Chapter 27
Bella entered a common room lined with rows of file cabinets. A slender, dark-haired clerk sat behind a desk.
“Good afternoon,” she said. “My name is Bella Sinclair. I’m looking for—”
The clerk’s eyes widened behind thick, wire-rimmed spectacles, and he jumped to his feet. “Yes, of course! Mr. Devlin ... I mean His Grace will want to see you. Please wait here.”
He rushed down the hall and knocked on a closed door. Seconds later the door swung fully open.
“Bella!”
James’s voice.
He strode forward, and she was struck by the fierce look on his handsome face. His meticulously cut navy coat emphasized his powerful shoulders and made his blue eyes appear the color of a stormy sky.
She was engulfed in a pair of wonderfully strong arms. His distinct masculine scent, his warmth, the brush of his breath against her cheek ... all the emotions she had unsuccessfully tried to keep at bay rushed through her with a fierce longing. Her will melted like hot wax.
“Thank God!” he murmured. “Where have you been?”
She pulled back to look in his eyes. “I’m not here for a social call. Dire circumstances have arisen.”
Sapphire eyes sharpened. James held her away from him as his gaze traveled her from head to toe. “Dire circumstances? Are you well?”
“Yes. Yes. It’s not me, but Bobby. He was arrested for theft at a Covent Garden marketplace this afternoon.”
His expression eased. “He’ll be with the constable. I’ll see to him soon enough. Right now I want to speak with you.”
She shook her head. “I must head back. Now that I know you will see to Bobby, I must leave.”
James’s grip on her wrist tightened. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not leaving my sight anytime soon.”
A sliver of alarm raced down her spine. “Don’t be ridiculous. Harriet is waiting—”
“Come with me.” He pulled her behind him and across the hall into the room he had emerged from when she had arrived. He kicked the door shut behind them with a booted foot and slid the bolt into place, locking them inside.
She wrenched her wrist free. “Your Grace!”
“Don’t worry, Bella. The chambers are vacant, and McHugh is leaving to file pleadings at the Old Bailey.”
She whirled around and breathed deeply, hoping to calm her traitorous emotions and the tingling in the pit of her stomach. She glanced at her surroundings, suddenly curious to see where James had spent so much of his time.
Her eyes took in the tall bookshelves heaped with legal volumes. A large rosewood pedestal desk with drawers was stacked with papers and colorful stone paperweights. Behind the desk was a stone fireplace, and resting beside the mantel clock were the brass scales of justice. A sideboard sat beneath a tall window on which crystal decanters and scrolled silver candlesticks were arranged. On the opposite wall was a well-padded sofa beside a mahogany-top writing table with brass handles that could be wheeled close for convenience.
She could picture him in his office, his booted feet propped on the edge of the great desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he read and studied case law.
She turned to find him watching her. “Do you miss it?” she asked softly.
He understood her meaning. “Very much. I doubt I will make a good duke.”
The words tumbled out easily. “You’ll make a wonderful duke.”
He stepped close and fingered a curl at her nape. “You can stop pretending. I know everything about Rupert Sinclair.”
She sucked in a breath, not entirely certain if her response was from the brush of his bold fingers or his words. “However did you learn—”
“I know.”
Anxiety spurted through her, and she forced herself to breathe. “I see. So you hired a man to look into my past then?” she said.
His full lips curved in a smile. “There’s no sense in my denying it. You remember Tom Jones, don’t you?”
“Your school friend? Heavens! You can be cunning.”
She wondered just how much James knew. “What did your hired man tell you?”
His eyes sharpened. “You want to know what I’ve discovered? I know your husband and his twin brother were engaged in treasonous exports to the French. I know Rupert Sinclair is searching for the incriminating evidence, and he believes you have it.”
To her dismay, her voice broke slightly. “I do not have the ledger he wants. He’s convinced Roger had hidden it in my belongings without my knowledge. Harriet and I have searched, but to no avail.”
“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 taste 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.