Thief Taker

by Camille Oster

  Her pulse flowed strongly around her body, still reacting belatedly at the events of the evening—and with victory. She had faced down incredible odds and had survived. Excitement wanted her to do something; she felt invulnerable and wanted to scream her victory to the sky. She wasn't some weak female to be tossed out on the street and discarded—she would not stand for that, and she hadn't.

  "Take your cape off," he said.

  "I don't have anything on me."

  "You know I can't take your word for it. Turn around." He pulled her arm to force her to turn around. He was going to search her again. "Where have you been tonight, Miss Woodford?"

  "Out."

  "Out where? Dressed like this? Been strolling along the roof tops by any chance?"

  "No," she lied blatantly. It had to be done.

  "Then where could you have gone in such unusual attire?" He kicked her feet to make her step them apart, exactly like he had done last time, but she didn't feel the fear or confusion like she had last time. This was becoming part of their routine. "Place your hands on the wall."

  "This really isn't necessary, Mr. Cox."

  "Oh, I think it is."

  "You know full well that I don't have whatever you're looking for."

  "Perhaps," he said, "but I can hardly say in my report that I took your word for it. We both know where you've been tonight—dressed like this, clearly not wanting to be seen."

  "Maybe I had an assignation," she challenged.

  "An assignation," he chuckled. "What do you know of assignations?" He moved closer to her. "I hardly think so. And this isn't the appropriate wear for assignations—restricts access." His hands were on her back; she felt the heat of them through her shirt, which was thin. "Assignation is all about access." Forbidden images flitted through her mind as his hands roamed up her back, causing a curious sensation that flowed down her spine and along her legs. It hadn't felt quite like this last time, finding herself more curious than offended. She'd been prepared for it this time and his words around assignations spun around her head. He would likely have had some experience in that regard, while she, on the other hand, was completely innocent of such things. This was the closest a man had ever been to her—again.

  His hands roamed over her shoulders and down her arm, goose-bumps raising painfully as he went. Down to her hands, where his fingers flowed into hers, searching her palms, grazing the soft skin gently. His hands were rough, but strong and the unencumbered touch sent delectable sensations flowing up her arms. They moved to her hips and her muscles contracted along her spine and her front as his hands moved up her sides, sliding over every sensitive contour. She had to bite her lip. The feelings he generated in her were … inappropriate, forbidden, sultry. She tried to find the right word, but nothing fit. Not even thoughts were fitting properly in her mind at the moment and she gasped as his hands cupped around her breasts. Heat flared in her belly as she'd never known existed. She fought an urge to lean back into his solid form, feel him along her back. Every part of her seemed to welcome this touch and she wanted him to stay, but his hands kept moving, grazing past the sensitive peaks of her breasts, up to her neck.

  His arms snaked out from under her arms and she felt the loss of them until they returned high on the back of her neck, running up into her scalp. Closing her eyes, she felt his fingers run along her head. Her lips ached, she noted. She wanted him to kiss her. The thought flashed through her mind shockingly. She wanted his firm lips on hers, devouring her hungrily. He was so close, she could hear his breath, steady and strong—like his hands.

  Crouching down, his hand ran along her spine, lower, to the flare of her hips and around the curve of her backside. She stopped herself from leaning into his hands as they ran down the back of her thigh, and held her breath painfully as they gently ran up the insides, even though she wanted to breathe like she'd just run a mile. If he touched the apex of her thighs, she thought she'd melt. There was such heat there.

  Utterly embarrassed at her reaction, she forcefully suppressed the urge to push back into his hands. She never felt like this before, but knew she wanted him to do to her what men did to women. She wasn't entirely sure what that consisted of, but she wanted it—an assignation. To let him go where he wasn't supposed to go—the part that she'd been told to keep protected at all costs, the part that was burning so fiercely right now.

  A wince escaped her lips as his hands ran along her knees and down to her feet. She stepped on one foot at the merest urge to let him search the other, then repeated with the other. His fingers trace along the sole of her foot and she wasn't sure she could stand anymore, but he was done—and she was undone.

  He urged her around to face him. "This isn't worth dying for," he said in a gravelly, somber tone. She could only watch his lips move, sorry this was over. Stunned, she wasn't sure how she felt about her own reaction. Part of her was mortified, but the other wanted more. "If you start taking risks like that, I swear I will watch you wherever you go."

  "You already do." Watching his strong neck, she saw his pulse beat. Pressing her lips together, she resisted an urge to put her lips there, feel its feather beat. She also wanted to reach her hand out and touch him.

  He said nothing more, just stood there. Serephina didn't want this to be over. As if hearing her, he stepped a little closer, exactly like he had when he was intimidating her—but she wasn't intimidated now, just exhilarated. His breath was heavy on her temple and she looked up at him, unable to make out the lost look in his eyes.

  Placing the lengths of his lower arms on the wall beside her head, he moved even closer, his body was just about touching hers. Reaching out, she touched his stomach, feeling the solid mass of him. Her heart stopped as he leaned down toward her lips, touching ever so slightly, while Serephina felt like flood gates were opening. Leaning into the kiss, she moaned as the sweetness hit her. His lips were firm, moving against hers, demanding more. She could feel him now, along her body.

  Instinctively, she parted her lips for him, letting his tongue sneak into her mouth, feeling like there was so much more to come, but this was absolutely just heaven.

  He wrenched himself from her, stepping back like he'd been burnt, looking absolutely furious. "You will not tempt me," he said harshly. "You are a criminal and you will face justice. Do not toy with me." Lightning anger flashed through his eyes as he turned and walked away, powerful steps striding down the street. "Next time, I won't lose."

  Standing where she was, Serephina brought her fingers up to her lips, trying to settle the tingling. Closing her eyes, she let the taste of him linger, unable to believe what had just happened, and how she had reacted. She'd let him kiss her—not let, urged him—wanted it more than anything she'd ever experienced. A shuddering sigh wracked her body and she realized that she would have let him take her virtue if he'd asked for it. She would have ruined herself just to have him touch her. Mr. Cox was by far the most dangerous man in the world.

  Chapter 20:

  * * *

  How dare he accuse her of being a temptress, as if she'd done that on purpose. He was the one who'd run his hands all over her. She shivered with the residual touch that refused to relent and crossed her arms as she continued pacing around her bedroom. Although it was shocking how undone she'd been as a result, giving herself over to the kiss. And what a kiss.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to forget, but there was no way her mind would let her, drawing her back there again and again, pointing out that it wanted more of. The touch lingering playfully on her lips, still.

  He was completely inappropriate in every possible way, never mind the fact that he wanted to put her in prison—with an utterly single-minded pursuit.

  The truth was that she'd never come close to responding like that to any man—not that she'd really kissed anyone like that, but she'd never been drawn to a man the way she had that night.

  No, this was getting too dangerous, on more levels than the fact that he'd been there that night when she'd e
merged from Lord Harriston's house. How had he known where to find her? She had picked an expensive but muted target, but he had still found her. That had been all too close.

  Sitting down on the chair by her dresser, she wrapped her arms around herself and was immediately reminded of a stronger pair of arms that had for a short while been wrapped around her as well. The thought drove her out of the seat again. She couldn't believe what she'd been prepared to do, probably right there on the street like some alley cat.

  She had to finish this game, finish this dance with Mr. Cox—it would ruin her one way or another. Turning to the bed, she tried to imagine what it would be like to be with a man—to lie entwined in his arms, kissing at leisure. Tingly goose-bumps rose across her skin. She had some inkling of the extreme emotions that would go with such an encounter.

  If she could stop right now, she would, but she had to see this last bit through before she could retire for good—just to complete the wedding. But she had to be smarter and build more protection strategies around her—she just didn't know what else she could do. The necklace she had pursued last time had been expensive—perhaps he had spotted that. He had an extraordinary eye for jewelry, but then he was a policeman and maybe they had to be in the course of their work. Hence, something less expensive it was then.

  Duchess Solley's Spring Ball was on the agenda and Millie was excited. It would be the first event where Captain Heresworth would take her as his fiancée. Their engagement had been announced in The Times and the whole world knew. Letters of congratulations had been flooding in over the last day or so, proving how popular and well-liked Millie was.

  Millie looked beautiful in a light-blue satin gown, while Serephina wore a pink one. It wasn't her favorite, but it was a nice enough gown.

  The wait for the carriage allowed her to survey the street and there was no sign of Mr. Cox. She both wanted to see him and not at the same time. There was a kind of tension in her that was related to him and it now had more to do with the kiss than apprehension that he was closing in on her activities.

  Finally they descended from the carriage and walked up the brightly lit stairs, where footmen stood to attention on either side. Bright, golden light shone out of every window. Duchess Solley's Spring Ball was a famous event which anyone attending the season would stay for, even though the season was drawing to an end. And truly, Serephina wouldn't be sorry to see the end of it because it had been a uniquely stressful event for her.

  Captain Heresworth was waiting patiently by the entrance and smiled broadly as he spotted Millie. They kissed chastely in greeting, which was allowed now that they were engaged. It was time for Millie to be introduced to society as the future Mrs. Heresworth, and she beamed at the prospect.

  The ballroom was crowded and noisy, full to capacity and beyond. There were so many finely dressed people, the eye couldn't take in all the color and sparkle. All the windows had been opened to let in fresh air as the air threatened to be overbearingly hot and stuffy with the sheer amount of people.

  There would be dancing later and Serephina had her empty dance card dangling from her wrist. It would probably remain unfilled as her role tonight was to serve as chaperone.

  Persons were congratulating the couple on their engagement and Serephina stood behind a bit, happy for Millie to have her time in the spotlight. Growing up, this had been the goal to attain—the introduction to the world as some handsome man's fiancée.

  "Congratulations," Millie's friend Sarah said, giving Mille an embrace before coming to stand by Serephina while another friend took their turn to congratulate her. Serephina had always liked Sarah, but the age difference had always set them apart, but less so now. Seeing her made Serephina miss her friends who were now all married and settled into domesticity. "You must be so proud," Sarah said.

  "I am," Serephina replied.

  "Well, it is high time we find someone for you too." Sarah squeezed her arms and Serephina blinked with the unexpected comment. "You are much too pretty to not marry."

  "Once Millie is settled, I should perhaps start thinking about it."

  "I will too. I am sure we can find the perfect chap for you."

  A stray thought of Mr. Cox entered her head and she wanted to laugh. As far as he was from the kind of chap Sarah had in mind, he was the one that had made her body flush—perhaps in a way she shouldn't react at all. Gentle and respectful love and regard was the ideal—something she wasn't sure Mr. Cox could ever manage. Not that this train of thought served any purpose. They could never be. They were from two different worlds—worlds that didn't really cross, other than the fact that they occupied the same city.

  Lady Tessborne and Mr. Weaverly approached the group in the slow gait of people who knew their place in the world was beyond reproach. Lady Tessborne had a bird's plume in her hair and it bobbed when she moved hair head. Serephina supposed it was a guaranteed way to find her in this crowd as it stuck up over everyone's heads. "I hear congratulations are in order," the woman said in a clipped and bored tone. She considered Millie. "You are a pretty thing," she said without affection. "Young men will do anything for a pretty thing, and your father has relented, I hear." She turned a stark stare on Captain Heresworth. Clearly, she didn't approve of the match. "Lucky thing that girls can turn the heads of young men when they have nothing to promote themselves."

  Serephina clenched her fists. It was well-known that Lady Tessborne had brought fifty thousand pounds a year into her marriage, and obviously that made her a better person than Millie. Millie's circumstances were as much in her control as Lady Tessborne's had been. It was all just happenstance of birth. Serephina wanted to shout that it was the fineness of her character that Captain Heresworth appreciated, which was a far better and truer thing than being appreciated for the size of one's purse.

  "What an odious creature," Sarah said and Serephina was glad it wasn't only her that thought so.

  "Apparently she has enough wealth to allow her to say anything she wants."

  Lady Tessborne moved on, her nose held high, after leaving them with her verdict. The woman and her escort were coming their way and it was irrelevant that Serephina and Sarah were currently occupying their path—they were expected to move out of the way.

  Serephina wanted to cross her arms and stay put like a stubborn mule, but she also knew that it was best not to rock the boat as this woman had clout that could hurt anyone who challenged her. To challenge her publicly was not an option, particularly as Millie's position was still precarious until the wedding was over, but Serephina knew a way she could enact her protest.

  Stepping aside, she let the awful woman pass, but she had her next target and she didn't care what the jewel was like. She would fill her purse and she didn't care with what.

  Millie looked hurt by the cut and Serephina wanted to strangle the woman. This was Millie's big day ahead of the wedding; how could that cow of a woman be so cruel? Smiling tightly, Serephina checked her composure.

  The woman had a very grand house on Grosvenor Square and it was about to be struck by unfortunate luck. Actually, Serephina wanted to claim a headache and run over there right now, but she had to be calm and think this through—much depended on it. An impassioned reaction would only lead to trouble.

  "Don't worry, Millie," she said to the crumpled face of her sister. "The woman is bitter from a long, cold marriage, making her unable to tolerate happiness in others."

  "Do you really think so?"

  "Of course. I'm sure her husband escapes the room whenever she enters. Can't be fun having to chase one’s husband around such a house, where there are so many nooks and crannies for him to hide in." Millie giggled and Serephina was proud of herself for turning the situation around. "Now, isn't it about time that handsome fiancé of yours takes you for a turn on the dance floor?"

  Chapter 21:

  * * *

  Rowan sat quietly in a chair in Lady Tessborne's darkened bedroom. Lord Stansom had been adamant that Miss Woodford had taken
a substantial dislike to the woman, bristling with indignity was how it had been described to him. Rowan knew this would be her target and now he sat and waited. It wouldn't be long. Anticipation coursed through his veins to the point where he was having trouble making himself keep still. This felt like the conclusion that had been a long time coming—also inevitable.

  He wanted a drink, but he needed his wits about him as she was clever, having eluded him so many times before. Not this time; this time she was his, and the anticipation was heady.

  Closing his eyes, the kiss fleeted back into his mind. It should never have happened; she'd got to him, seeped into his brain and accessed his ardor. That should never have happened, hence he needed this concluded, and quickly. He dreamt of her, and apparently she drew him like a magnet when she was near. Now she would be caught and he would be released from this thing between them.

  A small creak came from out in the hall and Rowan held his breath. Silently a figure moved into the room and headed toward the dresser. Rising out of his chair, he heart beating powerfully. The game was on—and as soon as he could establish her identity, he had proof of her unlawfully entering a house. His clothes made the tiniest of sounds and she froze, whipped around and dashed for the door. He dove to block her way, but didn't reach her in time as she slipped through into the hall.

  Scrambling, he got up and followed her out. His fall meant she'd gained a few seconds on him and he considered which way she'd go. The roof was her natural domain. Forcing his legs to move he gained on her, hoping to catch her while still in the house. History had proven she wasn't unwilling to take risk and he didn't want to see her hurt.

  She was just ahead of him and he was just about reaching her when suddenly she crouched into a ball and he was moving too fast to react. His leg caught on her body and his momentum kept him going, tripping over her and toward the stairs where he landed painfully, continuing down over its uneven surface, unable to stop his descent. The landing half way down the stairs winded him and he felt a shooting pain down one of his sides.