads telling you what they’re about to do. If people have an urge to do something harmful, their aura spikes black. Except they don’t always act on their thoughts.”
“And therein lies your frustration.”
He chuckled, but he knew it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Indeed. Walking by someone who intends to do something wrong, evil even, has proven impossible for me.”
“What do you do?”
He shrugged as he halted before her. “Stop them when I can. It’s far from exact. People change their minds. Sometimes they might think terrible things but not act on them.”
“That must be difficult indeed.”
“I can only use my best judgment of the situation. I look at their environment and their physical appearance. Are they losing money in a card game? Are they fingering their pocket or some other place they’ve hidden a weapon? Do they look desperate enough to take action?”
“It sounds impossible.”
“I’m often wrong.”
“But not always. How on earth do you stop them?”
He studied her expression, looking for the derision and doubt he’d expected but saw only curiosity. “Interrupt them. Distract them. Get their attention on something else.”
“And if that fails?”
“I try to remove them from the situation.” The perplexed look she gave him nearly made him chuckle again. “I tell them I need help with something or that I heard someone was looking for them outside or any such foolishness.”
Abigail rose to stand before him. “That all sounds impossible. How can you help people who don’t necessarily want to be helped?”
“I can’t. Nor can I walk away.”
“I don’t think I’d be able to walk away either. I suppose you have to help as best you can and trust that it’s enough.” She put a hand on his chest. “Why do you own the gaming den?”
“I won it in a bet. Another attempt to stop someone from doing something they shouldn’t. Now, with Mr. Farley’s assistance, it’s used to fund the orphanage. And at times, it provides us with information on people involved in, shall we say...illicit activities.”
“How clever of you. Do you turn those over to the police?”
Stephen laughed. “Rarely. The police don’t always appreciate my efforts.”
“So you can tell whether people are lying? That’s why you didn’t press the Newgate warder for more information. You realized he didn’t have anything else to share.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t always work that way.”
“That’s amazing.” She smiled up at him. “What did you see in my aura the night we met?”
Something deep inside him loosened. “An amazing golden light that I would recognize no matter what disguise you wore.”
Astonishment spread into her blue eyes. “When I tried to visit you at the gaming den, I was covered from head to toe. But it was my aura that you recognized! Are auras that unique?”
“Yours is.” He didn’t tell her he’d never seen anything like hers before, that it turned rose when her thoughts strayed to passion, that even now, the edge of it was tinted pink. Her acceptance of what he’d shared made him realize what a treasure she was.
“I’m sorry again for the problems I caused yesterday.” Color flooded her cheeks, making him wonder to which problem she referred. “So much time had passed since I’d heard from you, I thought you’d been distracted by other business and forgotten about me.”
“Impossible.” How could he forget anything about her? He ran his fingers along the softness of her cheek, unable to resist touching her. “But you must promise to be more careful. If you’re going to leave the house, have Thomas accompany you or send me a message. I don’t want you harmed.”
She nodded. “I will. It’s just that I’m very anxious for Simmons to be stopped.”
“I know. Soon.”
“I hope so.”
“As do I, but the situation is far from resolved. In fact, evidence mounts each day that Simmons is involved in something more, a devious business that could take time to discover in full. Warning off Simmons might not be enough. Not if he’s working for someone else. I know this delays the very thing you want. I’m sorry for that.”
She nodded then sighed. “Stephen?” She slid her hand along the lapels of his jacket.
Rather than answer, he put his hand over hers and kissed her, certain that was what she’d been about to ask him for. The sweetness of her mouth caused his worry to slip away. Her passionate response brought forth his unfulfilled desire from the previous day in spades.
“Yes,” she murmured and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He forgot about everything except the woman in his arms. He pulled her tight against him, reveling in the feel of her curves. This time, he didn’t see how he could walk away from her. Not this time. He needed her desperately.
His heart racing, he pulled back to look at her, to see if she felt half of what he did.
Her desire showed clearly in her face, in her aura. “Would you,” she paused to trail kisses along his jaw, “please,” another on his neck, “make love to me?” Her tongue swirled in his ear. “Now?”
He hesitated, battling with his desire to have her versus his desire to protect her. Yet how could he resist when she put it so simply? “God help me. Yes.”
Euphoria poured through Abigail. She’d been so worried he’d say no, that he’d leave her in this state of frustrating heightened awareness. That the pool of sensations swarming low in her belly would find no relief. Worse yet, that she’d never know what it was like to make love with him. Now more than ever, she knew it had to be with Stephen.
She kissed him to reward him for his answer then pulled back. With trembling hands, she removed the pin holding her hat and placed it on the desk, all the while keeping her gaze on him.
She reached back to unfasten the neck of her gown.
“A moment if you please.” He strode to the door and locked it then returned to her with that slow smile she loved, making her heart squeeze. “May I assist you?”
She turned her back to him, enjoying the feel of his fingers against her, the sensation of cool air as he freed her from her gown. He slowly unlaced and removed her corset. Perhaps not as efficient as her maid, but his touch lingered in the most sensitive spots and felt nothing like Eloise’s. Abigail’s nerves fluttered when at last she stood before him in nothing but her linen chemise.
Slowly, she turned to face him, torn between embarrassment and desire, worried that he’d find her unattractive. His gaze trailed down her body and she couldn’t help but wonder what he saw. He paused on her breasts, and her nipples hardened in response.
“Abigail, your beauty stuns me.” He frowned and bent to gently kiss the cut along her neck. “Damn him for hurting you.”
With determination, she pushed her embarrassment aside and raised her hands to her hair, well aware that her breasts strained through her chemise, leaving little to the imagination. She loosened her chignon, shaking out the long black strands as she continued to watch him, enjoying his reaction.
“Christ.” As though he could take her torture no longer, he stepped forward, tossing aside his coat and neck scarf, and pulled her to him. “You are a siren,” he m
uttered.
She tipped her head back and smiled, reveling in the knowledge that she could stir him. “Am I?”
His kiss confirmed her power.
The feel of his muscled torso under her hands made her ache. “And my aura? What color is it now?” she asked.
He leaned back and looked around her head and shoulders. “A vibrant rose found only in the perfect sunset.”
His poetic description sent a tiny thrill through her. He ran his hands along her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear, then cupped each of her cheeks. “I want to see all of you. Now.”
Emotions she’d never known before filled her, desire heavy deep inside her. She wanted to please him, and so did as he asked. She loosened the ribbons of her chemise and pulled the thin garment from her shoulders and let it float to the floor.
“Yes,” he murmured, his fingers following a path along the sensitive flesh she revealed. Down her collarbone, to the tip of her breast, along her belly, then lower still. He touched the bruise coloring her thigh with gentle fingers and shook his head.
“Your turn,” she demanded with a smile. She made quick work of removing his shirt, pausing to run her hands through the wiry hair of his chest, to trail her fingers along his scar, careful to avoid his bandaged injury. His muscles quivered in response. Next she moved to the waist of his trousers.
“Hold.” He closed his eyes as though overwhelmed for a moment, then took both her hands in his. “Abigail, are you certain? I must know, for I—”
She put a finger to his lips. “Yes. I have absolutely no doubts. Can’t you feel how right this is?”
He searched her face for a long moment before gathering her into his arms. “Yes,” he agreed and sealed his words with a kiss.
She ran her hands along his shoulders, marveling at the solid feel of him. As he eased her down on the sofa, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed the hollow of his throat where his pulse beat frantically.
“So beautiful,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along her neck, down to her breasts.
He took one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip, shooting spears of sensation all the way to her toes. First one, then the other, causing her to gasp in surprise and delight, even as she realized his fingers glided low over her belly. She moaned, hoping he’d repeat what he’d done the previous day.
“Abigail, you’re so beautiful.” He lifted his head to watch her as his fingers touched the most intimate part of her.
As though performing a dance she didn’t know, her hips swayed and thrust to his movements, sensations building within her. “Stephen, please.”
He rose to unfasten his trousers, dropping them carelessly to the floor.
“Oh, my,” she said as she stared at his form.
His body looked as though a sculptor had carved the cords of muscle, paying attention to detail along the hard planes of his stomach. She could see where the hair that started on his chest narrowed on his stomach and trailed down as though to point to his manhood. It stood erect, so different and so much...bigger...than the statues and paintings she’d viewed. How could the artists have portrayed it so wrong?
“You have the softest skin,” he whispered as though trying to distract her from her surprise. He lay beside her on the sofa and continued to use his mouth and fingers to build her passion higher. His member pressed her thigh, surprising her with its heat and hardness. She hadn’t reached the advanced age of six and twenty without some knowledge of the workings of intimacy, but that hadn’t truly prepared her for the actual act, for the feelings building inside her mind and body.
Anxious to please him, she reached down and ran her fingers along his stomach, stretching until she felt that unfamiliar part of him. The breath left his lungs in a rush, giving her pause until she realized her touch stirred him as much as his moved her.
Too soon, he pulled her hand away and wound his fingers through hers as though to hold her in place. “I must have you.”
“Yes.” The longing he created within her demanded fulfillment.
He rose over her, settling between her legs, his manhood pressing against the very core of her. She raised her knees, pleased at the sensation of his weight on her. He pressed into her center, and she could feel her tightness stretching to allow him entrance. Doubt filled her as she realized it simply wouldn’t work.
“Stephen?”
His harsh breathing was her only answer as he reached down between them to touch her. As desire spiraled higher within her, he pushed forward, filling her.
“Oh!” The sharp pain took her by surprise.
He froze, nothing moving except his chest as his breath came fast.
“I don’t think—”
“No. Don’t think.” He kissed her, the heat of his lips easing her concern.
After a moment, she realized her body had accommodated his size, leaving pleasure in the wake of pain. She tilted her hips experimentally, anxious to see what other feelings she might experience.
With a moan, he drew back only to thrust into her. Again, her hips danced with his as though caught in an ancient ritual unknown to her. Layer built upon layer until she couldn’t bear it. At last, he touched her once again and the star she rode burst.
Stephen thrust into her one last time, his moans mingling with hers. She held him tight as she floated back down, her heart slowing, beating in time with his.
Satisfaction and happiness mingled through her as she enjoyed Stephen’s naked body against hers. “That...was glorious.”
He lifted his head, the gold flecks in his green eyes glittered as he studied her expression. “Indeed.”
“I had no idea,” she said with wonder.
He smiled as he shifted to rest his weight on his elbows, his finger tracing her brow. But his smile soon faded and his gaze shuttered.
“What is it?” she asked, not ready to lose their close connection.
He shook his head and moved to her side on the sofa, pillowing her head on his shoulder, wrapping her in his warm embrace. He kissed the top of her head and her heart squeezed.
She basked in the moment, unable to stop the images of more times like this running through her mind. Times spent at his side, cuddled in his arms, visiting about their day, or in the throes of passion. Then she realized exactly what she was fantasizing about—a lifetime with him.
How had this happened? How had his presence in her life grown to include a future? A lump formed in her throat when she realized the irony of the situation. She’d found a man worthy of making her change her mind about marriage, but he had no interest in a life with her.
***
“It wasn’t necessary for you to accompany me.” Abigail glanced up at Stephen as they walked down St. James Street. One of her housemaids, Emma, trailed behind them. Abigail’s pace was slowed by the lingering pain in her thigh.
“Forgive me if I disagree.” He perused the street, clearly keeping an eye out for Simmons.
Stephen seemed in an odd mood today. The shadows under his eyes spoke of a sleepless night, and she couldn’t help but worry it had to do with them making love. It tugged at her to think he was so troubled that it stole his sleep.
The street bustled with shoppers, everyone ignoring the dampness of the day. The sun was not to be found, too stubborn to show itself. A good day to stay home with a bracing cup of tea.
“I don’t like shopping. I don’t see how you can.”
“Perhaps it’s not shopping but the company of my companion I’m enjoying,” he suggested with a smile.
Abigail’s stomach dipped and her cheeks warmed at his comment. Now that they’d made love, she wasn’t sure about the nature of their relationship. No longer strictly business nor did she think they were having an affair. She could only hope their interlude hadn’t been a onetime occurrence.
“I do appreciate that Thomas is home with my stepmother and the girls rather than following me.” Stephen’s appearance on their doorstep in response to the message she’d sent abo
ut her intended outing had surprised her.
“And the other guards.”
“Assuming Irene hasn’t sent them away again.”
He told her he’d posted a second guard nearby with the hope that at least one of them would always be able to keep watch despite her stepmother interfering with his plans.
Stephen shook his head. “I still think you should tell her the truth.”
“I thought about it many times. In fact, I almost did. But it seems like we’re nearing the end of this whole problem. Why worry her if Simmons is no longer a threat in a day or two?”
“Hmm.” Stephen’s noncommittal response was less than reassuring.
Again she ran through the advantages and disadvantages in her mind. No, she was certain she’d done the right thing. “If the situation changes or somehow worsens, then I’ll tell her.”
“As you wish.”
If he only knew of the warm feeling that spiraled through her at his words. Pushing aside her longing, she consulted the list of items her stepmother had requested. When Abigail had heard her planning an outing with the girls to pick up a few needed things, she’d quickly offered to go in her stead. Irene had looked at her as though she’d lost her mind, but Abigail had convinced her she wanted some fresh air.
She’d nearly decided against bothering Stephen for such a minor excursion, but in the end had sent him a message and was glad she had. Any time in his company was time well spent. She hoped to find the right moment to suggest they meet again at his home for another...interlude, but so far, it’d been too difficult to manage such a private conversation while out in public.
Or perhaps she just hadn’t found the courage to do so yet.
“The apothecary is next,” she said. They’d already completed two stops and had one remaining.
“I’ll keep watch outside.”
Abigail and her maid entered the small shop that her stepmother frequented on a regular basis. “Good day to you, Mr. Skyrme.”
“Miss Bradford. How delightful.”
The shopkeeper was a tall, thin man with gaunt cheeks, thick brows, and permanent dark circles under his eyes. Abigail wondered if he had trouble sleeping. If so, surely one of the concoctions in the bottles behind the counter would cure him.
Unraveling Secrets (The Secret Trilogy) Page 20