Best of Both Rogues

by Samantha Grace

  “You could never be a burden, Ben, but I would gladly bear anything to be with you.”

  Her bright smile rekindled his hope. Perhaps it was possible to break free of his fears and accept that in this moment, they were happy, in love, and had a promising future together. He held his arms open, and she walked into his embrace. “I missed you, Kitten.”

  She glanced at him from beneath her thick lashes. “Likewise, Mr. Hillary.”

  Twenty-eight

  In the end, Ben caved to Eve’s wishes to see Hillary Shipping. The Pool of London was a world apart from the East India docks, and he questioned his good sense now that they had arrived. He tucked Eve under his arm close to his side as the raucous sea of merchants, dock laborers, watermen, and sailors swallowed them. Every few yards, a lightskirt was offering her wares, and if Eve’s round eyes were any indication, she wasn’t missing a single sight.

  “I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he shouted above the noise.

  “I never would have forgiven you if you hadn’t. Are we getting close?” She beamed up at him, and the guilt of exposing her to this part of his life lifted. He was proud to show off his grandfather’s operation, and the empire he and Daniel had built, even if some gentlemen of better ilk looked down on him for his ties to trade. It didn’t stop them from trying to take a piece of his fortune at the gaming tables.

  The roof of the shipping office came into view, and he shouldered through the crowd, sweeping Eve along with him. As he’d come to expect, a queue had formed outside the doors as men waited to be hired on to one of their ships. They cleared a path for him and Eve; a few nodded in greeting, and he reciprocated.

  Inside, the manager was sitting in his usual place behind a sturdy table interviewing a man. He glanced up, his expression solemn. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hillary.”

  Ben took a moment to introduce Eve before showing her into one of the back offices. “This was my grandfather’s office. Not much has changed, other than you’ll find Daniel behind the big desk every morning instead of Grandfather. The lazy cur is too distracted by his family to burn the midnight oil. It’s rare to see him here past noon anymore.”

  They kept a smaller desk in the corner that Ben used before he left for India, but Daniel’s young brother-in-law liked to come to the docks with him and had taken it over. Ben didn’t mind. He preferred his study at home.

  She wandered to the large desk to inspect a miniature of Lisette that Daniel had commissioned an artist to paint. “And where would I find you most mornings?”

  He knew she was asking where he kept an office, but all he could think about was how scrumptious she’d looked this morning when he had woken her. Her mussed hair had made her look as if she’d been well shagged, but she hadn’t. “In bed with you, love.”

  She glanced back over her shoulder, pink sweeping across her cheeks. “Are you implying we will continue sleeping together?”

  Last night he had been aggravated with her for barging in and insisting on sharing his bed, but it was the first night he’d slept without waking in a long time. “I cannot promise there will be much sleep occurring.”

  She replaced the miniature and slowly spun around. When she propped her hands on the desk behind her, her breasts jutted forward and the most depraved images flooded his mind.

  He should have lingered in bed this morning and gotten his fill, but he hadn’t. Blood pounded through his veins as he imagined filling her here on the desk.

  She must have recognized his desire, because her skin flushed all over and her breathing changed.

  Shutters across the window allowed thin slices of light to fall on the plank floor. No one could see inside and no one would interrupt. He turned the key in the lock and raised his eyebrows in question.

  Her skin flushed crimson. “In here? What if someone comes in?”

  He pulled the key from the lock and dangled it in front of him. “No chance of that happening, love.” When he crossed the floor, she pressed back against the desk as if trying to escape, her eyes growing larger the closer he came.

  “But won’t they hear us?” she hissed.

  Reaching her, he slid his hand down to her waist and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Not if you are quiet when I bring you to climax.” He blew a slow stream of air across the rim of her ear. She shivered and he hugged her to bury his face in her neck. She was wearing the scent she’d chosen for their wedding night, and it sparked the most decadent memories.

  She pressed her hands against his chest and looked up at him with a slight tip of her head. After a moment of studying him, she lifted to her toes to place her mouth at his ear. “Do you promise to be quiet too?”

  His grin widened. “I promise no one will have a clue as to what we are doing.” The challenge of making love to his wife while keeping anyone beyond the door ignorant was one he couldn’t resist.

  She leaned against the desk. Her brown eyes glittered in the dim light. A small nod was all the encouragement he needed.

  Grasping one end of the ribbon holding her bonnet in place, he untied the bow and removed it. Wispy rich brown hair fell around her face where the wind had wrestled it loose earlier.

  She was so beautiful. He loved her full mouth and the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her sweet little nose. He loved the warmth of her expressive eyes and smile. “I am the luckiest man alive for being allowed to love you.”

  She skimmed her fingers up and down his arms, creating currents racing through his body. “We are both blessed.”

  He captured her hand to release the tiny buttons on her glove before sliding the kid leather from her fingers. When both gloves were removed and discarded on the desk, she grasped the lapels of his jacket and eased it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor. She moved to his cravat; her lips parted as she concentrated on untying the elaborate knot. He grazed a kiss against her furrowed brow. “Would you like my help?”

  She shook her head.

  He’d known she wouldn’t accept. She had always been determined when it came to figuring out puzzles. Just as she had been determined to unravel him last night when she climbed into his bed. As she untied the first knot, he captured her hands. “Evie.”

  She froze with her ear cocked toward the door. “Is someone coming?” she whispered.

  There was movement in the front room. “I believe Mr. Cullip is gathering his belongings.”

  “Good day, Mr. Hillary. I’m closing up shop.” The manager’s muffled voice carried through the office door.

  “Good day,” Ben called back to him, but he sounded distracted. His gaze was locked on her. Once the outer door slammed shut, he cupped Eve’s bottom and pulled her flush against him. Heat seared her cheeks as his thick shaft pressed against her belly.

  “Do you think he knows what we are doing?” It was unnecessary to whisper now, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “No,” he whispered in return, but the cocky grin on his face said otherwise.

  “You are proud of yourself, aren’t you? I suppose you will be crowing about your prowess next time you strut through the door.”

  He laughed. “I do not strut, nor do I crow. What do you take me for, a rooster?”

  She smiled, because she was teasing and he knew it.

  Ben had always read her correctly. He watched her with such intensity in his blue eyes that her blood began to simmer. “But I am proud of myself for winning you,” he said.

  She fumbled with the buttons on Ben’s waistcoat, but he didn’t brush her hands away to take over. Instead, he kneaded her bottom and nibbled her neck. His mouth created the most delicious sensations and distracted her to no end. When her clumsy fingers released the last button, he lifted her and spun around to plop her bottom on the desk.

  “Ben!”

  He smiled. “Did I surprise you?”

  She laughed and loosened her g
rip on his waistcoat. Never knowing what to expect made life with him thrilling. “I like surprises.”

  “I like you.” He slid his fingers into her hair, and a hairpin pinged against the desk. “A lot,” he murmured, his mouth hovering only a fraction from hers. She leaned toward him, but he pulled back with a teasing grin. When he did kiss her, he rained playful pecks all over her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her lips.

  She groaned in protest and captured his face, pulling him toward her until their mouths collided. The contact ignited a fire in both of them, and they tugged at each other’s clothes in their haste. She shoved his waistcoat from his broad shoulders and grabbed for his cravat. Her fingers worked adeptly this time, and she threw it aside as soon as the last knot released. A triangle of smooth skin showed where his lawn shirt gaped. She placed her lips to his chest, the soft hair tickling her nose, as she dragged the tail of his shirt from his trousers. Tunneling her fingers beneath the shirt, she followed the contours of his muscles and brushed his nipples. They hardened, and she pinched them lightly as he often did to her. He sucked in a breath, encouraging her exploration. She smiled up at him before closing her mouth over the bud and wetting his shirt.

  With a soft growl, he shoved her skirts high on her thighs and kneaded the plump part of her legs. “Blasted drawers,” he grumbled.

  She released his nipple to offer to remove them, but he pulled her from the desk in one quick motion then untied the ribbon around her waist. They fell in a heap at her feet.

  Before she could catch her breath, he whipped her around to loosen the fastenings down the back of her gown and untied her corset. He shoved her skirts and petticoat to her waist, baring her bottom, and bent her over the desk. Her hand slammed into the miniature and knocked it to the floor.

  She peered back over her shoulder, her lips parted in surprise. His eyes glimmered as he held two fingers to his mouth and licked them. With his hand trapping her skirts at her lower back, he slid his fingers between her legs and found her sensitive place. She closed her eyes on a sigh and turned back toward the desk. Legs spread and lying across the oak surface, she’d never felt so vulnerable. Or excited. Her heart knocked so hard against her ribs, she fancied he could hear it.

  He stroked her front to back, back to front slowly over and over before circling the now pulsing bud eager for his touch. She ached deep in her core. He wasn’t taking her fast enough. She tried to stand, but he gently pushed her back down. “I’m not finished with you, Kitten.”

  She whimpered, not caring if she sounded wanton and desperate. He slid a finger inside her, then two to ease her ache. She gripped the edge of the desk, her heart slamming harder. Several featherlight flicks over her spot made her climax hard, and she cried out. Far from the quiet she had promised.

  As he caressed her inner thighs and bottom, she sank on top of the desk. Tingles filtered through her, and the warmth of Ben’s hand on her back seeped through her gown, comforting and welcome. When her breathing began to slow, he slid his hand around to her stomach and helped her stand. She pressed back against him, her head reclining on his shoulder. He kissed her reverently as he caressed from her waist to beneath her breast and back again. “I love you,” he whispered.

  When his knuckles brushed over her nipple, it jutted through the fabric of her gown. She hooked her fingers in the neckline and uncovered herself. He tweaked the tip of her breast and buried his face into her neck. Groping between their bodies, she fondled him through his trousers. He moaned under his breath and pressed into her palm. Four strokes finally broke his restraint, and he tore at the fastenings of his trousers. He entered her from behind, his body cradling hers. With a hand on her hip and another holding her breast, he thrust into her as if desperate to have her, to make her his. She was his and had been from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. He needn’t ever worry about losing her.

  His mouth grazed her ear, his breath ragged and hot. Holding her tightly, he filled her, and when he came, his pleasure seemed to hit him just as hard, and he released a satisfying moan. His arms cradled her against him as his chest rose and fell. He kissed her shoulder then the back of her neck before he released her long enough to turn her within his arms.

  Neither of them spoke as they held each other’s gazes. Words were inadequate anyway. No word existed to describe the strength of her love for him. It was invincible and it made her feel the same. They were invincible together.

  He swept the hair from her temple and kissed her lips softly. “Evie,” he murmured.

  “Me too.”

  He smiled, reluctantly releasing her. “I will help set you back to rights, then we should return home.”

  A lovely fog had settled over her, and she went through the motions of dressing while humming a happy tune. When they both looked presentable again, Ben offered his arm and led her from the office. Outside the main building, he stopped to lock the door before they continued to the quay. The crowd had thinned a bit, but it was still an overwhelming sight. She and Ben strolled arm in arm, her admiring the ships while he guided them in the direction of the carriage.

  “Mr. Hillary!”

  Ben stopped and swung around at the sound of his name. It was Mr. Cullip, Hillary Shipping’s manager, bustling toward them. He’d said he was going home for the day. Eve’s face flooded with heat as she realized he’d likely been making an excuse to allow her and her husband privacy. She released Ben’s arm to pretend fascination with the ships and river, walking a little closer to watch a steamer surge up the river with a cloud of smoke pouring from the stack. To see a barge moving at such a speed was dizzying and quite amazing. She rarely had the privilege.

  Looking over her shoulder, she caught Ben keeping watch over her while Mr. Cullip continued his discourse. She smiled reassuringly and resumed studying the steamer until it had moved too far upriver to see. Backing up, she bumped into someone.

  “Excuse me,” she said and swung around to offer a proper apology. Her eyes flared wide as she found herself standing toe to toe with the man who had followed her and Sir Jonathan to the museum. “It is you.”

  His mouth gaped for a moment before he blurted something in a language she couldn’t understand.

  “I beg your pardon?” She looked for her husband and called out to him. “Ben, this is—”

  The man shoved her out of the way and dashed into the crowd.

  Eve stumbled backward. Her heel hit something solid, and then she was falling. She heard Ben shouting her name before she crashed into the cold river.

  Twenty-nine

  The world around Ben froze. His gaze locked to the place where Eve had disappeared over the quay. He ran to the edge, ripping his coat off.

  Her head bobbed to the surface. She started coughing. Her mouth filled with water as her petticoats and gown dragged her under again.

  Ben tugged off his boots in seconds. Spotting the muted light blue of her skirts through the muddy water, he plunged into the Thames feet first as close to her as possible. The river burned his eyes, but he kept them open. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.

  He’d judged the distance correctly, and she was within his reach. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kicked them toward the surface with Eve limp in his embrace. They broke through the water with shouts of “man overboard” echoing on the air. Someone jumped into the river, splashing him in the face and blinding him for a moment. Turning Eve in his hold, he cradled her back against his chest to keep her face from falling back in the water.

  “Evie, wake up.” He tried to jostle her awake, but her head lolled to the side. “Please, Kitten. Wake up. Talk to me.” He couldn’t feel her chest moving. She wasn’t breathing. A rushing sound filled his ears.

  A man grabbed his shoulder. “Give her to me.”

  “No! I have her.” Ben wouldn’t entrust her to anyone else. Tightening his hold around her chest, he jerked her against him as the man reach
ed for her. He couldn’t let her go. She lurched and began sputtering, coughing up water. Ben held her as violent coughs shook her body repeatedly. A sob built up in his chest, but he held it inside. He had to keep his wits about him to get her to safety. “Help me get her out of the water. She needs a doctor.”

  The man held up the end of a rope. “Let’s get you both on land.”

  Ben nodded and allowed him to tie the rope around Eve’s chest. He checked the knot twice before kissing her cheek. “Raise her up,” he barked.

  Three men standing on the quay heaved on the line, and she began to rise from the river as Ben tried to lift from below. Rivulets of vile water ran from her stockings. She had lost a boot.

  “Ben,” she croaked and reached a hand for him.

  “I’m coming too, Evie. Hold on to the rope.”

  She tried, but her grip was too weak and slipped off.

  A man on the dock tossed another line to Ben, and he secured it around his middle. Now that Eve was being lifted over the side of the quay, he couldn’t get out of the water fast enough. Once a group of sailors pulled him to safety, he crawled the short distance to where Eve lay crumpled on her side in a puddle. Her eyes were closed, but her chest was moving.

  “Eve.” He tugged her into his arms and buried his face in her soaked hair. A tremor shook him. He could have lost her. He still could if she became ill.

  Mr. Cullip knelt beside him, handing him a blanket. “We should get her to your carriage.”

  “Yes.” Ben draped the blanket around her and tried to stand with her in his arms, but his knees buckled.

  One of the men who had rescued them stepped forward. “Let me help, Mr. Hillary.” He had been in the queue outside Hillary Shipping earlier.

  Ben allowed him to take Eve. Mr. Cullip draped a second blanket over Ben’s shoulders and handed his boots to him. Ben shoved them on his feet and accepted Mr. Cullip’s hand up. “Send for Dr. Portier to meet us at the town house.”