“I believe you cannot find the ledger.”
“So you understand why I must leave,” she said. “Please do not try to follow me. I know Bobby was looking for us when he was arrested.”
“If a twelve-year-old boy can find you, so can Rupert. You will be safe with me.”
“No!”
“Bella, listen. I’ve been frantic with worry. You must trust that I can protect you.”
“Who will protect you?”
She realized her mistake the moment the words left her lips.
His eyes flashed a gentle but firm warning. “I know it was Rupert in the stables.”
“Then you must understand,” she pleaded. “He’s desperate and dangerous. He had no qualms about injuring an innocent boy and shooting a duke.”
“If you had been honest with me from the beginning, I could have prevented it.”
She felt the blood drain from her face, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep quiet.
“Damn it, Bella. Now that I know who is after you, I can stop him. You must come with me until Sinclair is found and locked up,” James insisted.
“Where?”
“To my home on Park Street.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “You want an unmarried woman to live with you in the ducal mansion? Are you crazed?”
“Why? You had no problems residing with me at Wyndmoor Manor.”
“But ... but that was the country and the manor was mine! You insisted on living with me! This is London where the gossipmongers feast on the nobility. The scandal sheets will surely print—”
“I cannot believe you are concerned about a bit of gossip when you are running from a dangerous man.”
“It’s not only my reputation at stake, but yours,” she pointed out.
He laughed at that. “I don’t give a fig about the gossips or the scandal sheets. But I do care for your safety. If propriety truly disturbs you, I’ll handpick the staff. No one need know of your presence.”
At her hesitation, he said, “Stop carrying your burdens alone and let me take care of you.”
Her heart took a dangerous leap at his words. She was tired, so damned tired, of fighting for her survival and battling the perpetual fear. First it was fear of her husband and now his diabolical twin. She desperately wanted to accept James’s offer, to lean her weary head upon his shoulder and let him deal with Rupert. Confess all her secrets.
Bella wavered, and James pulled her into his arms.
“Let me, Bella,” he said softly. “Allow me the pleasure of caring for you just as you did for me in my time of need.”
If she weren’t determined to keep her wits and remain in control of her emotions, she would have wept at his words.
“I see you need convincing, and I’m more than willing to assume the task.” With slow deliberate movements, he unlaced her bonnet and it fluttered to the floor. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, her cheek, then briefly brushed her lips. “Ah, Bella. I’ve been near mad in my search for you.”
She sucked in a breath. He’d been that anxious to find her? She knew he’d sent Bobby to trail her after her arrival in London. She was stopped from wondering what else he had done by the stroke of his tongue against the base of her throat. Her pulse quickened, and she felt oddly light-headed.
His hands grazed the sides of her breasts, and then lowered to circle her waist. He drew back, and a frown marred his brow. “You’ve always been slender as a reed, but you are even more so now. Haven’t you eaten since we’ve parted?”
Her body hummed deliciously from the pressure of his lips, and his intrusive statement regarding her weight seemed ludicrous. “I have had little appetite,” she said, her voice surly.
“It’s from the worry. No more worries, Bella.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know how to stop.”
“I’ll teach you. You must start by focusing on other things, more pleasurable things. Allow me to demonstrate.” Lowering his head, he kissed her and cradled her face in his hands.
The touch of his lips was gentle at first, a soft brushing of his mouth, and she moved closer into his embrace, seeking more. She parted her lips on a sigh of pleasure, and his tongue slid into her mouth. Her lashes fluttered closed, and her fingers slid into his thick hair and pulled him closer. She loved the feel of him, the texture of his skin and the taste of his lips.
As he tore his mouth from hers, his blue eyes burned with unmistakable desire. “See? Your worries have already begun to ease. Come with me and let me take care of you.”
How wonderful it would be to have someone of influence and power on her side. To not be alone. Harriet was old and didn’t take well to moving from place to place. Bella’s own finances couldn’t maintain such a transient lifestyle. She loved James and no amount of logic or common sense could dissuade her feelings. She had tried to stay away, but fate had once again thrown this man into her path. Only this time, she wanted him, longed for him, and the fact that he knew the truth about the demon who was hunting her and he had still sought to find her made Bella’s heart sing with delight.
“Yes,” she said. “I will come with you.”
He reclaimed her mouth, his kiss fierce with longing, and her thoughts scattered like dry leaves in a sudden gust of wind. Her back was pressed to the wall, her breasts crushed against his chest, and her head held between his large hands.
She knew the strength of those hands, knew the pleasure they could give. His desire was evident in the bold stroke of his tongue, in the strength of his embrace, and in the hardness that pressed against her belly. Bella’s pulse beat erratically in response—and in what she now recognized as anticipation.
He desires me and this time I know what pleasure he can give.
His fingers loosened her hair, and the auburn mass cascaded down her shoulders and back. There was a low groan in his throat as he sank his fingers into the silken strands, angled her head, and held her captive for his plundering kiss.
She whimpered and reached up to push his jacket off his shoulders. She needed to touch him, to feel his heat and warmth and the comfort it could provide. He obliged her, shrugging out of his jacket. His fingers went to the fastenings of her gown and soon she was unbuttoned to the waist. Pushing down the delicate muslin of her chemise, he cupped her breasts in his hands and lowered his head to lick a taut nipple. She arched into his caress, wanting to scream from the intense pleasure. Never had her breasts been as sensitive as when he touched them, caressed them.
She couldn’t imagine intimacy with any other man. James had singlehandedly banished her fear and her sordid memories of Roger. He had taught her that a man’s touch need not be a brutal assault, but filled with a tenderness that sent delightful shivers of wanting down her spine.
Her need intensified, hot and heavy between her legs. He tugged his cravat free and the white silk floated to the floor. With trembling hands she unbuttoned his shirt. She kissed his neck, his shoulders, and her hands roamed the muscular planes of his chest. He was even more stunningly virile than she remembered.
He reached for the hem of her skirt and his fingers slid up her leg, past her garter to push her drawers aside. Then he touched her. Sliding into her silken folds, his thumb caressed her sensitive nub.
Bella’s legs weakened. If his arms hadn’t been supporting her, she would have slid down the wall. She arched her back as he devoured her breasts with his mouth and aroused her to frenzy with his fingers. She held on to his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks in his flesh. She wanted to lick and taste every inch of his heated skin.
“Ah, Bella. Have you missed me?”
Her mind was languid as passion inched through her veins. “Yes,” she sobbed. “Oh, yes.”
Her gown and undergarments slid to the floor. She experienced a moment’s uncertainty that she was left in nothing but her stockings and garters in broad daylight while he remained clothed. Then all thought left her when he kissed her as if he was starving for the tas
te and feel of her.
Boldly, she reached down to cup him, feeling the ridge of his erection through his trousers. A primitive rumble came from deep in his chest.
“James,” she moaned. “I need you... .”
He ripped off his shirt, and she freed his manhood. Hot, hard, it moved in her hands. He raised her leg, giving him fuller access to her as his finger slid deep into her wet, hot sheath. Her hips moved toward him of their own accord.
In one fluid motion he lifted her in his arms. He cupped her bottom, and her legs straddled his hips. She looked down and realized his intent as he slowly lowered her onto his hard erection until he was embedded inside her. She gasped and clutched his shoulders as he carried her to the sofa. “I’m going to fall—”
He silenced her with a kiss. “Trust me, Bella. I won’t let you go.”
Trust him. With each step he took, he slid deeper inside her, fusing their bodies together. The delicious pressure was enough to melt her bones.
He pushed the writing table aside, laid her on the sofa, and covered her body with his. He braced himself with one forearm on the sofa, entwining the fingers of his other hand in her hair. Staring into her eyes, he withdrew, then slowly thrust again. Passion radiated from the soft core of her body, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming her pleasure.
At her soft mewling sounds of delight, he increased the tempo of his strokes, setting her aflame as he plunged into her again and again. Through half-lidded eyes, she looked up at the fierce ecstasy etched on his face and knew she loved him.
“Sweet, Bella,” he gasped. “How I’ve missed you.”
His tender words and the stroke of his body aroused her to a fevered pitch. He covered her mouth, smothering her screams, as she reached a cataclysmic peak and exploded in the cradle of his arms. Once, twice more he thrust within her, then stiffened with his own release. She closed her eyes as a deep feeling of peace entered her being and cradled his head to her breast.
Chapter 28
James lay on his side beside Bella, his heartbeat gradually slowing. He trailed his hand down her arm to rest it on her hip. When McHugh had knocked on his door and announced Bella was present, he had jumped out of his seat. And when he had spotted her standing in his chambers, his relief had been overwhelming. She was safe, thank the Lord, and he would never repeat his past mistake by allowing her to leave again.
He wanted to linger with her in his arms, pressed against his heated length, but he felt a pressing need to take her straightaway to Park Street. He kissed her nape, and sat.
“Let me help you.” Reaching for his handkerchief he made to cleanse her thighs of the evidence of their lovemaking.
“Let me.” She blushed, and he thought she had never looked so beautiful.
He dressed quickly, then helped her with her gown. With a firm hand on her elbow, he escorted her out of Lincoln’s Inn and to his carriage. As he was about to speak to his driver, Bella touched his sleeve.
“You’re concerned for Bobby, aren’t you?” Bella asked.
He was, but his utmost concern was for her safety.
“Yes, he is on my mind. But I plan to go to the Bow Street Magistrate’s Office and settle matters later,” he said.
“Go see him now, please.”
James shook his head. “I want you safely ensconced at Park Street first.”
“Then take me with you. Surely I’ll be safe in the magistrate’s building.”
He couldn’t argue with her logic. There wasn’t a safer building in all of London. He had been fraught with worry when Bella had disappeared in the city, and he was very much aware that she had needed coercing to stay by his side. He didn’t want her to reconsider her decision and slip away from his home while he left to aid Bobby.
“All right,” he conceded.
Turning back to the driver, James instructed the man to take them to Bow Street.
Bella settled across from him in the well-padded carriage and smoothed her skirts. “I believe Bobby’s innocent. Will he be ill treated?”
“I’m not worried about abusive treatment from the constables. Rather if Bobby is forced to spend the night in Newgate, there’s no telling what consequences he could suffer.”
Her eyes widened. “Surely they wouldn’t imprison him with the other felons? He’s just a boy.”
“The prisons are full of boys. Officials do not discriminate based on age or the type of crime. He could sleep beside a cold-blooded murderer for all they would care.”
“How horrible!”
At her fearful expression, James regretted his words. His intention had not been to disturb her, and after all she had experienced at the hands of Rupert Sinclair, he wanted to offer comfort, not additional worries.
Reaching out, he lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Please do not worry about Bobby’s legal dilemmas. I will take care of him,” James assured her. “I’ll also send a coach for Harriet and your belongings as soon as we depart Bow Street.”
They traveled in silence for the rest of the journey. As the driver maneuvered the elegant carriage through the city streets, Bella sat stiffly. Twice her lips parted as if to speak, but she turned away instead to gaze out the window. Her fingers clenched her skirts, and she nervously licked her full bottom lip.
His attraction for her was immediate and profound. It didn’t matter that he’d just made love to her in his chambers. That she had been glorious in her passion, urging him to take her as she’d clung to him, all liquid heat and soft feminine curves. That his own release had been intense, earth shattering. He wanted her again... .
Yet even now she appeared as skittish as a doe, as if she would throw open the carriage door and dart away. He knew she was reconsidering his proposition to stay with him at Park Street.
She’d felt obligated to protect him, for Christ’s sake, even at the expense of her safety. No one had ever cared for him in that way, not his father or his grandmother—those who should have. His gut response to Bella’s retreat, her desire to flee him, had left a vicious vulnerability in its wake. It made him uncomfortable, insecure ... fearful of his inability to hold onto her. Disturbing emotions that affected him in a way he’d not thought possible.
At a time he needed to focus with shrewdness and clarity, to hunt down the predator that threatened her, he was distracted at the prospect of her running away, of her leaving him.
The answer to his dilemma crept into his consciousness. There was only one way to bind her to him, to make her truly his....
This time she would be the one who needed convincing. He thought of the possibilities. He understood who he was—a seasoned barrister trained to analyze a challenge. He could only approach the deed as a well-thought-out legal strategy.
The carriage took a final turn and stopped at the corner. James jumped down and lowered the step for Bella. “It’s near the end of the day. I hope to catch the head magistrate before he departs.”
He placed her hand on his arm and proceeded down the street. He came to a stop, and Bella gazed up at the brick and stone building.
“There’s no sign,” she pointed out. “If I was coming on my own, I’d have no idea it housed the magistrate’s office.”
James winked. “Barristers don’t need a sign. We’re all familiar with Bow Street.”
He held the door for her, and Bella stepped inside. A massive guard stood in the corner of the marble vestibule. His tanned and weathered face broke into a grin when he spotted James.
“Last I heard you inherited a title. What would bring a duke here?” the guard asked.
James smiled in return. “Legal business, of course, Ralph. Is the magistrate in?”
“You’re in luck. He’s in his office. One of your colleagues is already with him.”
James halted. “Who?”
“The patent fellow in your chambers. Mr. Stone, I believe,” the man said.
What the devil is Brent doing here? James thought.
His bewilderment must h
ave shown for Bella said, “Perhaps Mr. Stone is helping Bobby?”
James didn’t answer and walked down the hall, Bella by his side. They turned the corner and continued down a corridor, passing offices with no identifying nameplates. The heels of Bella’s shoes echoed off the marble floor and bare walls as she kept pace beside him until James stopped at the last door.
Just as he raised his hand to knock, the door opened and Brent Stone emerged. Both men halted.
“James! What are you doing here?” Brent asked.
“I’m here to aid Bobby. He’s been arrested for theft.”
“Your stable boy?”
“Yes. Why are you here?” James asked.
“I’m on good terms with Magistrate Hadrian Sheridan; I thought to speak with him about the nefarious Rupert Sinclair.” Brent’s gaze shifted to Bella. “I was concerned for Mrs. Sinclair’s safety, you see.”
James eyed his friend. He couldn’t help but wonder if Brent’s interest was due to James’s comment in chambers that he’d never expected a patent barrister to be of assistance in a criminal matter.
Had James insulted Brent? Or was there more to the man’s presence at Bow Street?
“I’d like to speak with Sheridan myself,” James said.
Brent nodded. “Wait here.”
Brent stepped back inside Sheridan’s office. Muffled words were exchanged, and then Brent reappeared. Holding the door open with one hand, Brent motioned for James and Bella to enter.
Hadrian Sheridan was a large man with shoulders that appeared a mile wide, a fleshy face, and strands of dishwater-brown hair combed over a shiny scalp. He sat behind a walnut desk, smoking a pipe.
James and Brent waited for Bella to sit before occupying wooden chairs in front of Sheridan’s desk.
“I ran into the duke and Mrs. Sinclair outside your office,” Brent told the magistrate. “I explained my visit to unearth any helpful information regarding the whereabouts of Rupert Sinclair.”
Sheridan lowered his pipe. “Seems Sinclair’s been a busy man. Illegal exports of arms during England’s pivotal battles against Napoleon. Treasonous activity for certain.” The magistrate’s voice was gravelly, as if he had chewed on a mouthful of stones.
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