by Kresley Cole
She caught his gaze. He looked crazed, tortured, his control gone, and that took her over the edge. She cried out, convulsing around him, riding him, rolling her hips as he ground into her, making the pleasure too strong.... He watched her climax, his eyes dark and wild on her, fierce with want.
She was still squeezing around him when he wrenched her down against his chest, so rigid and wracked under her hands, until he yelled her name and his hot seed pumped into her.
Thirty-three
Diffused sunlight split the curtains in Victoria's room, waking Grant. When he looked down his chest, he was startled to see waves of blond hair covering him. Could he be so fortunate? Could he truly have spent the early hours of the morning making love to her and not just dreamed it again? Yes, last night had been real--incredibly, vividly real.
He was still alarmed by his want of her. Sometimes he felt craven with it. But now, with her sleeping form against his chest, his arms around her, he just wanted to squeeze her, to clasp her tight to him so she could know his feelings for her, how they confounded him in their strength. He'd never thought to have this and flinched to think how close he'd come to throwing it away.
He wanted to luxuriate in simply holding her, but knew he needed to ascertain the damage to the barn and get work under way, so with a weary exhalation, he rose and dressed. Careful not to wake her after the long night, he kissed her before leaving.
When he reached the valley, he saw that no part of the structure remained. In its place was a mound of smoking ash. Grant found Huckabee there and conferred with him, and they set the few who were there to work cleaning the old site.
Grant's first job was to find more workers. His second was to discover who'd dealt them this blow.
Stunned by the events of last night, Tori sat at her grandfather's desk, her emotions hurtling from elation that she and Grant had made love once more to devastation over the fire. When Grant strode through the doorway, she didn't even ask how bad it was. She could already tell from the tightness around his eyes.
He exhaled, then shook his head.
"Right before shearing and lambing," she said in a deadened tone. "Nothing could have hurt us worse."
When Grant raised his eyebrows, she realized she'd said "us." It didn't matter. He'd find out sooner or later that she wasn't letting him leave.
He sank down in the chair across from her and reviewed what he and Huckabee had decided for the rebuilding. "I hope I didn't overstep."
"No, I agree with everything you've said," Tori assured him. "I wouldn't have handled it differently."
He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. "Victoria, we need to talk about the actual fire. It was deliberately set."
"That's impossible--"
"I smelled kerosene. There was a puddle of water actually burning, and a section of sodden clay as well. As if someone had pitched the kerosene all around the ground."
She grabbed her forehead. "Why?"
"To send you a warning, I suspect. Or to make you vulnerable."
"Who? Who would--" She broke off as a suspicion arose. "I wrote a letter to the broker just a couple days ago. He'd been shorting us for years. He owes us a huge amount."
"McClure?"
At her nod, he said, "I want a list of all the creditors."
An hour later, after poring over contracts, Grant muttered, "Son of a bitch."
"What?"
"This credit company--West London Financiers. That's the broker's company. M. McClure." He sat at the edge of the desk and slid the documents to her.
"That can't be. Wouldn't there be a conflict of interest?"
"Yes, but this company's as shady as they come. They offer favorable rates of interest, yet in all their contracts they reserve the right to escalate the rate. Just when the borrower has difficulties, McClure tightens the noose."
"How do you know all this?"
"Because several years ago, Ian was in to them for thousands of pounds. He had to borrow money just to pay off McClure's henchmen."
"Oh, my Lord."
"This man was lending the earl what was in essence his own money. He'd cheat Belmont and then extend the earl's credit. There can be no doubt that he wants this place."
She was silent for some time. "Now I know why you put such a high value on your honor." Her eyes were sad. "Because you've dealt with those who have none."
He said nothing.
"Grant, what should I do?" she asked. "Go to the sheriff? Bring the law into this?"
"It won't stop another attack."
Her eyes widened. "You think something like this will happen again?"
He regarded her with a grim expression. "No doubt of it."
She suddenly felt very tired. "What do you suggest?"
"I'd already made up my mind to confront McClure." His eyes narrowed. "Have the bastard beaten if necessary."
Tori was astonished. He looked dark and forbidding.
"If I have to, then I'll play his game to protect what's..." He trailed off.
"What's yours," she said quietly. "Like the estate."
He pulled her up to him and put his forehead to hers. "I wasn't speaking of the estate. I meant you."
"How should I know that?" she whispered.
"Because you are what I came back here to fight for."
She leaned back, shaking her head. "You don't have to say these things. You came back for the estate, and I understand why--"
"The deed is in your name."
"Wh-What?" she sputtered.
He stroked her cheek. "It has been since before I returned here."
"So why?..."
"I couldn't conceive of a better way to be around you."
"So you came back for me?" Her heart beat madly. For me?
He nodded solemnly.
"That was your plan?"
"It's always good to have a plan."
She gave him a wry grin. "How's it working out?"
The corners of his lips quirked up. "I am quite optimistic after last night."
"I can't believe you gave it up for me."
He turned from her and his face hardened. "It's not going to matter if McClure burns your home down around you. That's why I'm leaving today--"
"I'm going with you," she interrupted.
He smiled ruefully. "Why did I expect you to say that? I'd already planned to drop you at Whitestone."
She raised her eyebrows at him.
"It's not safe here, and you're not going to London."
"I most certainly am going with you. Or without you," she added ominously.
"This is dangerous. There's no way I'm risking you being hurt. You're going to Whitestone and that's final."
She tapped her cheek and assumed a thoughtful expression. "I hadn't thought your family the type to tie someone down or lock them in a bedchamber."
He looked nonplussed.
"That's the only way they'll keep me there."
"Forget it, Victoria. There's simply no way I'll allow it."
"I can't believe you're still grousing," Victoria said lightly as they walked arm in arm along a side street in London.
He scowled down at her, trying to ignore how excited--and beguiling--she looked with her bonnet ribbons flapping against her pink cheeks. He wanted to kiss her and draw her close. Instead, he grumbled, "I can't believe you manipulated me into taking you with me."
She smiled up at him, eyes adoring. When she looked at him like that, he could deny her nothing. Worse, he feared she'd concluded that as well.
"Grant, I just appealed to your logic. If you'd left me at Whitestone, I'd have followed. Only then I wouldn't have been be under your watchful eye for protection. Imagine me"--she put her hand to her breast--"on the road to London, alone, afraid..."
His lips curled. She smiled back, then looked past him. "Wait, this is it."
He stopped her, placing her to face him. "I want you to say nothing. I'm going to handle this."
She rolled her eyes. "As you've told me
twenty times already."
Grant made some growling noise at her and then opened the door for them. "We're here to see Mr. McClure," he said to the office attendant.
The young man looked confused but went to confer with his employer. Minutes later, he returned to show them into the office.
One look at the broker had Grant raising his eyebrows and Victoria dropping her jaw.
M. McClure was a woman.
Thirty-four
Tori inwardly groaned when the woman surveyed Grant appreciatively. She smoothed her shining, dark blond hair and sauntered up to him with a hand out. "Miranda McClure," she announced. He clasped her hand, but she thrust it into his palm so that they shook like men.
"Grant Sutherland," he answered in a discomfited voice. Young and alluring, Miranda was probably the last thing he'd expected.
Miranda's gaze flew to Tori, her ice-blue eyes narrowed into a censorious look. "You must be Lady Victoria. How strange, I didn't know you were connected with a Sutherland."
Grant moved closer to Tori. "She's my fiancee."
A pained smile of ruby lips. "How charming."
"Where's Mr. McClure?"
"My father passed away some months ago," she said with a sigh, looking very aggrieved. "I'm handling his affairs now."
Tori was about to offer condolences, but Grant said, "Let's not waste each other's time. We know your father was bilking the earl out of a fortune and then lending it back to him at astronomical rates."
Tori gaped as the woman's look of sorrow disappeared as if never there. Miranda shrugged prettily. "I'm afraid that's the nature of business. And I believe those notes are due directly."
"Is that why you set the fire?"
"You don't expect me to walk into that one, do you?" She feigned a look of horror. "A fire? My goodness!" Her expression turned wooden. "If I were responsible, I'd never admit it."
"That's not a problem. I'll put this simply. You know that in London, money can mean justice, and I have more of it than you do."
"Oh, yes, those limitless Sutherland coffers. I've heard rumors that you make your own gold out in Surrey." She gave him a dazzling smile. "In fact, I was considering marrying you when you returned."
Tori stiffened. The look of disgust on Grant's face was the only reason Tori didn't slap her.
Miranda flashed Tori an amused glance. "Sheathe your claws, my darling. It's obvious you've got this one locked down."
"Enough of this," Grant said, his voice harsh. "I'd thought of trying to work out a settlement, but it's clear you belong in Newgate."
For the first time, her glowing skin paled and her eyes widened. "What do you think would happen to a woman like me in there?"
Tori answered, "I think you'd be corrupted." She snapped her fingers as though she'd just recalled something. "Oh, too late for that."
When she shot Tori a scathing look, Grant said, "I'd make preparations," then turned to escort Tori out.
"Wait!" Miranda grabbed Grant's other arm. "What if I paid back...half of what was owed?"
He gave her an incredulous look. "Too late. And we'll get the full amount from a settlement and still have the satisfaction of knowing you are rotting in a cell."
"What if I paid back everything?" When she saw them still unbending, she added in a sultry voice, "What if I had information?..."
"About what?"
"Where has dear cousin Ian gone off to?" She tapped her cheek. "It's not pretty, and I wager he's praying right now for someone to save him."
Grant grabbed her elbow. "Tell me."
She put on a strong front and managed to glare at his hand.
"Talk!"
"Deal?"
He released her. "How do I know you won't come after us again?"
"I would never have knowingly"--she shot a look at Tori--"come after a Sutherland." She put her hand on his lapel, but under his glacial look, she patted it and drew her hand away. "Miranda McClure knows better than to grab a tiger by the tail."
"I want the information now. And, of course, you'll accompany us to the bank."
She cringed at the word "bank." "Fine. But I want to continue being your broker."
"Are you mad? We'd spend our days making sure you didn't rob us again."
"Won't you do that anyway, wherever you go? I know I can't get away with it, but someone else might try."
"Forget it."
Tori tapped his shoulder. "Grant, let's hear her information first. She does have a twisted sort of point."
She flashed Tori a beatific smile. And Tori had the odd feeling that Miranda was making a mental note to pay her back the favor. Even more odd, Tori expected it.
"He's aboard a ship called the Dominion, based out of Liverpool."
Tori shivered. Even the ship's name sounded ominous.
Grant eyed Miranda suspiciously. "We tracked him to France."
"It last made port at St. Nazaire, then sailed for Foochow," she explained.
Tori shook her head. "Foochow, as in China?"
Grant nodded slowly. Of Miranda, he asked, "How would you know this?"
"I know just about everything underhanded that goes on in this city."
"Who did this to him?" Grant demanded.
"Again, just about everything...I don't know anything more than what I've told you." Miranda tsked at Grant's still rigid stance and grabbed her hat. "Now, as delightful as this visit has been, may I please go pay you a fortune and be done with you? For today," she added, emphasizing her expectation that they'd do business in the future.
When Miranda entered Cunliffe's Bank, the manager all but licked her boots, though he did seem distressed when she instructed him on the amount to be withdrawn. Tori gaped in open-mouthed astonishment when the woman tickled him under the chin and purred, "I'll come and plump it right back up for you, darling."
Tori looked over her shoulder as they left Cunliffe's. "Do you think we should have asked her more?"
Grant shook his head. "I think we got everything from her. If I'd pushed, she would have started fabricating. But when you were finalizing the settlement, I scratched off a note to our runners, detailing the new findings. They're to watch Miranda as well."
Tori nodded, unsure of what to say. It pained her to think of Ian out there alone, possibly hurt.
Grant slowed and faced her. "Victoria, listen to me. We will find Ian." His tone was without doubt.
She remembered Lady Stanhope describing Grant before he went off to search for Tori's family. He'd said to her, "If they're out there, I will return with them." Lady Stanhope had said she couldn't doubt it, though the odds were so against him. Now Tori knew what she meant. One look at Grant, so powerful and strong, his blue eyes clear, and worry lifted from her. They'd find Ian. Period.
"I believe you," she answered as they began walking once more. Yet even with her worry relieved, she found they were in a strange situation, as if they had just completed some grand chore as a team, but now would go their separate ways.
"She's a terror." Grant filled the silence.
"I agree," she said, glad to talk about anything, even McClure. "But as much as she is odd and ambiguous and complicated, I think she has a woman's heart buried underneath those layers of ice. In fact, when I saw her I was worried you might like her."
He stopped walking, looking affronted. "That is not my type."
She turned to him. "I'm sorry, then."
"No harm done."
The conversation was getting awkward. Where did they go from here? What was he thinking after their night together? She knew what she was thinking--that it would be the first of many nights if they could just live through this conversation. She plucked at her skirts; he rocked on his heels.
"You must be eager to spend some of that money."
"Oh, yes, especially after stinting--" She stopped. She didn't want to bring up any part of the last few weeks. That time was gone now, in the past. She whipped out a piece of paper from her skirt pocket and read. "I need to buy Cammy s
ome fabric for new dresses--she's outgrown nearly everything--and Mrs. Huckabee a lighter bonnet." Tori shook her head and exhaled. "She'll simply expire this summer in that quilted winter thing she always wears. And Mr. Huckabee needs a walking stick. Huck needs boots." She turned the page over. "Oh, yes. I have his size here. And maybe a toy of some sort..."
She glanced up, aware that he was looking at her strangely. Her chin notched higher. "I can justify the expense--he works as hard as any of us and deserves a reward."
He grinned. "I think you should bring Huck a legion of toys if that makes you happy. That wasn't what I was thinking about."
She tilted her head and waited.
"So you've been taking note of what people need?"
"There was the possibility I could get a settlement. And someone once advised me on the importance of planning."
His grin widened. "He must have been a remarkably intelligent man." She chuckled, but then his expression became intent. "Victoria, I've been planning myself. My entire family will be at the town house before noon, as will Camellia and the baron if they make it in time."
She frowned at him, at his...nervousness?
He began pacing. "I believe we can have a good life together. I want you to marry me. And rest assured that I will--"
"Yes, let's!"
"--keep asking till you say..." He trailed off. "What did you say?"
"I said yes."
His brows drew together. "But I thought you wouldn't marry without love."
She closed the distance between them and brushed her hands down his long arms. "Oh, you love me."
"Quite sure of yourself?"
She gave him a saucy grin. "Quite sure of you after last night."
He started to turn. "Then I suppose you don't need to hear it...."
She launched herself at him, putting her arms around his neck and pulling herself up to his chest, heedless of the people milling around them. "I can always hear that."
He tenderly brushed a curl from her face. "I do love you. I think I love you more than is wholesome." His tone was low and very solemn.
She knew without a doubt that this was the first time he'd said the words. She felt instinctively that it was the first time he'd been in love at all.
That affected her so much. She could forgive the time it had taken for him to realize his love, since he was cutting a new trail.
When she gazed up at him and sighed, he said, "And you? Don't leave me out here--"
"Of course I love you--I adore you. I think I always have, even when I would've liked to toss you overboard." Then a thought fluttered through her mind. "Can we stay at the Court?"
