Flawless (34 page)

“You know why.” He touched her cheek. “But we can put that behind us now, all the mistakes and mistrust.”

She looked toward the floor but not before Miles caught the blush tinting her cheeks. Was it something he’d said? Or just a small reminder that she was terribly new to this sort of play?

Viv stood away from the desk. She nudged his knees apart with more boldness than he would’ve imagined, then stepped into the V of his open legs. The gentle pressure of her hands on the outside of his thighs urged him to draw her in close. Miles watched for any sign of resistance.

She still came to him willingly. Of her own initiative. He could almost believe it now.

His heart was a clockwork bomb in his chest, ready to burst. He tensed the muscles of his inner thighs until she fit flush against his body. But the way she arched slightly, pressing her bosom against his chest—that was all Viv. Time slowed until every nuance of breath and motion became a ballet of seduction. She smoothed her hands up his torso, lingering a few extra beats when her fingertips brushed across the fabric concealing his nipples.

Her boldness reminded him that his own hands had fallen useless to his sides. Like discovering the perfect tool for the job, he cupped her nape with one, her lower back with the other.

Her lips parted. She licked the lower one.

Miles wanted to kiss her like he wanted to keep breathing—or breathe again, one day, when the shock and wonder had worn off—but he was enjoying her initiative too much.

They were so near that the warmth of his own exhales fanned off her face and back to his. “How far will you go today, Vivie?”

“Farther than yesterday.”

“That’s enough to build a future on.”

“Yes, it is.”

Their bodies had already become reacquainted, pressed together from knee to chest, and now their mouths played eager games. Miles tasted the bitter sweetness of the tea she’d swallowed. He no longer gave a damn about artful curls and coils as he dug his fingers down to her scalp. Pins pinged as they hit the floor. He luxuriated in that silky softness as the scent of her, so much more potent now, unraveled his control.

He squeezed his legs tighter. Her slim body fit against his, bringing her stomach, tightly bound in a corset prison, right against his aching groin. He would find no relief there, but he ground against her anyway. A little moan vibrated out of her and into him. He answered by taking the kiss deeper, pushing his tongue inside. She’d given permission. Now he would have all of her.

Banging footsteps climbed the stairs at a frantic pace. Viv jumped out of Miles’s arms and away from the desk—their would-be bed. The change was too sudden for him to absorb. Why were his arms empty? Why weren’t they still kissing? The ledgers would wait as they made love. He was certain of it.

But Mr. Kato’s appearance at the top of the stairs forestalled any hope of an afternoon tryst. Viv’s face was bright
red. The bodice of her gown was rumpled, the lace crushed. Her hair was a glorious mass of snarls. Even then, at the height of what should have been her embarrassment, she merely smiled as if greeting a preferred acquaintance. The strength she had always applied to the most demanding social situations radiated from her now—brazening out even the most compromised position.

For him? Dare he believe it possible?

Miles grinned past his disbelief. Even so, they’d still need a lock for the door at the bottom of the stairs.

“Lord Bancroft.”

The urgency in Mr. Kato’s voice broke through Miles’s haze. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Come quickly, please. Constables are downstairs with Mr. Elden. He’s demanding Adam’s arrest.”

Viv’s head spun as she
watched Miles snatch up his whip. “Arrest him? On what grounds?”

Mr. Kato smoothed a hand over his shaven head, expression solemn. “That I do not know, my lady.”

Quickly following the men down the stairs, Viv didn’t have time to rearrange her hair. She used her fingers to comb through the worst of the tangles, then clapped her bonnet back atop her head. Good enough for now.

Adam arrested? This had the potential to get ugly—just when she had been relishing an otherwise thrilling encounter with Miles. Her happy fantasy, simply being with her husband. Trusting him with all she craved and imagined and needed. Perhaps she should have been embarrassed by
Mr. Kato’s interruption. She would have been in years past. But if Miles promised to be her partner in all things, she had no reason to fear. He would protect her reputation as much as her body and her heart.

That she believed such a thing now, without reservation, lit her with joy. But what if Elden went through with his threats to uncover her past?

To bring those secrets out into the open . . .

Nothing she had accomplished as a woman of good society would matter. And without quality connections, she would be unable to make her father’s venture a success. A whore’s daughter in charge of a diamond brokerage? No businessman with higher aspirations would forgive such stigma, not without being offered discounts too deep to bear.

Doing her best to keep her panic out of sight, she shunted those fears away. Miles held one hand while he gripped the coiled whip with the other. He strode to the ground floor and found Adam panting, his hands clutching Mr. Smets’s desk as he caught his breath. James and Franc stood at the door with their rifles ready. Mr. Kato joined them. Shouts clamored in from the street.

No one would get in. For now.

“What happened?” Miles asked.

“Got caught in Elden’s office. Take these, quickly.” Adam handed over a wad of papers, which Viv tucked out of sight in one of the desk drawers. “Elden’s outside with six of his armed bodyguards, Mr. Mansfield, and three additional constables. James and Franc held them off just long enough for me to get inside.”

“Mr. Nolan, please stay here with my wife.” The determined set of his jaw was one Viv had never known when they lived together in England, but it was all too familiar in Kimberley. He was going to intervene. The thought tightened a fist around her heart.

She was dreaming. A bad dream. Worse than the echoes of old nightmares. He would walk into danger against a man who held a mile-wide grudge and a strong reason to see them fail. “That’s not fair.”

“Little of this is.”

“Wait!” She grabbed his arm. “Miles, think about it. Any man will be less likely to pull the trigger with a woman at the center of an argument.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I can talk to Elden. He’ll listen to me. He likes to think he can manipulate me, so let him try. We
cannot
let him have Adam or those papers. Whatever they contain is obviously worth all this commotion. We can make some sort of deal.” Tears cast a watery curtain over her vision. She sniffed and blinked them away, straightening the brim of her bonnet. “I’m not leaving you, Miles. Not this time.”

He gripped the hilt of his whip and bit his back teeth until his jaw muscles bulged. “You’ll stay right with me?” he asked at last.

“Right with you. I promise.”

T
he crowd had bulged to
two dozen men. Immigrant, entrepreneur, and African alike jostled for a better view of the ad hoc proceedings. Across the street, a fair distance away, women had gathered as well. Just beneath one of the brokerage windows stood a boy of maybe thirteen who must have wanted to see the action up close. His upper arm was stringy with lean muscle and long bones.

Viv caught his attention, then asked, “How much money will you make watching this through the bars?”

“Nothing, ma’am.”

“Exactly.” She pulled a coin purse from her pocket and tossed him a silver half crown. “That’s a down payment. Go find a surgeon. Tell him Lady Bancroft will pay you each a month’s wages if you bring him here.”

The boy’s eyes widened. He stuffed the coin in his pocket and took off running toward the hospital.

Despite a stomach full of watery fear, Viv joined the men at the front door.

It’s never easy, but you can make it look that way.

She took Miles’s hand and they walked outside together. Shoulder to shoulder, with Mr. Kato just behind, she stood with him before their well-heeled opponent. James and Franc fanned out on either side, their weapons raised.

“Ah, my lord and lady,” said Elden. “Just who I expected to see here, although I am rather impressed you brought her along, Bancroft. Quite the devoted little wife you have.”

“Quite.”

“Would you mind awfully, Mr. Elden,” Viv said sweetly, “if your people put away their guns? Then our men could as well, and everyone will breathe easier as we talk.”

He grinned tightly. “Of course, my lady. Anything for such an esteemed woman.”

A flash of fear made her skin bristle. What was that tone of voice? That gleam in his eyes? But he signaled his bodyguards, and Mr. Mansfield did the same for his constables. Miles put his hand on Franc’s rifle and said, “Enough now. Time to see if words will work instead.”

The hulking Belgian hesitated. “My lord?”

“I have little else by way of skills to recommend me. Let the fault be his, if any shot is to be fired.”

“Not the most reassuring scenario,” Viv grated out. But Franc and James did as their master demanded.

“Now what seems to be the issue, Mr. Elden?” Miles asked. “Surely we can resolve any dispute you have with my employee.”

“You’re certain of that? Because it seems to me your
man is guilty of theft and needs to be punished accordingly. There’s very little to dispute.”

Viv angled the brim of her hat against the sun. She noticed how Miles kept his body between hers and the bulk of the crowd, while still permitting himself a clean line of attack against Elden. But good heavens, if he threw a punch—would anyone keep from firing?

“Theft of what, if you please?” she asked.

“I don’t need to answer to you, Lady Bancroft, no matter your title. Your man is guilty and I’ll see him whipped for his crimes.”

“I’ll see you whipped first,” Miles said, deadly soft. “I even came prepared.”

Viv yanked on his wrist, holding him as she would a leashed attack dog. Her restraint wouldn’t last long. “Sir, Mr. Nolan is paid exceptionally well. I know because I find that His Lordship’s generosity borders on indulgence. Why would he have reason to steal? Surely you’ve made some manner of mistake.”

Elden crossed his arms. His smirk sent a shiver up her back. “No mistake. And if you’d like to discuss how your brokerage conducts research on its competition, I’ll be more than happy to. Your choice.”

Miles had calmed, at least for the moment. His brain was a beautifully devious device. “I think we both know discretion is best for all parties involved. Unless you’d like to reveal certain . . . acquisitions.”

She released Miles’s arm and stepped nearer to their enemy as he blanched. How had she ever seen anything different
in looking upon such a smug, scheming rat? “No need for that sort of talk, my lord. I’m sure Mr. Elden will be willing to come to an arrangement.”

Interest darkened his icy blue eyes. His pupils grew larger. “An arrangement? Of what sort?”

Viv wet her lips. “Let’s send everyone back to their afternoon’s activities and we’ll come to terms.”

“You don’t dictate this matter, my lady.”

Miles affected his most haughty tone. “Come now, Elden. Street-side is not the place for negotiations between gentlemen. You do believe yourself a gentleman, am I right?”

Elden’s top hat shaded much of his reaction to the jibe, but Viv felt confident that Miles would soak up every detail. After mulling his options, Elden spoke briefly to Mr. Mansfield. The constable eyed all the participants with some mix of resignation and suspicion. Viv had no doubt he was capable of being a good man, but it had yet to be seen whether he could remain one in the face of Kimberley’s rampant bribery and the free flow of diamonds.

“Very well,” Mansfield said at last. “I know my place here. Men, we’ll leave these citizens to settle their own differences. As for Nolan”—he pointed toward the front door—“he doesn’t leave town until all parties are satisfied. But the first shot fired will end my willingness to let you regulate yourselves.”

The constable and his men herded the onlookers away from Christie Brokerage. Miles said something hushed to Franc and James, who aided in keeping the citizens back and away. Only Mr. Kato remained, as did two of Elden’s
bodyguards, as the interested parties entered the brokerage house. Adam was nowhere to be seen, perhaps having taken shelter in one of the upstairs rooms—or even in the crawl space filled with carbons.

But at least all weapons had been removed or holstered. At least no one would be harmed. Viv finally felt as if she could breathe, although the negotiations had just begun.

“So, my lady,” Elden said. “You’ve had your way. Now what?”

“What charges do you propose against Mr. Nolan?”

“Eustis here caught him sneaking out of my office. I want to have this building and his person searched to assure nothing of value was taken.”

Viv scoffed. “You can hardly expect us to open our doors to you for a random search of all
our
paperwork.”

“He’s a thief and should be jailed. And the both of you should be labeled as the worst sort of scheming competition.”

She glared at him from beneath the brim of her bonnet. “And what of the Opsberger Brothers’? Or Fellman’s? Or any of the other brokerages you’re quietly acquiring? What of the means you’ve used to pressure them into selling? Your reputation could suffer terribly if we reveal to the community what we know.”

A tic twitched below his left eye. She hoped very much that Miles was taking notes. “What do you propose?” he asked.

“A poker game.”

Whether or not he caught Elden’s flicker of hesitation,
Miles must have understood her meaning. His bearing changed. Gone was the belligerent for whom wearing a whip seemed a natural complement to his lean physique and intimidating height. His posture turned negligent. His face softened. In his place was the man she remembered from so long ago. At that moment, Miles, Lord Bancroft, appeared as bored as if he’d spent the afternoon watching Viv’s garden sleep through the winter.