“Perhaps we might continue this very enlightening conversation concerning the progress of our investigation over a glass of brandy?” he suggested.
“Excellent notion.”
He smiled and raised the hood of her cloak back up over her head to conceal her tousled hair. She pulled the folds of the garment around her to hide the unhooked bodice. An edgy anticipation aroused his senses like a potent drug.
Somehow he managed a reasonably dignified exit from the carriage. Virginia’s hand trembled when he assisted her down to the pavement, but she appeared outwardly composed, as always.
He paid the driver and waved the vehicle on its way. The need to get Virginia into the house and out of her clothes was almost overpowering, but he took a moment to survey the darkened street, looking for shadows within shadows.
One particular shadow shifted in the front area below the steps of Number Seven. A hand appeared out of the darkness, waving enthusiastically.
Virginia stifled a small yelp and peered into the inky depths. “What in the world? There’s a man down there.”
“Good evening, Uncle Owen,” Matt said.
“Where’s Tony?” Owen asked.
“He’s in the garden, watching the kitchen entrance,” Matt said.
“You’re both supposed to be in the attic of the empty house across the street, damn it,” Owen said.
“This is closer to the muffins and the coffee, sir,” Matt said.
“What muffins and coffee?”
Virginia looked at him. “Owen, who is this?”
“My apologies, Virginia. Allow me to introduce my nephew, Matthew Sweetwater. He and his brother have been keeping an eye on this house for several days. Matt is the one who told me that you had not returned from the Hollister mansion the other night. Matt, this is Miss Dean.”
“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Matt said respectfully.
“Mr. Sweetwater,” Virginia responded automatically. She looked at Owen. “You said you had put watchers on my house, but I didn’t realize they were your nephews.”
“Didn’t I mention that?” He took the key from her hand and opened the front door. “Must have slipped my mind. I’ve been somewhat preoccupied lately. Matt, what did you mean about getting closer to the muffins and coffee?”
“The housekeeper came out onto the front steps earlier this evening and signaled to us.”
“Oh, dear,” Virginia said. “She
saw
you?”
“Mrs. Crofton is a very observant woman,” Matt said. “We realized she had spotted us, so we crossed the street to introduce ourselves. She invited us in for muffins and coffee.”
“So much for instructing you in stealth and camouflage,” Owen said. “Keeping watch on this house was supposed to be part of your training.”
“Did you tell Mrs. Crofton that you were guarding the house?” Virginia asked, very anxious now.
“Yes, ma’am,” Matt said.
“She must have been horrified,” Virginia said.
“She didn’t seem horrified, ma’am,” Matt said. “She left extra muffins and coffee in the kitchen for us after she went upstairs to bed. Gave us a key. Told us to make ourselves at home.”
“She’ll probably give notice in the morning,” Virginia said. “I’m certain her previous employer did not have the sort of personal life that required men to watch her house.”
“What’s done is done,” Owen said. He opened the door and urged Virginia into the hall. “Forget my nephews and your housekeeper.”
“Easy for you to say. I’m sure, given the Sweetwater status and fortune, that you and your family don’t have any problem obtaining good housekeepers.”
Owen got the door closed. “No, we don’t. Most of our staff have been with us for years. Their parents worked in our parents’ households. The positions have descended down through the family.”
“How convenient,” she grumbled.
He peeled off his coat and hung it on a hook. “If you need a new housekeeper, I’ll see that you get one. Now, if you don’t mind, I have something else I’d rather discuss.”
“What?”
“This.”
He trapped her against the nearest wall, pushed back the hood of the cloak and kissed her until her eyes heated and she was once again breathless. Only then did he raise his head.
“Right,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “We’ll discuss my staffing problems some other time.”
“Definitely some other time.”
He scooped her up, the skirts of her gown and the frothy petticoats spilling over his arms. Angling her so that she would not bang her head or her knees against the wall, he carried her down the dimly lit hall and into the study.
The curtains were drawn across the window, casting the room in deep shadow. The only light was the narrow wedge of illumination that came from the sconce in the hall.
He set Virginia on her feet and turned up one of the lamps so that it burned very low. He closed and locked the door, intensely aware of the flaring heat in his veins. When he looked back at Virginia she smiled. Her eyes were fathomless pools of promise. She did not say a word, but the energy of her desire flashed invisibly in the atmosphere.
She stepped out of her dainty evening shoes, raised her hands and undid the strings that bound her cloak at her throat. The thick woolen folds fell away, revealing her disordered clothing. He caught his breath.
“Virginia,” he whispered. For a moment he could only look at her. Everything inside him tightened with longing.
He shrugged out of his evening coat, removed his waistcoat and dropped both over the arm of the nearest chair. He went to stand behind Virginia. Setting his hands on her shoulders, he bent his head and kissed the side of her throat. He felt a tiny shiver sweep through her.
Gently he eased the cloak off her shoulders and tossed it aside. He took down her hair. She was so soft and delicate. His own body was hard and tight, making him feel clumsy and awkward. The soft
pings
that sounded when he put the hairpins on the mantel seemed very loud in the shadows.
He turned her around to face him. Slowly, deliberately, he finished the task of unfastening the stiffly boned top of her gown. The bodice separated and fell away, revealing the gentle feminine curves underneath. He stripped the tight sleeves to her wrists and eased the rest of her clothing away until she stood before him, wearing only her chemise and stockings.
He fitted his hands to her waist, lifted her free of the heap of skirts and petticoats and set her back on her feet. She unfastened the remaining buttons of his shirt and flattened her palms against his bare chest. The touch of her hands made his temperature climb even higher.
“I love the feel of you,” she whispered.
She kissed his jaw and then his shoulder. Her mouth was wet and warm, thrilling all of his senses.
“I can’t take much more of that,” he warned her.
She raised her head and smiled a devastatingly mysterious smile. Her eyes were brilliant with feminine power.
“I don’t believe that,” she said. “Not for a minute. You are always in control, Owen Sweetwater.”
“That was mostly true, I think, until I met you.”
He kissed her, a short, hard kiss that was fueled by the edgy urgency crackling through him. Then he turned away and picked up her cloak. He unfurled it with a sharp, snapping movement of his hand and let it fall on the carpet in front of the fireplace. The thick woolen folds spread out and fluttered to the floor, forming a makeshift bed.
He got rid of his boots, his trousers and drawers. When he turned back to Virginia he saw that she was staring at him in consternation. At first he thought she was transfixed by his erection. He did not know whether to be flattered, amused or worried.
“Is that a knife you have strapped to your ankle?” she said, and gasped.
He looked down at the leather sheath, chagrined. She had not noticed it the first time because he had made love to her without removing his trousers.
“Sorry,” he said. “I tend to forget about it.”
“How could you possibly forget a knife strapped to your ankle?”
“I have worn it since I was a boy. All Sweetwater men do. It’s the family motto.”
She raised her brows. “Just what sort of motto would that be?”
“Talent is useful, but always keep your dagger sharp.”
“Not the usual family motto. But, then, I’m getting the impression that the Sweetwaters are not an ordinary family.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “The Sweetwaters are really a very normal sort of family.”
He unfastened the knife sheath and left it conveniently at hand. This time, when he looked at her he saw that she was, indeed, gazing at his erection.
“Is it always like that?” she asked.
His laugh came out as a groan.
“Only when I am near you,” he said.
He knelt on the cloak and drew her down onto her knees in front of him. She reached out and took him in her hands, exploring him intimately. He closed his eyes briefly, his jaw clenching against the surging need that pulsed through him.
“I’m desperate for you,” he said, aware that his voice was raw with need.
“You stir the most astonishing desire in me,” she whispered. “I have never known anything like it.”
“Then we are well matched.”
He tightened his arms around her and kissed her, letting her feel the full force of his need. When she sighed and sank against him, her breasts pillowed against his chest, he moved his hand between her thighs. She was damp and slick, and wonderfully full to the touch. He stroked her carefully, seeking out the sensitive hidden places.
When he inserted a finger deep inside her she cried out and dropped her forehead against his shoulder. He felt her body draw tighter. Deliberately he inserted a second finger.
She gasped. Her small, delicate muscles closed even more securely around him. She released his heavy erection and clutched his forearms.
“Now relax,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to,” she said into his shoulder. “I like it this way.”
“You’ll like it even better if you do as I say. I give you my word. Relax.”
Her narrow passage loosened almost imperceptibly. He withdrew his fingers partway.
“Now hold me as if you’ll never let me go.” He pushed back into her.
She tightened snugly around him again. Another tremor went through her. She was very wet now. He breathed in the scent of her body.
“Yes,” he said. “Like that.”
He removed his fingers partway and eased his thumb up under the taut little bud of her clitoris until she strained against him. Then he penetrated her again with his fingers.
“You are as tight as a handmade glove,” he said.
He hooked his fingers a little so that he could press them more firmly against the sensitive area just inside her hot channel. Then he slowly started to withdraw.
“No,” she gasped, and tightened abruptly, trying to keep him inside. “Don’t stop.”
“I have no intention of stopping. Relax.”
She did but just barely. She had the pattern of the dance now, and she was taking control, alternately clenching and releasing as he eased his fingers in and out of her. With each stroke he dragged his half-curled fingers against the roof of her passage, pressing harder and harder.
“Yes,” she said. Her voice rose to a faint squeak.
“Yes.”
He knew she was hovering on the precipice. He felt the sudden release of the tension deep inside her and sensed the onset of the small convulsions even before she did.
Her lips parted. He covered her mouth quickly with his own to swallow the sound of her climax. Her fingers dug into his arms.
He let her ride the currents, glorying in the knowledge that he was the one who had sent her soaring. When the small tremors started to ease, he pushed her onto her back, fitted himself to her and plunged deep.
“Owen,” she managed.
“Owen.”
He was beyond any coherent response, beyond the boundaries of his own control. He no longer cared.
He thrust in and out of her, his senses dazzled by the energy of their hot auras.
And then he, too, was poised on the high cliffs above the deep, mysterious waters. His release slammed through him, taking him over the edge. Virginia cried out softly again. Another rush of energy rippled through her.
It seemed to him that they fell together, their auras fused in a moment of searing intimacy. When the last of the shuddering waves faded he opened his eyes and looked down at Virginia’s flushed face. She was watching him with a strangely intent expression.
Do you feel it?
he wanted to ask.
Do you sense this bond between us?
He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She sprawled across his damp chest. He wrapped her close, indulging his exhausted senses in her warmth and the soft, vital weight of her body.