He looked up at the rough features of the driver. “I’ll just be a few moments. Then you are to take me to the warehouse on Charing Lane.”
“Very well, sir.” The man nodded and settled in to wait.
Flint took the steps to Ros’s home slowly, but the door opened just as he summited the top, and Ros catapulted into his arms in a flurry of perfume and silk. “Flint! I was so worried.”
He clenched his teeth as she clung to him, making absolutely everything on him hurt. But, it was a pain to be welcomed and savored—something to be remembered in the future. “I can’t stay long. Lucifer’s men were there and have scooped up some of the lead men. He expects to get to the bottom of things soon.”
Ros pulled back, worry creasing her brow. “You need to see a doctor. I am certain that you are in pain.”
He grinned. “Nothing I can’t manage. I merely wanted to assure myself that you were safe and still in the company of friends.”
Stone loomed in the doorway. “Surely, you didn’t think we would desert our posts?”
Flint felt foolish that he’d worried. “Never that, yet I still needed to see her.” He found her glittering green gaze in the partial light from the open door and the porch lamps. “Needed to see you.”
Then he captured her lips with his and drank in her essence. Drank in all the goodness and beauty she represented in his world. She opened to him, welcomed him as she always did with love and kindness far beyond what he deserved.
Finally, he drew back and set her away from him. If he was going to leave, he needed to do so immediately, or the temptation to stay and hold her would be too great.
“You will come back to me when your business is done.” Ros directed—she did not ask.
And he had no intention of doing otherwise. “I shall always return to you. I have no choice in the matter.”
~
By the time Flint arrived at the warehouse, the gray light of dawn was creeping across the sky. Inside, the shadows were chased away by lamps held aloft by a couple of Lucifer’s men. The twin pools of light revealed two men who swayed as they stood bloodied and beaten. It was probably a miracle that they stood at all.
“Now that we’ve all arrived.” Lucifer darted a sardonic look at Flint. “Shall we begin?”
The taller of the two men looked up, and Flint recognized him as the thug he’d met in front of the ramshackle building in Seven Dials. The one who likely threatened Ros, based on her description. “Nothing to say. Besides, how much more can you hurt us?”
Lucifer snorted. “You’ve only begun to feel pain, my friend. Unless you choose to talk, of course. Now, who are you working for?”
“We don’t know nothing,” pleaded the slimmer, shorter man.
“Nonsense.” Lucifer waved his hand in the air. “We simply haven’t properly motivated you as of yet. Gordie, please help them recover their memories.”
The behemoth of a man stepped into the light. The slim man’s eyes widened as if he’d seen a monster. The head thug merely looked resigned. Gordie shrugged and, considering how abused they already appeared, looked at the bigger man. Taking one of his hands between his own, the giant snapped the thug’s finger like it was a dry twig. The thug groaned, cursed softly, but refused to cry out.
The slim man looked panicked, as though he might dash behind his bigger protector.
Lucifer sighed. “It seems you may need to do more than break a finger.”
Gordie grunted, and then in a lightning-fast move that Flint could barely credit a man his size with making, he jammed his foot into the side of the thug’s knee, causing his leg to crumple beneath him as he cried out in pain.
“Who do you work for?” Lucifer demanded as he loomed over the man.
“Mr. Bodwell!” The man cried out as he clutched his now damaged leg.
Flint huffed and stepped forward. “Who the bloody hell is that?”
The whimpering man’s gaze darted to his companion and then down to his own leg where his hands held his knee. The slim man stiffened and glanced around the circle of men warily.
A sneaking suspicion tickled the back of Flint’s brain as he watched the way the two men reacted. The thinner man never once bent to check on the familiar thug. He also looked more scared despite being significantly less abused than his companion. Something about the dynamic bothered Flint.
Lucifer must have picked up on the strangeness as well. “And who is Mr. Bodwell? Where might I find him?”
Again, the injured man’s gaze darted to his friend.
“I’d hazard a guess that he is Mr. Bodwell.” Flint pointed at the other man.
The slim man’s eyes widened. “I don’t know why you’d think I was him.”
Lucifer and Flint both looked askance at the man, but it was Lucifer who spoke. “Don’t you, Mr. Bodwell? Let me see if I might help clarify things for you. First of all, as someone who runs his own business that has an unsavory side to it, I can spot one of my own. Second, using that same background, there is no circumstance under which I would have hired you as muscle. And finally, your man here all but fingered you with the nervous way he looked your way as though seeking guidance.”
The slim man shed the last vestiges of his assumed personae and straightened up to his full height. Still slim, he no longer appeared as diminutive as he had only a moment ago. “Fair enough. I’m Mr. Bodwell, but I’m merely a hired service. I’m not the one who has it in for Lord Muckety-muck, here.”
Flint rolled his eyes.
Lucifer chuckled. “I didn’t suspect you were. However, you can tell us who hired you.”
“I’ve been paid well for my discretion, and if it were to get out that I didn’t keep my trap shut, it could damage my reputation,” the man said. “Certainly, a man such as yourself can understand, Mr. Lucifer.”
Flint snorted in his head. As if he has a choice in the matter.
“I’d worry less about your reputation and more about your physical ability to continue breathing.” Lucifer countered his concerns in the mildest tone, as though they were discussing the merits of tea versus coffee.
“Ah, you see. The problem is, I am more afraid of the man I work for than I am of you.” Mr. Bodwell shrugged his shoulders as though the issue was beyond his control.
Lucifer sighed gustily, pulled out his gun, and shot the man’s thigh, causing his leg to give out a bit. “Now, I was generous, and I merely shot the meat of your thigh. An injury that is easy enough to recover from, assuming you manage to avoid infection. My next shot will not be so kind. I’m thinking either a knee or a hand, but I haven’t made up my mind which it will be just yet. While I am mulling over that decision, perhaps you’d like to reconsider yours?”
Flint watched the discussion play out with little concern for Mr. Bodwell. He’d played a risky game, and while the rewards may have been worth it had he won, there were no guarantees of winning.
Mr. Bodwell sniveled as he pressed his hands to either side of the wound in his leg. “He’ll kill me.”
“And what leads you to believe I won’t?” Lucifer asked softly.
“That one right there wouldn’t get wrapped up in anything so sordid.” Bodwell glanced at Flint but quickly focused back on Lucifer.
Flint decided to end any question that might linger around his willingness to see harm done. He pulled his own weapon out and shot the thug who’d threatened him in the arm. “To be clear, you and your thugs threatened what’s mine. In fact, you damn near ran her over in the park. Don’t think I’d be bothered in the slightest by my brother killing you.”
That bit of news caused Bodwell’s brows to rise as his gaze darted between the two men. Uncertainty remained etched on his face.
Lucifer lifted his weapon and aimed at the man’s other leg. “I suggest you reconsider your stance.”
Bodwell closed his eyes and turned his face away, as though he couldn’t look.
The thug on the ground that Flint had shot surged upward toward Flint, a knife in
his hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, Lucifer pulled to his left and fired, killing the man.
When Bodwell opened his eyes and saw his man dead, he paled. “Lord Cunningham hired me. Told me it would only be a few threats. We didn’t have nothing to do with whatever happened in the park.”
“Why did Cunningham want the fights thrown?” Flint growled.
Bodwell blinked. “Why does any man gamble? Either for the thrill or desperation. In his case, it was the latter. He barely had the blunt to pay my fee.”
Flint looked at Lucifer, who nodded. “I’ve heard rumblings of unpaid creditors, but I did not have any definitive information until now.”
Cunningham. Flint had suspected, no—known—it would be him. But, finally having it confirmed brought a sense of relief he could not explain. Finally, he could take action and not have any doubt.
The question was, how would he go about dismantling the man? He was already in dire straits it sounded, so it shouldn’t be hard to push him over the edge.
Chapter 23
Ros sat in the small garden behind her house, reading a book grateful for a respite from her ever-watchful guard, Lord Lincolnshire. Linc was a perfectly affable man, but he took his guard-duty very seriously when he spelled her sister and Wolf, who had become her primary overseers. She suspected that he felt particularly guilty since he’d lost her that day on Bond Street. The shady corner of her garden—courtesy of her trellis covered in climbing roses—offered a perfect spot to enjoy the warm day without sitting in the sun. All around her was an array of pinks and purples. With the delphiniums, cottage pinks, and peach leaf bellflower all in bloom, only the pink peonies could outshine them.
It had been a week since Flint’s fight, and he was healing nicely from his injuries. She had stopped in to visit him along with Julia and Wolf, Theo and Stone, Emily and Cooper, and even Lucifer on a couple of occasions. With such a gaggle of friends, she dared anyone to besmirch her reputation. Of course, having Lucifer among the group would raise a few eyebrows since it was still a relative secret that they were brothers.
“Ros!” Flint’s voice carried across the small garden, drawing her attention from her book, or more accurately, her thoughts.
“Aren’t you looking hale and hearty?” She smiled and stood up to greet him as he approached.
“Indeed, I am happy to be freed from my prison with the doctor’s blessing.” He opened his arms and drew her against him.
“Well, that is good news. When we all came by the other day, I thought you were on the verge of attempting an escape, regardless of your health. Not that I do not sympathize.”
“I was growing desperate to see you. I told Linc he could go for now.” His blue eyes darkened until they were nearly black.
Her heart fluttered, and her pulse raced as she absorbed his words. She had been beside herself with worry when she was not by his side, fretting over his care, and wondering if he was getting enough sleep. She had known how deeply she cared for him, that was easy enough to reason out. But, she hadn’t realized how deeply she was affected by that caring. Knowing he was unwell but out of her reach had nearly pushed her to her breaking point. Focusing on her whip practice had helped keep her occupied if a trifle sore. “I was no less pleased to see you. In fact, I am even happier to have you here now, all to myself.”
He was leaning in to kiss her when he stopped at her words. “Are you? And what do you have a mind to do with me, now that you have me?”
Never let you go, whispered through her mind, but she bit back the bold words.
Instead, she pressed up on her toes and sought his mouth. Their tongues tangled as his familiar taste invaded her senses. The man forever tasted of mint and whiskey. It was a masculine, earthy taste that made her head spin and her knees weak. But with his strong arms wrapped around her, she knew she was safe from collapse, come what may. So, she clung to him and enjoyed the press of his muscular form against her softness.
Eventually, he drew back from their kiss and studied her flushed face and kiss swollen lips. She felt beautiful as he stared at her as though he could find the secrets of the universe in her face.
“Rosalind, you humble me at every turn. You came into my dark and dreary life and brought light and happiness with you. You shine so brightly my shadows have been chased away.” He steadied her and then lowered to one knee and produced a ring that glittered in the afternoon sun. “I love you, and I cannot imagine my life without you in it every day. Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
She stared at him and then at the ring. The canary yellow diamond dazzled the eye, but for all that she loved him, for all that she wanted this with every fiber of her being, she hesitated because she knew there were still secrets between them. He had not owned his need for pain, had not trusted her with that deepest, darkest truth. But then, she realized she had not trusted him with her own recently discovered secret. She enjoyed the power that came with controlling the whip. The notion of having him under her direction excited her, made her needy in a way she would never have imagined. So, bearing that in mind, she let her love pour out. “Yes. Yes, I shall marry you!”
Flint rose up, slipped the ring on her finger, and swept her into his arms. Once again, they kissed, there in the shade of the climbing roses where they were hidden from prying eyes.
As their tongues twined, need for him swelled up from within. Her hands—almost as though she had no control over them—peeled off his coat and dropped it on the grass. Next, she worked his vest free, impatiently tugging at his lawn shirt as it posed yet one more obstacle in her path. He let his lips coast down her neck and over her collar bones as he worked her laces loose behind her. Her skin burned where he touched her, sending shivers of need through her body. Determined, she flicked open his trousers and worked them down until his shaft sprang free. Pleased to find him without any additional encumbrance, she turned them and pressed him onto the cushion on the stone bench.
His cock strained up from his trousers while desire pulsed through her limbs. Soaked between her thighs, she hauled up her skirts and straddled him as he tugged her bodice down and freed her breasts. The coolness of the shade brushed across her sensitive nipples, causing them to pucker into tight peaks. “Please, Flint. I need you.”
And she did. But still, as she sank down on him and savored the way he stretched her open, something was off. He bent forward and sucked one tip into his mouth, tugging firmly on her nipple. Her back bowed, pressing her flesh closer to his mouth as he filled her up.
Rising up, she could feel him slide nearly out of her, and then she sank back down on him. Again, and again, she rose up and slipped back down until his hips thrust up to meet her each time. As they came together, their bodies as one, there was still a separateness. A disconnectedness that haunted her, dampened her pleasure as well as his. As she came, her climax an undeniable surge from deep within, she pulled him over with her. Together, they moaned and kissed, but the power she was accustomed to feeling with him was gone. She slipped off his softening cock and fished into her sleeve for a handkerchief she kept there. Turning away from him, she cleaned herself up as he righted his own clothes. By the time they were once again dressed, she knew she needed to speak up. If he would not share his secret with her, she would simply tell him she already knew.
Determined to fix things, she turned to him. “Flint, if there is anything—”
“There you two are!” Julia’s voice cut through the moment.
Ros squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and cursed her sister’s poor timing—or perhaps marginally poor timing. A few moments earlier and Julia would have seen far more than either she or Flint would have liked. Ros turned, her face still flushed, to find not just Julia, but Wolf as well. “Yes, here we are.”
Flint nodded stiffly at first and then seemed to relax. Perhaps he suspected what she had been about to say? How could he? She sighed and resigned herself to dealing with the issue at hand later.
“We were abo
ut to go for a drive in the park and wanted to see if you would like to join us. Johnson told us Flint was with you in the garden.” Julia glowed with the confidence of a woman securely in love.
Ros wanted that glow as well, but until she and Flint had an honest conversation, she doubted she would feel such a thing. “Yes, he was just proposing.” She held out her hand and grinned, doing her best to summon the excitement of a newly engaged bride—one who has yet to understand the challenges of marital bliss.
Julia squealed and hugged first Ros and then Flint. The men slapped each other’s backs, and Wolf congratulated Flint as Julia crowed over the beautiful ring he had given her. The whole exchange passed by like a fog. She could see it happening, but she couldn’t touch it. Couldn’t make it feel real. What was she going to do if he wouldn’t tell her about his need for pain? Was she faced with yet another sham of a marriage? If she couldn’t get past his silence on the subject, it seemed something would forever be off. Only she could change that. But, how did one offer to whip their husband?
~
It had been two days since she’d become engaged to Flint, and with all the well-wishers, she had yet to have a moment alone with him. The one time she’d cornered him at her parents, he had dodged the conversation entirely by kissing her senseless. She’d wanted to be angry with him, but his kisses did wonderful things to her while also addling her thoughts. On her way to The Market for another lesson, she stopped by Flint’s home only to discover he had left mere moments before. She suspected subterfuge, but how could she accuse her fiancé of avoiding her? Yet, she knew perfectly well that he was.
It seemed a benefit of her new skills would be a way to ensure she maintained a balance with Flint. The man was prone to overbearing behavior—all of the Lustful Lords seemed to suffer from such issues, as far as she could tell. And having the opportunity to be in control of their interactions, of unleashing her dominant side appealed greatly. Parity could be found, she felt certain, but first, she had to figure out how to get him to acknowledge his needs. She worried her lip for a moment considering her options and found she was at a loss. Perhaps, she could ask Mistress Lash for guidance?
His Not-So-Sweet Marchioness Page 18
