She pretended disappointment, bending her head with a long sigh. “I suppose I understand. Is there anything I could say or do that would change your mind?”
He shifted again, and his voice was even huskier when he said, “I’m afraid not. Though I do have a request.”
She arched a brow and took a step toward him, closing the distance he had created when she called him by his first name. “What is it?”
“I hope you won’t reveal what you know to anyone else at the party, even your companion or your friends. Only Roseford and the duchess are aware of what Barber and I are doing, and secrecy is, as you might imagine, paramount in this situation.”
She edged a little closer, until she was just in front of him. God’s teeth, he was tall. Like a tree…and she’d always been a good climber. She reached out, surprised her hand was trembling a fraction, and rested her palm on his chest. There seemed to be a ripple that moved through him when she touched him, though he managed to keep his face impassive.
“Secrets,” she whispered. “I’m very good at keeping those, Derrick. You needn’t worry about me.”
His fists clenched tight at his sides and his jaw flexed. She could see him fighting, all that control trying to stay in place, all those lovely edges fraying, fraying, fraying. Oh, how easy it would be to just…
She lifted up on her tiptoes, sliding her hand up his chest, resting it on his shoulder as she brushed her lips against his jawline. The beginnings of stubble abraded her mouth and she longed to nip there, to feel that chin rub her breasts, along her inner thigh. She’d had every intention of stopping just there but now, well, now she wanted just a little more.
She lifted higher and let her mouth take his. For a fraction of a moment, he was still. But then his arms came around her as control wavered. He pulled her tight against his hard chest and his lips parted to welcome her seeking tongue inside.
Selina was not a virginal young lady afraid of a kiss. She’d done this very thing many times and with many men. She liked kissing, with all its angles and emotions and connections. She especially liked the thrill in the blood that always accompanied a first kiss.
But despite all her experience, despite the game she was playing, the moment Derrick’s rough tongue pressed into her mouth, she recognized something shocking.
This was unlike any kiss she’d ever shared before.
This was…animal, passionate, a claiming unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It was out of control and that was frightening. She, like the man before her, was always in control, especially when it came to something physical.
Despite that, she didn’t want him to stop. Now that their mouths were crushing together, innate hunger yearning to be sated, she never wanted to stop.
He wasn’t gentle, though he had a great deal of finesse as he tangled his tongue with hers with an urgency that spoke to desire and skill mixed in one. He sucked her tongue as he molded her closer, a flash of pain that made her fingertips dig hard into his back through his jacket. She sank into the sensations his mouth created. Pleasure that arced through her body, tingling through her limbs, into her core, throbbing between her legs as she lifted into him and tried to find the friction that would ease this wild ache.
The moment she did so, his mouth stilled on hers, and then he pulled away, taking a step back. His breath was short, his lips wet. She could still taste him on her tongue, still feel his overwhelming energy surrounding her like a cloak that only the two of them had ever worn.
She had won this battle in the war he didn’t even realize they were fighting. And yet she felt no triumph in that.
No, she felt something far more dangerous. She felt a longing she hadn’t experienced in a lifetime. A need for more. And that was dangerous, because it required depending upon another person for her pleasure, for her happiness, for her satisfaction. That was one thing she did not do. Not ever.
“I-I won’t tell a soul,” she promised, shocked at the stammer and the shaking of her voice. He would read it as a missish response to the kiss rather than what it was, but she knew better. She knew she’d been moved when she hadn’t wanted to be.
And she turned on her heel and bolted from the orangery to escape that truth and the man who had revealed it with his expert kiss.
Chapter 6
Derrick sat before the hearth in his chamber, his fingers steepled before him, his chin resting against them as he stared into the dying fire. In less than an hour the gathering before supper would begin in the parlor. And he would have to see Selina again.
Considering he hadn’t stopped thinking about kissing her since she slipped from the orangery, that was a dangerous truth, indeed.
She was playing a game with him, of course. He would be a fool not to see it. She was toying with the idea of being sweet and innocent, playing a role, but it didn’t fully…suit her. She wasn’t sweet. She was saucy and seductive and sharp as a blade. All equally attractive, but none of them sweet.
And innocent? Well, that he didn’t know about. It was none of his business, really. She was the sister of a duke, bastard or not. She had likely been raised in a sheltered environment. He might simply be the toy of a bored aristocrat, stretching the bounds of her world because she knew his secret and it titillated her. Or she might be…something else. He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t fully read her. That was both troubling and intoxicating.
She was intoxicating, from the softness of her body molding to his to the flavor of her lips, to the little sound she’d made deep in her throat when he’d driven his tongue into her mouth and staked the tiniest of claims.
Wrong, all of it. But it had happened, and now he was going to have to live with whatever consequences came, including the heated memories that kept making his cock rock-hard and his mind too foggy to think.
Tonight he needed to think. The Earl and Countess of Winford would arrive tomorrow with her blasted Breston necklace and he wouldn’t be able to spend hours pondering the fullness of Selina Oliver’s lower lip, how much he’d wanted to tug on it with his teeth until she ground her hips against his.
“Fucking hell,” he cursed, and dragged a shaking hand down to the placard of his trousers. He was to meet Barber before the gathering so they could strategize, but there was going to be none of that until he took care of this pulsing desire the only way he could, or should.
He unfastened himself with a flick of his wrist and his cock pushed free of the confines of the fabric. He was already hard, at attention, and he let out a breath of relief at no longer being constricted. He stroked a thumb over his head, wetting himself a little with precome. The sensation of skin on skin forced a hissing breath from his throat, and he scooted lower in his chair so that he was slouched. He spit on his hand and reached for himself again.
He began to stroke, trying to focus on the pleasure, not let his mind wander. He didn’t want to think about Selina and her warm body rubbing against his, seeking release. Seeking exactly what was hard in his hand right now. He didn’t want to think about dragging her down onto the floor of the orangery and shoving her skirts around her waist. He didn’t want to think about holding her down with one hand while he licked her until she screamed and twitched.
He didn’t want to think about gliding his hard cock deep inside her body, grinding deep inside of her until she spasmed around him and milked him dry.
“Fuck,” he muttered, because of course he was already thinking all those things. Pleasure grew, spreading up his cock, through his balls, making him weightless and effortless as he jerked harder, harder, imagining Selina Oliver in the most depraved positions. Imagining her pleasure as he took her, claimed her, made her say his name before she could come.
And then the pleasure peaked, swift and powerful, and he groaned out her name as he came, covering the tip of himself so that he didn’t stain his trousers.
He sat there for what felt like a lifetime, too sluggish from pleasure to get up and put himself back together. At least that was done. It would mu
te whatever desire still burned in his veins for this unexpected woman he could not want. Should not pursue. Certainly shouldn’t kiss.
He would be focused now. And that would be the end of it.
He pushed to his feet at last and tucked himself back in. He washed his hands in the small basin and then smoothed his hair and straightened his jacket. With a sigh, he headed out of the chamber and downstairs to the parlor where the party would gather shortly. He found Barber waiting for him, and he turned as Derrick entered.
“You are never late,” Barber said with a laugh. “I was going to send out a search party.”
“It was five minutes,” Derrick muttered, perhaps with less good nature than his friend’s teasing required. He hadn’t told Barber about the kiss. He had no intention of doing so.
Barber wrinkled his brow at the sharp response, then shrugged. “The others will be here soon. Should we discuss our strategy?”
Derrick shook off his ill humor and nodded. “Yes. But one moment.” He moved back to the door and checked the hallway. As Barber watched him, he crossed to the window and checked it, as well. Once burned, twice shy, after all.
“You can never be too careful,” Barber said.
Derrick shrugged. “Apparently not. But we seem to be in the clear.” He did not add this time, though those words rang in his head and reminded him, once again, of Selina. He cleared his throat and returned to business. “With Lord and Lady Winford’s arrival tomorrow, the investigation will take on a more urgent tenor. We need to be organized. What are your thoughts on the party so far? Do you have any suspicions?”
“Based on our guidelines that the thief must have some level of access to Society, some way to move within their circles without being suspected and someone who is also here…” Barber pulled a notebook from his pocket. “I still think Mr. Grimes is a potential.”
“I agree,” Derrick said, pleased to be back in the game. “When I sat beside him at supper last night, he was…well, he wasn’t my favorite person. Now he might have been rude because of my station in comparison to his own…”
“You’re both grandsons of earls,” Barber said with a shrug. “He has little room to judge.”
“Perhaps, but that never stops them,” Derrick said. “You know that more than most.”
Barber gave a wry smile. “I’ll give you that. We’ll keep a closer look on Mr. Grimes, and perhaps we can have Roseford give a little nudge to make him friendlier.”
Derrick shifted. “The next name on my list is going to be more complicated, especially when it comes to our host.” He lowered his voice a little and whispered, “I wonder if we must look closer at the Duke of Sheffield.”
“I thought the same thing, though I hate it,” Barber said with a shake of his head. “I sat near the duke and duchess at supper last night, as you know, and they are charming companions. They’re kind and clearly in love with each other.”
“But Sheffield’s financial problems are at least somewhat well-known. I’ve heard whispers that Lord and Lady Winford were invited here because Sheffield wanted to discuss an investment with the earl.”
“That is the saving grace,” Barber said. “Sheffield was very open about how he’s working with Grayson Danford on a number of projects. Danford’s canals made a good deal of money in the last few years, Sheffield was in with him from the start.”
Derrick nodded slowly. “So he’s rebuilding his fortune by what appears to be legitimate means.”
“That seems to be the case,” Barber agreed. “So while I wouldn’t remove him from our list of suspects, he has exactly the access the Fox would need and a motive for taking jewels of value. But I’d move him lower on the list.”
“I spoke to some of the staff, as well,” Derrick said. “With a little persuasion…”
“Payment?” Barber teased.
Derrick laughed. “It’s the client’s money, not mine. But yes, greasing a few palms never hurt anyone. A few seemed uncertain about the footman of Squire Barton Filligrew. I had the impression, without pushing so hard that I aroused suspicion of my own, that he has some odd habits and movements.”
Barber wrinkled his brow. “A squire could very well have been invited to the events where items were stolen. And his footman would certainly be able to sneak in without much notice. I have the guest lists we compiled from the previous events where items were taken. I’ll cross check, though you know it isn’t perfect.”
“I know.” Derrick sighed. “Uninvited guests seem to come to every party. It is the way of Society. But it makes our job so much harder.”
Barber tilted his head. “And who is the uninvited guest here?”
Derrick’s eyes went wide. “A very good question. One I’ll raise with our friend the Duke of Roseford when I next get a moment of his attention. We should also examine those who come with Winford.”
Barber nodded. “It would make sense. If the thief resides with Lady Winford herself, they would want to wait until a larger party to make their move rather than steal the necklace at home. I’ll make inquiries as soon as they arrive. Is that everyone?”
“I don’t know.” Derrick paced the room, restless energy unable to let him be still. “It feels incomplete somehow. Like we’re missing something.”
Barber checked his notes. “If we are, I can’t see it. But I trust your instincts, so we’ll keep digging. We’re going to catch the Fox, Huntington. I feel it in my bones.”
Derrick nodded, buoyed by his friend’s certainty, but before he could respond, the door to the parlor opened and Selina stepped into the room. And when she sent a knowing, playful smile his way…well, it was more than his heart that throbbed. She didn’t make her way toward them, a fact for which he was both grateful and disappointed. She moved to the sideboard to peruse the liquor lined up for the guests and the door opened again as others began to trickle into the room for the pre-supper gathering.
“You still with me?” Barber asked.
Derrick blinked and forced his attention back to his friend. “Yes, yes, of course. I’m fine. I’m here. I’m listening,” he stammered out.
Barber’s eyebrows lifted and he stared at him a moment. Then he nodded slowly. “Yes, you seem very present. What is our game plan, then, for tonight?”
Derrick edged to the side, putting his back to Selina, who was now perched on the edge of the settee, engaged in close conversation with none other than Mr. Grimes. If the gentleman had been standoffish with Derrick, he was certainly not with Selina. Before Derrick cut off his sightline to the pair, Grimes was leaning forward, engrossed by her…or her breasts, for that was where the gentleman kept looking. Derrick fisted his hands at his sides in frustration.
“We…” He shook his head. “We should see who we’re seated next to at supper tonight. That will help guide who we garner information from without arousing suspicion. Then we regroup after the meal and see if we need to dig a little deeper with any one person or persons.”
Barber nodded. “If you don’t mind, I think I will start with Mr. Grimes. It seems Miss Oliver has left his side and he is temporarily alone.”
Derrick pivoted and found, indeed, Selina had left Grimes’s side. She had moved to her brother and sister-in-law and was smiling brightly as she chatted with them. A real smile. Not as playful or cheeky as the one she always gifted him. That smile that was a test…and she probably designed it that way.
Barber continued, oblivious to Derrick’s thoughts. “Perhaps he’ll be more amenable to speaking to me than he was to you.”
“Excellent,” Derrick said, and scanned the room to see if he could find a target as far away from Selina as possible. He found Squire Barton Filligrew at the fire. “I’ll talk to Squire Filligrew. I believe he knows my grandfather, so it’s as good a time as ever to trade on the earl’s good name.”
“He’d love that,” Barber chuckled as the two men parted ways. Derrick crossed the room slowly, trying to maintain a casual air, when in reality, he was massively aware of ev
erything in the room around him. Including the woman across it, the one whose lips he could still taste, even though it had been half a day since he’d claimed them.
* * *
Selina traced her fingertip along the edge of her wine glass as she surveyed the room around her. Supper had been uneventful, unlike the previous night. She had not been seated near Derrick this time, so that gave her a little breathing room.
Of course, it also had given her a chance to observe him talk to those around him. She couldn’t hear him, but his body language was fascinating. The way he leaned in when he was curious. The way his cheek twitched just before he smiled. The way it didn’t when the smile was false.
She also got to observe him as he watched the room at large. He was a collector, that much was obvious. Gathering up little bits of information, cataloguing them in his mind. Hunting the Fox.
Hunting her.
And that idea should have terrified her, but when his gaze flitted to her from time to time, when his pupils dilated with what was obviously desire, she didn’t mind being hunted. Captured by a man like that? Oh, the possibilities were endless. An intelligent mind like his would surely find a thousand ways to…punish her. Her body ached even now thinking about it.
She shook her head. Supper was long over now, the men and women of the group had separated and now regathered. There was talk of games and shadow puppets as an entertainment. No one’s attention was on her, even his. A good thing, probably. The space allowed her to collect herself.
And to make a move that had nothing to do with Derrick Huntington. Since Lord and Lady Winford were to arrive tomorrow, she had sent Vale out to speak to the servants and find out which chamber was to be theirs. Her “companion” had come back just before supper with the answer. Tonight, Selina meant to do reconnaissance. This was the time to do it, when the room was distracted by boisterous laughter and the servants moving tables and setting up games.
The Heart of a Hellion: The Duke’s Bastards Book 2 Page 6
