To her surprise a slow smiled curved his thin lips. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. “Indeed? What stage would you say this project is at?”
Sarah mentally frowned. Why was he so interested in something he had to know would never have any impact on the world? “It is with Mr. Latimer. As an engineer himself he has the ability to determine if a project is ready for the next step. And he has a number of contacts that could be helpful.”
Kemmer pursed his lips and set down his pen, lining it up exactly with a ruler and a notepad. He cleared his throat. “And what does Mr. Latimer think of your father’s project?”
She shrugged. “I cannot say. He has not spoken to me about the Rigdon’s Banknote Verification Device.”
“When do you believe he will—”
A knock sounded and the young man from the front desk opened the door. “My sincere apologies for interrupting, Mr. Kemmer.” He hurried over and whispered into Mr. Kemmer’s ear.
Kemmer paled.
He jumped to his feet and excused himself with a hurried nod. “My apologies, Miss Rigdon. This won’t take long. I will be back momentarily. Something has come up that requires my immediate attention.” The two men rushed out of the office, slamming the door behind them.
Sarah sat back and attempted to work through the conversation she’d just had.
She couldn’t see Kemmer in her father’s pub. How on earth had he found out what her father had said last night? And what had made him think her father’s contraption was worthy of being part of their small estate?
She continued to mull it over. Ten minutes later she still sat in the office, waiting for Kemmer to return. When he kept her waiting another five minutes she grew impatient and angry. His emergency appeared real, but if it took this long it would have only been polite to let her know and reschedule their meeting.
She stood. He probably would have done so for almost every other person in the city, but he knew she had no power or influence. Her mentioning his abominable behavior would not cause the slightest bit of a stir.
She stepped up to the bookshelves running the length of the office filled with tomes and tomes of accounting and tax texts. She couldn’t imagine him reading all of them, but they definitely looked impressive.
Sarah walked along the shelves until she came back to his workstation. Curiosity and caution warred inside her. She threw a quick glance at the door before stepping closer. Her heartbeat sped up. If Kemmer walked in on her standing like this she would be in trouble.
But she might find something that would explain his questions. Her mouth dry, she stepped behind the desk.
It was big, made from mahogany and elaborately carved. Stacks of papers filled the top to either side of the chair. She lifted them gently, but found nothing other than spreadsheets. In the far left corner was a crumpled £5 note.
She paused and studied it.
It didn’t look right. She moved closer, picked up the note and straightened it. Black smudged her gloves.
She barely suppressed her shout.
This note was a forgery. She knew enough about forgeries to spot one when she saw it.
Beneath the note were sprinkles of black powder. She pulled off a glove, tapped her fingertip into the dust and rubbed index finger and thumb together. It appeared to be ink. But not the kind of ink you could buy in any store.
Footsteps echoed outside the door. Sarah shoved the note into her purse and rushed back to her seat.
Not a second too soon.
The same moment her bottom touched down the door swung open. She turned to look back at Kemmer, struggling to keep her breathing calm.
“My sincere apologies, Miss Rigdon. I had not anticipated this to take this long.”
Sarah suddenly realized that she still had her glove in her hand and that both of them had black smudges. She pulled her purse onto her lap and slipped the second glove back on under its protection. “I understand, Mr. Kemmer.” She rose. “Is there anything else or have I cleared up this misunderstanding?” She clasped her hands together, her purse dangling from one wrist as a cover.
He studied her with a suspicious frown. “Mostly, yes. I expect to be informed the moment this Rigdon’s Banknote Verification Device has become functional.” His expression darkened. “Do not attempt to play me for a fool.”
Her brows rose. “I will make sure that you do.” She nodded at him and walked out of the office. His gaze bored into her back.
This was entirely more than it appeared.
Sarah kept her mien calm and nodded to the young man at the front desk before stepping out onto the street. Her thoughts spun in circles. It wasn’t completely unbelievable for a tax collector to have a fake note in his office. The ink could have come off the note.
But somehow she didn’t think so. The ink had felt different, as if something had been added to it. Something like the new chemicals the Bank of England had recently incorporated into its ink in an attempt to stop counterfeiting.
If her suspicions were true, Kemmer was far more dangerous than she had ever imagined.
Unfortunately she had no way to prove it.
And by taking the note from his office she might have set herself up as a target. She swallowed. Despite being clasped together, her fingers shook.
She wanted Archer and Warren. Even if she could not tell them what was going on, she could bathe in their presence and enjoy the feeling of freedom and safety they gave her.
Chapter Ten
Sarah strode along the road, the image of Archer and Warren at the forefront of her mind. A metal clinking pulled her out of her thoughts. Three street-cleans were on the road, tidying away the rubbish. She grimaced.
Their flat, metal bodies and numerous appendages did wonders for cleaning up the city, but they always made her think of oversized metal insects scuttling about, getting ready to take over London.
She skirted two, grimacing when one stretched out a metal limb and bumped her foot. She skipped out of the way, walked halfway down Stanford Road and turned down an alley until she reached the tucked-away back entrance.
The door tore open before she even had a chance to raise her hand and knock.
“What happened?” Archer’s hair was tousled, as if he’d pushed his hands through it numerous times. “Where have you been?” He scowled as he stepped outside.
She stiffened and straightened her shoulders. “I am not aware that I owe you an explanation of any kind about my day-to-day schedule. I informed you I would be late. As far as I can see it is later.”
“We worried when you didn’t use the coach, nor send us a message saying you didn’t need it.” Warren’s deep voice stroked across her senses as he joined them before the back door.
Some of her stiffness eased. “I apologize. I had an unexpected meeting this morning and forgot that the coach would be waiting for me.” She took Archer’s hands in hers. “It would have only been polite to let you know.”
He pulled her close and kissed her. “I don’t care about manners. I worried something had happened.”
Something had, but it wasn’t anything she could share with them.
Warren stepped beside her and pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Is there anything we can assist you with?”
She leaned into him, but shook her head. Right now she had to put her discovery to one side and move on.
Warren and Archer guided her inside and pulled the door closed behind them. Warren’s arms around her waist gave her a sense of safety. Archer still held her hand, the contact diminishing her shock.
“Let’s get you some tea and then we move on to the studio.” Warren gently tugged on her hip and she followed him.
A cup of tea would be nice. She looked back over her shoulder at Archer. “Have you had a chance to look at the Rigdon’s Banknote Verification Device yet?”
His brows shot up. Sarah spoke before he could reply. “I know you’re incredibly busy, but my father mentioned he had plans to present it to the Hall at the
next meeting.” Her eyes met his. “I would prefer for him to be aware of its capabilities before he did so.” She didn’t say that her father most likely would be humiliated and laughed at, but then she didn’t have to.
Understanding dawned on Archer’s face.
He nodded. “I am hoping to have some time in the next couple of days.”
The tight knot deep inside her loosened a little. Once everyone knew her father’s latest gadget was useless, Kemmer would hopefully move on to greener pastures.
The three of them walked into a big, sunny room at the back of the house. A large pot of tea sat on a small table beside a buffet of cold food, kept warm by a cog-powered heating plate. She let go of Warren and picked up a cup, turning to the men. “Who would like some tea?”
Warren took it out of her hands and Archer guided her to an oversized sofa. “Let us take care of you.”
He took her purse and set it aside.
Sarah sat and studied Archer as he prepared a cup of tea for her. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from describing in minute detail how she wanted it. Somehow it never tasted quite right when someone else prepared it. But he was attempting to make her feel better. She could suffer through one bad cup.
Warren put together a plate while Archer handed her the tea. She took a careful sip. Her brows shot up. “It’s perfect.” And it was. He had to have paid very close attention to her.
Butterflies tumbled through her stomach. No one had ever deemed her important enough for this kind of attention. This realization on top of her unsettling morning made her hands shake. The cup clattered, but luckily nothing spilled. Archer sat beside her, his shoulder and leg touching hers.
His strength and heat sank into her, loosening tense muscles. She nestled against him, had another sip of tea. Comfort and calm seeped into her.
Archer met her gaze when she looked up. “You are important to me. Of course I pay attention.”
Surprised he’d read her mind, she smiled. “Thank you.”
Tingles spread through her body and her heart drummed hard in her chest. Sarah had more tea, using that as a distraction to escape his all-seeing eyes. She wanted to believe that she meant something to him, to Warren. But what if she was just an amusement, an available diversion? They’d asked her to give them everything, told her that was the only way she could fully enjoy the experience. But neither man had given any indication that they were doing the same.
And what kind of future could she have with two men?
The last thought, added to everything else today, made her slightly ill.
She crammed her doubts and worries into a dark corner of her mind and turned to Warren. “What is the plan for today? You mentioned you weren’t quite certain if you would continue in charcoal or if you were ready to move to oil.”
The delight and excitement on his face turned her insides to molten lava. “I won’t know until we get to the studio.”
“But you’re the artist. You are in control of your process.”
Archer shook beside her. One look confirmed it was with suppressed laughter.
She frowned. “Did I say something funny?”
Both men shook their heads. “Not really, sweet.” Warren picked up her hand and kissed each knuckle. “Archer is laughing his head off because he knows how little control I have. I used to plan out when and how to capture a subject, but invariably something would change and all my plans fell apart.” He shrugged. “Now I listen to my inner voice and wait until I’m about to start. Then I will know what direction to take.”
“You forgot to mention that when things don’t go your way you grow very, very unhappy and have to share that mood with the rest of the house.”
Sarah shook her head. “I am not sure if I could work like that. When I assist my father we have a plan and follow it step by step. Of course there are some detours, but we always return to the plan.”
“You and your father are engineers and have to follow certain steps to ensure something functional comes out in the end. I’m an artist, I am not necessarily dependent on what I did before.”
He raised the plate he’d filled. “Would you like something to eat?”
Sarah nodded and over the next hour they enjoyed the repast and chatted about process and the difference between science and art.
After a lull in the conversation Archer rose and held out his hand to her. “Are you ready to get started?”
Her nipples hardened. Sarah took his hand and rose. “Yes.” A wave of passion raced through her body and her heartbeat jumped.
Warren took her other hand and they walked to the studio.
Due to her meeting with Kemmer she wore her corset. The one padded on the inside so she didn’t require a chemise. It was easy enough to unhook the front and slip out of it, but she wanted to explore with her men and try something new.
She squeezed their hands and released them. Then she turned so she faced them both and began to unbutton her blouse. Sarah had to bite the inside of her cheek to not burst into laughter at their expressions. They literally froze in place, their eyes widening.
“Will you help me with my corset?” She couldn’t contain her smile when they rushed to her side. “It only needs to be unhooked, don’t worry about the laces.” The laces were just perfectly tied for her to dress and undress without requiring assistance.
Archer stepped behind her and gently pulled her blouse off her shoulders. She hadn’t undone the cuffs, so for a moment her arms ended up tied behind her back. He made no move to free them. Instead he wrapped his hand around both of her wrists and held them. For some reason Sarah could not fathom she had to swallow to moisten her suddenly dry mouth and her heart rate went through the roof.
He kissed her neck, then nipped her sensitive earlobe. She twitched as if to move and he tightened his grip. A low moan escaped her.
“Ah, interesting.” His breath brushed her ear and his voice seeped into every cell of her body.
“Warren, undress our lady.” His voice deepened and roughened. His demand was sharp.
Warren’s brows rose. With a smile he moved in front of her. He kissed her, his lips teasing hers before sinking deep. She wanted to raise her arms and twine them around his neck, but she couldn’t. A groan worked itself up her throat.
Archer kissed his way across her nape and shoulders, giving her sharp nips in between. And at no point did he loosen his grip on her wrists.
Warren caressed the opposite side of her neck until he reached her décolleté. Slowly he raised his head and lifted his hands to the first hook on her corset.
Sarah’s breathing grew uneven. He didn’t release her gaze.
With each hook the tightness around her chest should have eased, but instead it increased. Her breathing hastened until she panted.
Finally he undid the last hook. The corset popped open and slid down her hips. He caressed her chest, his finger circling her breast and then moving closer to her nipples. Her peaks tightened further. She couldn’t look away from Warren’s hands, waiting with desperation for him to cup her breasts and pull her nipples into the wet heat of his mouth.
But he didn’t, driving her crazy.
Sarah bit her lip. Her head dropped against Archer’s chest when he pulled her arms back. She was slightly off balance and attempted to find her footing again.
Archer strengthened his grip. “Trust me.”
Her breath caught.
Then the tension she always carried deep inside her released. Sarah leaned into his hold and trusted him to catch her.
“Good girl.” Archer tilted her head to the side and kissed her.
She moaned when Warren continued to tease her. “Do it,” she mumbled.
Warren chuckled, his breath stroking across her oversensitized nipples. “Do what, sweet?”
Archer rubbed the fingertips of his free hand down her nape and then around her shoulders. His touch was so light she had to focus hard to capture it fully.
This was supposed to be a lit
tle bit of teasing on her part, test her seductive powers. Instead they had pulled her into the fiery vortex of passion and desire within seconds.
Enough is enough.
“For goodness sake, finish it!”
Laughter echoed around her, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t planned for it to go this far, but now it had she wanted everything.
Archer released her wrists for a moment and undid the cuffs of her blouse. He tugged the garment off her and recaptured her before she had an opportunity to move. He nibbled on an ear. His free hand flattened on her shoulder blade. He moved his palm down her rib cage and then across her stomach. His touch varied between light teasing and slightly heavier with no rhyme or reason, making it impossible for her to predict what he would do next.
Warren leaned forward and sucked the tip of her breast into his mouth while his hand taunted the other nipple.
Finally. She arched into him.
Archer moved his hand and undid the clasp on her skirt. It dropped to the ground. The underskirts followed in short order until all that was left were her underpants.
Then those went as well.
Warren moved between her breasts, taunting and tormenting her nipples with sucks, licks and nips. More and more wetness gathered between her legs. The need grew nearly unbearable.
Archer gently nudged one foot with his and she widened her stance. He pushed through her curls and cupped her quim. At the same time he lifted the arms he had in his grasp a little higher. Lightning-hot sparks shot through her body and once again she leaned into him.
He spread her lower lips apart and stroked through the moisture. Her thighs stiffened. Her body tensed, longing for his touch to deepen.
He had her restrained. Goose bumps ran across her body.
Archer rubbed his wet fingers over her clitoris. Warren sucked one nipple and pressed it against the roof of his mouth.
Sarah’s eyes dropped shut. Her head fell back and noises escaped her mouth she had never heard before. The pleasure built inside her with every touch, every caress. Grew bigger and bigger until it became nearly too much. But the thought of stopping was even more painful.
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