In the Barrister's Bed (20 page)

Read In the Barrister's Bed Online

Authors: Tina Gabrielle

At the end it was she who lowered herself onto his throbbing shaft. Inch by delicious inch she took him inside. She clutched his shoulders, and his hands clamped about her hips. He let her set the rhythm, slowly at first, then more urgently. Her hair was a silken curtain about her shoulders, her eyes closed, her breasts bouncing as she rode him.
Sweat beaded on his brow as he watched her, watched her take her pleasure and pleasure him in return. She was all slick need and fiery hotness. He lay back and watched as she peaked, taking him even deeper as her inner muscles tightened, urging him on to his own explosive climax. He breathed in deep soul-drenching drafts as she stole his will. There was nothing to stop it. He closed his eyes and surrendered.
Chapter 21
Bella stretched before the fireplace and studied James’s face. “Did you know we were to be intimate here?”
James grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “No. I thought to dine here and to show you how to play snooker. I’m leaving the table behind after all. But I’ll admit this was a much more enjoyable use of the room.”
He stood and helped her to her feet. He pulled on his shirt and trousers, then played the lady’s maid and assisted her with the tiny row of buttons on the back of her gown.
He finished with the last button, and she turned in his arms. “Thank you for an unforgettable evening,” she whispered.
“It is I who should be thanking you. Should you need anything, I can easily be found at Lincoln’s Inn or at the old duke’s home on Park Street. London is not far from Hertfordshire.”
A hot ache grew in her throat, and she could only nod.
At her silence, his expression grew serious. Cupping her chin in his hand, he raised her eyes to his. “Bella, after the attack in the stables, I feel compelled to ask you one last time. Are you certain no one is following you?”
She swallowed. “Yes, I’m certain.”
His dropped his hand. “Very well. My offer remains sincere. Promise you will come to me should you find yourself in trouble.” Once more, his face displayed an uncanny awareness as though he could read her mind and discover her most hidden secrets.
Heart fluttering wildly, she wondered if he suspected the truth, then reminded herself that he was a barrister, trained to question every scenario.
“I promise to seek you out should anything befall me that I cannot manage on my own.” The truth. With Rupert gone and in hiding, she had the rights to Wyndmoor Manor and could handle her future. Even if it meant harboring this loneliness for the rest of her life.
“May I escort you to your bedchamber?”
“Only to the door. I do believe Harriet would faint if she found us together.”
He winked. “Do not underestimate her.”
James took her elbow and they walked side by side through the halls and up the staircase. He halted at her door, brushed a quick kiss across her lips, then bid her good night.
 
 
Bella sat at the dressing table in her sitting room and stared in the mirror. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled, her lips red and swollen from James’s kisses. Lifting a hand, she touched her lips with her fingertips. Her eyes fluttered closed as she pictured their lovemaking.
James had made her feel desirable and worthy of his every kiss, his every glorious touch. If she lived to be one hundred years old, she would never forget tonight. Her heart ached under her breast, and she could no longer deny the truth. She had fallen in love with the Duke of Blackwood.
If only they had met before she was married, before he had inherited the title, before they had both desired Wyndmoor Manor.
She sighed. There was no sense wondering if. She was thankful she had experienced him as a man and thankful she had title to the property. She was an independent woman at last. She was free to write and live her life on her own terms at last.
She opened the rectangular box and stared at James’s deed. Going to her mother’s trunk in the corner of the room, she placed the deed inside along with her own copy complete with Sir Reeves’s scrawled signature.
The ruby necklace lay cool against her throat, and she impulsively decided to sleep with the jewels tonight as a reminder of what she and James had shared. Harriet would arrive soon and prepare her bath. Bella knew better than to attempt to hide tonight’s events from the old woman. She could not help but notice the rubies, but even more telling, Harriet would see the glow in Bella’s face.
She left the sitting room and entered the adjoining bedchamber. One of the maids must have already been there for the coverlet was drawn back.
Bella took a step forward, then froze.
A shiver of fear raced down her spine.
There was a dagger thrust into her pillow, pinning a note in place.
She pulled the dagger from the pillow, causing a burst of feathers to float above the coverlet. Her hand trembled as she read the note.
Bella,
Meet me at midnight tomorrow in the back gardens with the ledger. Do not fail me. The duke lives. My next shot, whether for him or another, will be true.
Rupert had not even bothered to sign the note. Bella looked frantically about. The windows were shut and locked. There were no signs of forced entry. So how had Rupert entered?
Was it plausible that Rupert had walked in through the front door?
She felt as if every drop of blood had drained from her head. She had allowed herself to believe that Rupert wouldn’t risk his neck by returning.
She had been terribly wrong. His desire for the ledger outweighed any risks. But the trouble was she had not found the ledger.
What was she to do?
Could she prepare a fake ledger? She swiftly dismissed the notion. She’d never recall all the transactions. She could beg Rupert’s understanding, tell him the ledger was not in her possession, but she knew he would never believe her.
She bit her lip until it throbbed like her pulse. She had foolishly believed that her future was secure. James had gifted her with his deed, which would allow her to remain at Wyndmoor and write to her heart’s content. She had the memory of James’s lovemaking to warm her on the cold nights ahead, and a contract for the
Times
to keep her mind busy.
But such respite was not to be. Rupert’s message was clear. He had shot and come close to killing the duke. Whether Rupert had panicked and fired unintentionally was not relevant. The fact that he’d returned proclaimed how desperate he was to retrieve the ledger. Next time he would kill. Who his victim would be, she could only guess.
None of it mattered. Only one option remained.
The door opened wide, and Harriet stood in the entrance.
Bella turned slowly, the dagger still clutched in her hand.
Harriet froze, mouth open. Then her eyes flew from the dagger to the blood-red rubies at Bella’s throat. “What happened?”
“Help me pack. We’re leaving for London.”
James sat at the escritoire in his bedchamber and scrawled a letter to the dowager duchess. The content of the letter was brusque, the tone coolly impersonal—one of a barrister addressing a court. The gist of the letter: He would leave Wyndmoor Manor immediately, return to London in two days’ time, and permanently move into the mansion on Park Street. Advise the servants of the new duke’s arrival.
Not for the first time that evening, he acknowledged that his feelings for Bella had become complicated and the thought of returning to London held little appeal. Yet duty called, and he knew that he must return and conclude his business dealings at Lincoln’s Inn, deal with his grandmother’s demands, and confront Gregory. At least one item was certain—Bella would remain at Wyndmoor Manor. Gifting her with the deed ensured that. Her desire for the property had been utmost in her mind, and he need not worry she’d disappear and he wouldn’t be able to find her.
He could wait until the time was right, until he heard back from his investigator regarding Bella, until all his business matters were settled and his inheritance properly claimed, before returning here and settling things between them. One night of lovemaking, no matter how extraordinary, had not satisfied this craving....
Setting aside the pen, he was folding the piece of foolscap when the door opened. He turned, expecting Coates.
Bella.
His gut clenched at the sight of her. She was still in the amethyst gown with his rubies draped about her neck. Gone were her pearl combs, and her glorious hair framed her exquisite features and green, catlike eyes.
His attraction was immediate and total. Desire and possessiveness raged in his blood. Had she come to spend their remaining night together?
He stood. She shut the door and stepped forward.
But something was not right.
Through the searing lust he was slow to register the anxious look on her face, as if she was holding a mountain of raw emotion in check. Tension radiated from her, and she clutched her hands behind her back.
His initial excitement at her arrival in his bedchamber became concern. “Is something amiss?”
Coming forward, she extended her hand to place a document on his escritoire.
His deed to Wyndmoor Manor.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said. “I believe you should have the place. Does your offer still stand to pay me for the property?”
Something inside him shifted. Desire waned. Instinct and intuition reared.
“Why the change of heart?”
Her voice was flat. “I’ve reconsidered. It doesn’t feel right. The place reminds you of your father, the old duke. You should be the rightful owner. I’ve decided that I’d rather go to London.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “London? Whatever happened to your writing aspirations? You had led me to believe that being an independent landowner allowed you to finally live your life the way you chose.”
“I can write in London. I’ll be closer to my editor at the
Times
... . May even be able to meet him.”
“But that would be fruitless, would it not? The editor believes you are a man.”
She paled a shade. He fought the desire to shake her until she confessed the truth. It was no longer a question of
if
she was in trouble, but
what
the trouble was. What had happened in an hour’s time?
“Will you honor your offer?” she asked again.
He walked toward her with measured steps, near enough that he could reach out and touch her should he wish to do so. He raised a hand to finger a curl at her cheek. She sucked in a breath, her green eyes pools of appeal. He detected her shiver of desire, but another emotion overpowered it—fear. It oozed from her—like one of his criminal defendants prior to testifying on the stand before an angry jury.
He quickly considered the turn of events. If she wasn’t at Wyndmoor Manor, then she would be closer to him in London. He’d have to alter his plans....
A thin chill hung at the edge of his words. “I’ll honor my offer on one condition. You accompany me to London tomorrow.”
“I accept.”
Her answer was too quickly given. She was running from something ... or
someone.
He wouldn’t ask again. He had attempted to extract the truth from her before, but to no avail. He would now resort to the legal strategies with which he was more familiar.
“Thank you,” she said. “It seems I’m in your debt once again.”
“Go, Bella. Go now and pack.”
As soon as she departed, James went in search of Bobby. Well past midnight, he found the stable lad in his bed in the servant’s quarters. James shook his shoulder.
“The horses?” Bobby woke with a start.
James shook his head. “The horses are fine, Bobby. I’ve come on a different matter. Bella and Harriet will accompany us to London tomorrow. The women will ride in my carriage as I prefer to ride Maximus. When we get to London the women plan to part ways with me. I’m expected at the mansion on Park Street. Bella’s whereabouts, however, are unknown. I want you to stay with her. I want to know where they end up. Understand?”
“Will she protest?”
“It’s no matter. Follow her, if need be.”
Bobby grinned. “It won’t be a problem, Your Grace. I grew up in the London streets and know my way around like the back of my hand. She’ll never spot me.”

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