Song of My Heart

by Barbara Baldwin

  What did she see, he wondered, steadily returning her gaze. Did she sense how much he wanted her; how he longed to claim her for his own? He placed her hand on his chest for her to feel the hammering of his heart.

  And then it didn’t matter at all. With a groan, he pulled her to him and crushed her lips beneath his. Her sharp intake of breath only gave him the opening he needed to plunge his tongue into the hot crevice of her mouth and taste her more fully. He felt her capitulate, her body softening against his frame when his hands slid up her back.

  He was caught off guard when she suddenly pushed against his shoulders.

  “How can you kiss me like that after what you did?”

  Max thought the fire in her green eyes only made her more beautiful. He looked at her lips pressed into an angry scowl and recalled the sweet taste of them. He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away. Apparently she had something else on her mind at the moment.

  “What I did…when?” He wasn’t about to admit wrongdoing until he knew what exact incident she referred to.

  “Downtown this afternoon. Don’t tell me you conveniently forgot.”

  So, she had seen Monty. It confirmed what Adam had told him. He contemplated all the excuses he might use, but in the end decided it wasn’t quite time to reveal the truth. Now that he knew his brother was close, he needed to find him and send him home. He was the investigator; Monty was the businessman.

  “Did I not explain at the time?”

  “Yes, you said we were looking for anyone suspicious, but you left without a word.” She sounded hurt, and he silently cursed Monty for causing her distress.

  “There was no time,” Max said softly, taking a step to close the distance between them. He placed his hands on the wall to either side of her head, effectively pinning her in place.

  “I don’t think I like this investigating work if you mean to leave me lurking on street corners.” She looked at him from beneath the full sweep of her lashes.

  “Then perhaps we should find you another career to pursue.” Her scent rose to engulf him, and he found it hard to concentrate on any conversation.

  Abby idly traced the pattern on the lapel of his robe. He bit back a groan.

  “Did you have one in mind?” Her hand continued up his lapel to the back of his neck where her fingers tangled in his hair.

  “Not at the moment.” He bent to kiss her and felt her rise on tiptoe to meet his mouth. Her passion for kissing matched his own, and while he knew he was playing with fire, he wasn’t about to deny the pleasure they seemed mutually inclined to pursue.

  Without breaking the kiss, he bent and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to a high, wing-backed chair beside the fire. Sitting with her on his lap, he explored her skin at his leisure, tasting, nipping, licking. He couldn’t get enough of her. She tipped her head back, allowing him to place kisses at will.

  Even when he opened her robe and slid the strap of her nightgown down her arm, she didn’t protest. She gazed at him with such trust in her eyes, Max was humbled. Did he have the right to take what she offered? In her innocence, she had no idea where it might lead.

  Abby saw the hesitation in Max’s eyes and felt him tense. Because of the way she’d been reared, she couldn’t fathom ever feeling undeserving. How could she make him understand his worth?

  She took his hand and placed it on her breast, expressing without words the gift she wanted to bestow on him. She let her eyes tell him what he needed to know—that she thought him wonderful and very dear to her heart—words better off unspoken at this time.

  As his fingers curled under the edge of her nightgown to slide it from her breast, she instinctively knew he could relieve the intense pleasure-pain that snaked its way through her belly. His gaze never left hers as he ever-so-tenderly caressed her breast, then used only one finger to circle the crest before rolling her nipple between his thumb and finger.

  She arched her back. This was what she wanted, what she needed. A soft cry involuntarily slipped from her throat into the still night. Max lowered his head and nipped her breast, gently, but the feeling was so intense, she shuddered.

  “Sh, sh, sweetheart. It’ll be all right.” Max breathed the words against her skin, her soft breast exposed to both his sight and his taste. He had never felt this way—this incredible, aching need to give another pleasure before his own. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, laving the tip with his tongue and hearing her groans in every fiber of his being.

  His hand slid across her belly, feeling the tightening of her muscles as her body began to recognize his touch. Her reaction told him she was an innocent, and for this night, he would allow her to maintain at least some of that innocence. But he wouldn’t release her until he finished what they’d started and gave her the pleasure she deserved. He only prayed his control would last.

  Every touch of his hand caused Abby to squirm more. It felt so right. She instinctively squeezed her legs together when his hand slid along her calf to her knee, then higher. He released her breast, and she felt his hot breath on her throat. He kissed a scorching path up her neck to her ear.

  “Open for me, sweet angel,” he whispered, then sucked the lobe of her ear. It was her undoing. Her legs relaxed. She never wanted this feeling to end—this exquisite ache that threatened to tear her apart.

  She cried aloud when he stroked her most private place. His hand was hot where he cupped her. Her body was so acutely sensitive that when he touched a finger just inside, she convulsed in ecstasy.

  “Max!” Rainbows of color streaked behind her closed eyes and her body shook. Tingling sensations swept her body from her woman’s core outward.

  Max swallowed her cries, his heart beating fiercely as he took her to the heights of ecstasy. His finger remained within her, the throbbing pulse of her channel squeezing around him. It had taken only a touch to make her climax. He didn’t know if that was due to her inexperience or if she was naturally sensual and easily aroused. His own sex throbbed painfully beneath her rounded bottom, but he told himself it didn’t matter. She’d given him a gift worth any amount of sacrifice. By giving herself, she had shown her complete trust in him.

  * * *

  Abby couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep on his lap, not after what they’d done. He shifted, his arms curled tightly around her, and she turned her head to kiss the soft skin of his neck. When she finally looked at him, his smile gentled the harsh lines of his face. Her heart turned over.

  “All right?” he asked softly.

  “Mmmm.” Abby wasn’t inclined to move.

  “We’d better get you back to your own bed before the household staff begins to stir.”

  Abby moaned in protest, but he stood, setting her on her feet in front of him.

  “Did we finish our discussion?” Since they’d gotten sidetracked, she wasn’t sure she’d gotten her point across that she would not be left behind on his investigations.

  “We are far from done with our discussions,” he answered cryptically.

  “Well, then?” She stopped when he tried to propel her to the door.

  “There’s nothing that can’t wait for another time.” He opened the door cautiously, looking both ways before allowing her to step into the hallway.

  At the door to her bedroom, she turned. “Kiss me good night.”

  He laughed quietly. “I think we have done quite enough kissing for one night, don’t you?”

  She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. “No.” Not giving him the chance to protest, she rose on tiptoe, pulling his head down to meet her mouth. Her fingers circled his ears; her tongue traced the edge of his lips. She thought perhaps he would surrender when he pulled her close.

  Max knew if he allowed it, Abby would seduce him right in the hallway of his aunt’s residence. Her passion for all things flowed very close to the surface, and now that he’d awakened her sexual desires, he wondered how to keep her in check. Summoning his control, he reluctantly broke off their kiss, but she kep
t her hands on the sides of his head.

  “I like your ears.” She giggled, tracing the shell of his ears and sending tingles down his spine.

  “What?”

  “Well, you see, Dilbert has rather large ears that stick straight out.” She bent his ears forward in demonstration. Laughter glittered in her eyes, and even though she spoke of another man, Max knew he was falling in love.

  “And how do you know that? Were you often close enough to good ol’ Dilbert to notice his ears?”

  “Even from a distance, Dilbert Crabtree’s ears were… prominent.” She tweaked his ear lobes, turned and ran into her room, closing the door behind her. Max heard her giggle, and the sound of it was music to his soul.

  “Good night, angel mine.”

  * * *

  The telegram came the next morning.

  Ruined! Half a million gone!

  Why haven’t you found him?

  M.G.

  Even from halfway across the country, Michael Grant still blamed Max for whatever ills the family encountered.

  Cursing, he balled the paper and hurled it toward the fire.

  Apparently the theft involved much more than just warehouse merchandise. That must have been the reason Monty had left in such a hurry. Max recalled his father’s comment about Monty’s nervousness. Knowing his brother wouldn’t have left town except under dire circumstances, Max felt all the more driven to find him. Their father was right about one thing—Monty didn’t have any idea what he would run up against.

  “Max?”

  He turned at the sound of Abby’s voice. She stood just inside the door, breathtaking in a lush gold morning dress that complemented the delicate porcelain quality of her skin. Her hair was held back with pearl combs, the auburn curls cascading down her back.

  Her lips curved into a smile, and he recalled their sweet taste. She didn’t appear to regret last night. He should have known she wouldn’t become a clinging female after he had bestowed attention on her. Still, he thought it might be pleasant if she showed that she still desired him. To be sure, he ached just at the sight of her.

  “What’s this?” She bent to retrieve the wadded piece of paper, smoothing it against the front of her skirts.

  “Just another of my father’s lectures, albeit by wire instead of in person.” He heard the bitterness in his voice and wondered if he would always feel guilty when it came to his father.

  Abby was silent for a moment, scanning the missive.

  “Oh, Max.” She looked up, her green eyes shimmering. One blink, and crystal drops coursed down her cheeks. Twin spots of color heightened her cheeks and her hands began to tremble.

  He hurried around his desk. Taking both hands in his, he brought them to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

  She sniffed. “I think your father is a rather rude person.”

  “You’re crying because my father is offensive?”

  “No, I’m crying because he is unfairly offensive to you.”

  Max laughed, giving her a hug. “I will never understand females. You wouldn’t make much of an investigator with your soft heart. No doubt you would let all the felons go for the price of a sad story.”

  She pushed him away. “I have seen the gentle side of you, too, Maxwell Grant, and yet you are a magnificent investigator.”

  “It is only with you that I am gentle,” he answered, touched by her always-ready defense of him. “Magnificent, huh?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head.” She rang for coffee and sat demurely on the couch by the hearth. “Tell me what you’ve learned while you were working and not allowing me to help.”

  “Abby—”

  She waved a hand. “All right. I suppose there are certain things only you can manage.”

  “You are too generous.” He sat across from her. A servant brought in a tray with coffee and cakes. He waited until everything had been set properly on the low table and the servant had left, closing the door behind him.

  “Monty is in town.” He opened the conversation while she poured their coffee.

  “But why isn’t he here, staying with your Aunt Elizabeth?”

  “I wish I knew. I’ve left word for him at his hotel, but he doesn’t seem to want to show himself.”

  Abby’s forehead furrowed as she sipped her coffee.

  Max sat back and simply enjoyed watching her think.

  “I don’t know your brother, but you don’t suppose he’s more deeply involved in this than you or your father suspect?”

  “I have no idea. Monty was responsible for all the family business matters. I can’t imagine him involved in anything shady. He is totally devoted to my father and his family. He wouldn’t risk losing everything.”

  “So if Monty is on the trail of Jerome Smith’s killer, and we are looking for a scar-faced man who had his watch, then perhaps the two are somehow connected after all.”

  “That now appears highly likely.” He frowned at the thought of his brother cornering a killer.

  “What if Monty finds him first?”

  “He won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  He knew Abby wasn’t questioning his ability. She just had an inquisitive nature.

  “Remember, Montgomery is a businessman. I am the investigator.” He decided now was the time to tell her what he and Hickory had learned at the jail. “Besides, I believe the man we’re looking for was also involved with the train robbery at Carson.” He took a bite of the sugar cake he liked so well.

  “Really? Are you sure it’s him this time?”

  He detected a hint of humor in her voice. “He fits your description and goes by the name of John Dillon.”

  She took another sip of coffee. “I never knew the man’s name. I just remember what he looked like. When can I see this John Dillon to determine if he’s the right man?”

  “Unfortunately, we have a name and description, but the man is not in custody. I have the feeling he’s here in the city, so I have some men looking for him. He gambles for a living, so it shouldn’t be hard tracking him down. Though most of the saloons offer gaming tables, the high stakes games are conducted with somewhat more decorum.”

  “Well, I’m certainly glad to hear we’re making progress on that accord.” She set her cup and saucer back on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “I’d best tell your aunt I won’t be able to accompany her to Jacob’s soiree today so I can practice. I haven’t played since Chicago.”

  Max should have seen it coming, he really should have. “Played what?”

  “Why, poker, of course. What did you think?” She gazed at him with wide-eyed innocence. Then her mouth quirked upward in a grin.

  “Abby, we’ve discussed this before.”

  “Yes, and every time you say you don’t need me, but you really do. I am the only one who can identify the scar-faced man. If indeed, he is also the killer, he’s more likely to slip up and say something around a woman. After all, women are notoriously flighty and think only frivolous thoughts.”

  Max blew out his breath.

  “We don’t even know for sure it’s one and the same man, do we?” she asked. “Until you find Monty, all we have is supposition.”

  He returned to his desk where he picked up the paper he’d discarded earlier. “That’s true. So we wait until we have something more concrete.” Slowly, he lowered the paper, peering over the edge to where she remained on the sofa. She was staring into space, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “Abby?” The stubborn tilt of her chin spelled trouble.

  “Hmm?” She turned, eyebrows raised in question.

  “We wait. Do you understand?”

  She released a little sigh. “But—”

  He growled, hoping to scare her into following his lead this time.

  “Oh, all right, if you insist.”

  Max went back to reading the paper, knowing full well she didn’t agree with him at all.

  Chapter Nine

  Two nights later, Max descended the stair
s, silently let himself out the front door, then used the knocker and waited to be readmitted. As usual, Hickory opened the door.

  “Good evening, sir,” the servant stated, bowing low.

  “Is Mrs. Gentry at home this evening?” Max asked in a deep southern drawl.

  Hickory gave him a funny look. “I will see if she is receiving, sir. May I tell her who’s calling?”

  “Jeffery Markham III, of the Virginia Markham’s.” Max handed him a card.

  “Very good. If you will wait just a minute.” Hickory turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving Max standing on the doorstep.

  He grinned to himself, resisting the urge to adjust his blond wig and side-whiskers. His disguise probably hadn’t fooled Hickory, but he felt it was good enough to fool John Dillon.

  “This way, sir.” Hickory opened the door wider to allow him entrance.

  He walked into the parlor where Libby and Abby were deep in discussion. He hoped they weren’t planning the party he’d heard mentioned at breakfast. He detested social functions and only hoped Libby wouldn’t pressure him to attend.

  At Hickory’s harrumph, both women looked up.

  Max stepped forward and bowed over Libby’s hand. “Mrs. Gentry, it is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The drawl he’d perfected over the years was deep and slow.

  Libby’s eyes twinkled as she acknowledged his greeting. “Mr. Markham, did you say? I happen to be related to some Markhams, but they fared from Boston, not Virginia.” She pursed her lips. “Do you perchance know of them?”

  Max returned her sally without so much as a blink. “The Markham name is known throughout the eastern seaboard, not only for their shipbuilding ability, but for the loveliness of their women.” He winked overtly at his aunt.

  She laughed at his flirtation. “You are most certainly a Markham, sir. If I hadn’t recognized you by your features, I most certainly would have by your audacity.”

  Abby’s silk skirts rustled when she shifted in her seat.

  “Oh, dear, I am sorry, Abby. I didn’t intend to be rude,” Libby said. “Mr. Markham, may I introduce my companion, Miss Abigail O’Brien, of Boston.”