He looked over his shoulder to see her gaze upon him even as Ophelia pulled her in the opposite direction. His chest tightened. He was in love with her.
“Anyone have a pistol I can use?”
Dashlane pulled a pistol from his belt. “Here. I’ve got two. You take this one.”
Mr. Moorish made his way down the path with a sprightliness that surprised Raithe. Older and a bit heavy, the man could move.
“We need to make sure at least one of them remains alive. I want to know who they’re working for. This is the third theft in a month. It stops tonight.”
The man silently nodded just as Raithe caught sight of lanterns bobbing toward the caves once again. “We should capture them before they make it to the caves.”
“Agreed,” Rathmore replied. “Craven, Dashlane, Crestwood, take a sharp right so as to cut off their path. The three of us will flank them from behind.”
Everyone nodded as their group split in two.
Raithe could see they pushed another crate, working doubly hard. He nearly smiled. It would be much easier to catch them by surprise with them bent over, working as they were. He stepped into the lead, the sand allowing him to move stealthily behind them. He picked the largest one and grabbed him by the neck, swinging the man to the ground and holding his pistol to his head as he drove his knee into the man’s back.
He heard the other two men cock their guns, likely aiming right at him, but Mr. Moorish stepped up next to him, Rathmore on his other side. “You’ve been surrounded. Drop your weapons.”
In answer, they raised their guns clearly set to fire at Mr. Moorish when a shot rang out from behind. One of the men grunted but the other fired back into the darkness.
In response, Rathmore charged, driving the man into the ground.
The third raised his hands, dropping his pistol.
Craven came out of the dark, holding his gun to the third thief’s head. “Down on your knees.”
“Don’t shoot,” the other man cried. “I’ve been hit.”
Crestwood and Dashlane appeared behind Craven, Dashlane holding the right side of his head.
Mr. Moorish pulled out the rope and knife that he’d attached to his belt. “Tie their hands behind their backs. These men and I are going to have a little chat.”
Chapter Fifteen
Charlie paced about the small, windowless room they currently occupied. If she weren’t so distracted, she would have been impressed.
A bookcase that had blended in with the rest, had swung open, revealing the room behind.
“How many men were there?” Ophelia asked quietly, filling the silence about them. Even the ocean was deadened in their tiny room.
“Three,” she answered. She’d told them the same thing half a dozen times since they’d entered the room, but she thought it made all of them feel better to know their men outnumbered the thieves.
“Three,” Ophelia repeated, twisting her hands together. “Unless there were more back at the boat.”
Charlie shook her head. “It sounded like they were the three responsible for hiding the goods. They discussed opening some of the wine. Could they do that with others helping?”
Bianca stepped up and took her hands. “That sounds right. Good job listening. Come sit. You’ll wear yourself out.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly. I’m too nervous. He should have come up with us. He was injured and—”
“And you love him,” Cordelia finished. “Have you told him?”
Charlie’s shoulders slumped. She’d said that she wanted to marry him. But lots of women wanted to marry titled lords. It wasn’t quite the same as confessing that she was in love.
“He’s going to marry her. Chris said so,” Bianca said. “It’s why Papa allowed Lord Balstead down to the beach to fetch her. He’d promised they’d wed.”
Charlie wrapped her arms about her stomach. She’d wanted to debate that turn of events. But then he’d raced up the hill with her in his arms, literally been shot protecting her. She wasn’t sure she could protest their union but she could tell him how she felt. Hope that given time, he would return her feelings. Learn to love her despite his past connection to his wife.
A noise outside the room stilled all of them. The case thumped and then swung open, Mr. Moorish standing in the door. “Everyone all right here?”
Ophelia and Cordelia stood as Charlie turned toward her host. “We’re fine. Are all of you all right?”
He gave a slow nod, a small smile touching his lips. “Mostly fine. We need to get the constable, but we’d thought we’d allow all of you to see your beaux first.”
The girls rushed to the door, and for a moment, Charlie thought they might not all make it out the door, but somehow they jockeyed through and she heard their cries as they each found the man they searched for.
Cordelia let out a cry. “You’re hurt.”
Charlie stepped toward the door then, her heart hammering in her chest. For some reason, she was more nervous than she’d ever been to see Raithe. Inside, something had changed. She’d succumbed to the love that had been rising inside her, and she didn’t know what that would mean precisely.
But she didn’t even make it to the entrance before he was in front of her.
His breeches were covered in sand, his hair windblown, and blood stained the sleeve of his shirt. He looked divine.
She gave a cry as, without thought, she launched herself into his arms. “I was so worried.”
He wrapped her in his embrace, lifting off her feet. “Charlie,” he whispered close to her ear, his voice rough with emotion.
Her breath caught. “You should set me down. Your arm.”
“I don’t want to,” he answered, his voice gruff even as he nuzzled his face into her neck. “You’re sure you’re not injured anywhere?”
“I’m fine.” She leaned back to look at him. “You’re the one I’m worried about.”
Rather than answer, he captured her lips with his own a quick, hard kiss that left her breathless.
Mr. Moorish cleared his throat. “I’ve sent for the constable, I’ll wait for him in the sitting room downstairs. The rest of you should go get some rest and make sure to lock your doors both inside and out. The balconies are climbable.” Then he turned and left the room.
Charlie looked over Raithe’s shoulder. “He left us?”
Rathmore wrapped an arm around Ophelia’s waist. “He knows we want to protect our women tonight, I think.”
Charlie’s mouth dropped open. “But…”
Raithe let out a short chuckle. “The advantage of being engaged. Now, my sweetheart, will you help me bandage my arm?”
“Of course.” She wiggled down from his hold, inspecting the wound. “Does it hurt terribly?”
“No. It’s fine. But perhaps we’ll go somewhere quieter where you can inspect it more thoroughly.”
Quieter? But she didn’t ask as he took her by the arm and pulled her from the room.
Raithe didn’t give a flying fig about the wound. He just needed an excuse to get Charlie alone. To hold her, touch her, and tell her how he felt.
He pulled her along, heading for her room. Up the stairs they started when she gave a tiny tug. “We should go to the kitchen and get some supplies.”
“I don’t need supplies,” he answered, starting up the stairs again.
“But your arm,” she protested, tugging again.
“It’s fine.” He stopped turning back to her. “What I need is you.”
“Oh,” she said, not moving. “I need to tend to your wound. I’ll feel better if I do.”
How could he deny her that? “Charlie.” He pulled her closer, leaning his forehead down to hers. “If I don’t hold you in my arms soon, I might lose my mind.”
She smiled then. So soft and so sweet, he ached. “Five minutes. I just need boiling water and fresh linens.”
“Very well.” He sighed. She started pulling him back down the stairs. “But let me be clear. I
t’s only a flesh wound. Nothing to worry about at all.”
She shook her head. “Men.”
“What about men?”
“So pig-headed.” She huffed. “We’re getting married, aren’t we?”
He smiled at that. “We are.”
“Well, I can’t have you getting an infection before the wedding, now can I? Where will I be then?”
“They’ll all keep your secret. You’ll be fine.”
She turned and looked at him, color staining her cheeks. “Not after tonight, I won’t.”
His body clenched, every nerve coming to attention. “You’d better hurry up with that water, Lady Charlotte. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for tonight.”
They headed down the back steps and entered the kitchen. One of the scullery maids passed by. “Excuse me.” Charlie held up a hand. “Could I get some boiling water and clean rags?”
“Of course.” The girl bobbed and disappeared again.
She looked back a Raithe. “You’ve only been in Seabridge Gate for a few days.”
He reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand as he moved closer. “I’ve watched your every step since our dance last year.”
She gasped, her hands fluttering up to his chest. “But why didn’t you ask me to dance again? Or even speak to me?”
He took her face in both hands, looking into her eyes. “Because you are dangerous, my sweet. I knew it from the first moment I touched you.”
She didn’t feel dangerous, but she did feel powerful and wanted. What was more, she wanted him too.
“My lady. The water is ready,” the maid called from in the kitchen.
“Take off your shirt,” she whispered. “We’ll get you all bandaged.”
“What my lady asks for, she gets.” And he stepped back, stripping off his shirt.
She resisted the urge to run her hands all over his powerful chest as she pulled him into the kitchen.
She cleaned the wound with hot water and then tightly wrapped it with fresh linens. He was right, it was only a graze, not nearly as bad as she’d feared.
“All better?” he asked, looking down at her bandage.
“It will be soon enough.” She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Now. It’s time for you to go to bed. It’s been a long day.”
One of his brows rose up. “It has, indeed.”
Grabbing his bloody, ripped shirt, he shrugged it on, and reached for her hand one more time. “Upstairs with both of us.”
Chapter Sixteen
Charlie practically floated next to him as they made their way upstairs. She knew she’d be pressed against him very soon. In his arms, next to his heart.
“There are some things I think I need to tell you,” she gushed before they made it to her room. She needed to get the words out before he started to kiss her.
“What?” he asked, reaching her hall. “Should I be concerned?”
“I…” She swallowed down her fear. “I don’t know.”
He stopped then, his hand on her doorknob. “What is it?” His face had tightened, his brows drawing together.
“Well,” she straightened her shoulders, “I have to be honest with you. I…” Her shoulders slipped a bit, nerves getting the best of her. “You see, I don’t want a marriage of arrangement or convenience. I want to be in love. That is to say…I’m in love with you, Raithe.” His fingers squeezed hers. “It’s all right if you don’t feel that way about me, but what I wish to know is if, in the future, you might possibly feel that way about me.”
“Charlie,” his voice was gentle but there was an edge to it and she shook her head.
“I don’t want to replace Jenni. She was your past and I respect that. But I need to know I might have a family filled with love like the one I lost. It’s important to me. And—"
“Charlie,” he said louder. “I can’t possibly fall in love with you in the future.”
“Oh,” she breathed, pain lancing her chest.
He pulled her closer. “Didn’t you understand me in the kitchen? Since the first moment I saw you, I haven’t been able to look at anyone else. I’ve been in love with you for a while, I think I wasn’t ready to admit it, but I’m saying it now. I love you, my sweet Charlie. I’ll love you always.”
She gasped in a breath as he wrenched open the door and pulled her inside. “You love me?”
He closed the door behind them, capturing her mouth in his as he pressed her back against it. She threaded her arms around his neck, her fingers combing up into his hair. His tongue danced with hers, their mouths devouring one another. Finally, he pulled back. “Charlie, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I felt guilty feeling this way about you.”
She shook her head. “I understand.”
He kissed her again, lifting her into his arms and carrying her across the room. “You scared me because our connection is so strong that I felt like it would erase my past and…”
She leaned back, looking him in the eyes. “It won’t. We’ll honor your past just as we will mine.”
His eyes drifted closed before he opened them again. “I love you, Charlie.”
“I love you too,” she said, kissing him again with all the passion she had.
He set her down next to the bed, his fingers working down the buttons at the back of her dress even as his lips trailed kisses down her neck.
Reaching the last of the buttons, Charlie began pulling the sleeves down her arms, wiggling out of the fabric until it landed in a pile on the floor.
He let out a deep sound, even as he spun her about, and tugged at the strings of her corset. “I can’t wait to take this thing off.”
She smiled as she reached for the bed post, holding on as he pulled the cords. “You’ve done this before,” she gasped as the garment loosened. It hurt the tiniest bit to know he had been such a rake.
He kissed the back of her neck and then reached into her hair, pulling out several pins until the locks tumbled down her back. “I won’t lie to you about my time between my first marriage and now, but I can tell you, there has only been you. Since the first moment we danced, I—”
She looked over her shoulder then and he captured her lips with his own. “I don’t want to make idle threats but I expect you to keep that promise, my lord.”
He chuckled, his hands sliding down her waist and over her hips. “Are you wearing pantaloons?”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s been so hot.”
He chuckled even as he started sliding her chemise up her body. “I’m so glad.” He skimmed his hands up her calves and over the inside of her thighs. Then he fanned his hands out up over her hips, pulling the chemise up her body and over her head.
She stood in nothing but her stockings and slippers. He guided her hands up higher onto the bedpost then ran them down her arms, tracing every curve of her body until she nearly hummed with desire. His touch was light, the calluses on his palms creating a friction that made her shiver.
And when he reached around her body, cupping her breasts, she moaned and let go of the post, wanting to wrap her arms about him. “Not yet,” he whispered in her ear. “Hold on, love.” As he tweaked her nipples, he began kissing down her back, nuzzling the curve at the small of her back before trailing a kiss over one cheek.
Then he nudged her legs apart, pushing her forward. “I’m going to kiss you again.”
When his tongue slid along her seam she nearly exploded with pleasure, even as one of his hands brushed through her curls, finding her nub of pleasure and applying pressure in slow circles.
His tongue continued to slide along her seam as pleasure built inside her, and she dug her hands into the wood, crying out as he only increased the tempo.
Her legs shook and whimpering cries bubbled from her lips but he didn’t slow the pace and after a few more passes, her insides shattered and she came undone.
Charlie slumped forward, her body pushing into the post for strength. She closed her eyes, wondering how she�
�d never known her body could do that. “Raithe?”
He slid a hand down her back then held her hips as he helped her as she crawled onto the bed. “I’ll be right there, love.”
Turning over on her back, she watched as he stripped off his shirt, his boots already pushed to the side. When his hands came to the falls of his breeches, she sat up a little. Twice now he’d used his mouth to break her apart. Was it the same for him? Would he feel as good if she touched him like that?
“Raithe.” She moved up to sitting, and then slid off the bed, her knees landing on the floor. She touched his knee, the butter softness of his breeches sliding under her fingers. “I asked you once about other forms of pleasure.”
She felt his muscles twitch under the tips of her fingers. “You did.”
“Does it work the same for men and women? Can I…” She licked her lips, trying to find the words. He groaned softly, hooking the waist of his breeches with his thumbs and rising to remove the garment.
His staff rose out from his body in front of her face, long, and thick, and straining against its own skin. She lifted her hand, wrapping her fingers about its girth, just to feel and explore the flesh. His head tipped back and he moaned louder. He liked that, did he?
She moved her hand along the velvet skin, exploring the tip, the rod, the base. His hand covered hers, and he guided her fingers up and down the shaft.
Licking her lips again, Charlie remembered the feel of his tongue, hot, wet, just slightly rough. Would he enjoy the touch as much as she did?
She reached out her tongue and flicked the tip. He jolted, his hands sliding into her hair. She did the same again and then planted a kiss directly on the head. He was so hard, she slid her lips along the engorged flesh.
“Charlie,” his voice held a raspy note of desperation as his hands held her still. “Tonight, I want to make you mine.”
“I already am,” she replied as she looked up at him. “Don’t you know that yet?”
Raithe stared down at the woman he loved, the woman who was going to be his wife. Yes. He knew.
Who Wants a Brawling Baron: Romancing the Rake Page 9
