by Rebecca King
“When will that be?”
“I don’t know, Rose. It could be a few days; it could be a week or more. We won’t move until we have flushed this traitor out and identified him. Once we have, and have put Chadwick and his men behind bars where they belong, then and only then will we move. There can be no timetable to any of this because other people are involved who we have no control over. I am sorry,” Barnaby murmured soothingly when Rose began to look worried.
“At least we can eat now, and keep warm,” she replied with half-hearted enthusiasm that didn’t reach her eyes.
Barnaby nodded and smiled at her. “And there is a huge bed in there to sleep in.”
As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he should never have made reference to it. Now they were both very aware of the connotations of the huge double bed so very close to where they sat, and the temptations which lay therein. It would change everything between them if they succumbed to the urge to share it. Because of that, neither made any attempt to take a peek inside the bedroom. Instead, they sat side by side, gazing into the fire while they sipped the fine brandy.
It was an unfamiliar flavour to Rose, who had never imbibed anything stronger than a Ratafia in her life. Her first sip burned all the way down her throat and lay warmly in her stomach, but not in a soothing way. Wrinkling her nose up she waited for the sensation to ease before she risked another tiny sip. She didn’t like it, but didn’t want to break the companionable ease with which they sat together by saying anything.
For a few moments now they were both able to take a deep breath, and allow the latest round of adventures to fade into the background so they could face whatever lay in the future.
When a discrete knock sounded on the door, Barnaby went to answer it. Rose turned around in time to watch several maids enter the room with numerous buckets of water and two trays heavily laden with food.
“I have arranged for the maids to bring up some water in case you would like a bath,” he explained, watching the last of the maids disappear into the bedroom. The sound of splashing water broke the silence for a few minutes before the maid quietly left the room. “If you need their help tug on the bell pull.”
Rose turned her attention to the trays. Everything she liked lay waiting to be tasted. Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she eagerly piled two plates high with huge helpings of everything on offer before she handed a plate to Barnaby and took a seat. Together, she and Barnaby ate their meal in companionable silence.
“When will you have to go?” Rose asked when she had finished. “Not that I want to get rid of you, you understand?”
“But you want me to go so you can take a bath,” he murmured ruefully.
“But I want to take a bath,” Rose replied with a smile. “However, if you want one before you go then feel free.”
“If I do that I won’t want to go out there in the dark to skulk around in the bushes. I will be tempted to remain here,” he teased. “So I had better not, but help yourself while I am gone. I don’t know how long I will be, so don’t bother to wait up.”
Rose suddenly dreaded the moment when he had to leave her on her own.
“Rose.”
There was something in his voice that made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She hadn’t realised how close he was sitting until she turned to look up at him. Their eyes met. Before she could draw breath, his head lowered and his lips met hers.
Barnaby groaned when she immediately leaned into his embrace. He drew her into his arms as his lips caressed hers. In the safe confines of their room the world faded into insignificance. Careful not to frighten her, he slowly deepened the kiss, giving her the time to adjust to his nearness. Slowly, he lowered her backward until she lay upon the chaise. When she didn’t object, he slid over her and allowed his hands to wander.
Rose had never been this close to another person in her entire life. She could feel every inch of him pressing intimately against her, including the hard knee he pushed between hers. Beneath the gentle pressure of his guiding hands she moved to accommodate him and revelled in how close they became. Her cheeks grew fiery at this new, intensely personal position, but she didn’t have a moment’s doubt that there was anything wrong in what they were doing. This felt wonderfully right, and she wanted more.
Curiosity blossomed and began to build with desperate ferocity. Clawing at his shirt, she tugged it to one side, eager to feel the smooth skin of his back as he lay above her while copying the movements of his mouth.
Barnaby groaned at the slow, smooth glide of her hands against his flesh. His body roared to life beneath that tender touch and he quickly found himself pushed to the boundaries of his endurance. So much so that when Rose’s hand skimmed his thigh, he knew that if he was going to stop he had to do it now.
“Rose,” he growled.
“Don’t stop,” Rose pleaded when she realised he had gone still above her.
“You don’t know what you are asking,” he protested. “This will change everything between us.”
“I don’t care,” she assured him. “I don’t care.”
“But you will afterward,” he warned. “There will be no going back. Are you ready for that, Rose? Are you ready for another situation beyond your control because I will accept nothing less than your complete compliance in what has to come after?”
“What’s that?” she whispered. For the first time she started to doubt this was right after all.
“You will have to marry me, whether you like it or not. As far as this hotel is concerned, we are registered here as Mr and Mrs Allen. They won’t think twice about us sharing a bed together. However, the men I work with are an entirely different matter. My colleagues have certain expectations of me as a man. It is wrong of me to seduce someone I am supposed to protect. It is a, well, a kind of code of ours. A code of conduct.”
“But that is your work. This is between us,” she protested.
“I am my work, Rose. We go together. If we go any further with this right now, the decision of whether your future lies with me will no longer be yours. There will be an expectation for you to marry me. However, I warn you now that I cannot give up my work. I will not surrender myself to matrimony. The Star Elite is a part of me. If we marry you will have to accept that my time will not be completely focused on you. I will be gone for long periods of time. You will often not even know where I am or when I will be back and I can offer you no promises. My work is dangerous, as you know. There is always the possibility that I can’t come back to you. If you are happy with that arrangement then we will take this further. If not, you need to tell me to stop right now, Rose, because we cannot ever go back to the way things were if we take this final step.”
Rose stared at him and felt every dream she had ever had for as long as she could remember shatter. This was not in any way the kind of marriage proposal she had expected. In fact, it was the least romantic proposal she had ever heard. The harshness in his voice when he had spoken about marriage sounded more like a dire warning than an affirmation of a promising life together. She shivered as she studied the watchfulness in his eyes. It felt as though he had just poured a bucket of cold water over her. While she was attracted to him, maybe even loved him, she wasn’t sure she could ignore who she was for a chance to be with him.
Barnaby read the doubt on her face and knew he was right to issue the warning. Inwardly, he knew that no woman was going to accept a life with him on those terms, especially Rose. It was harsh to expect it of her, but he couldn’t ignore the surge of bitterness that stormed through him as he pushed away from her and stood up.
“Go and take a bath or the water will go cold. I need to meet with the others. There is work to do.” He didn’t wait for her to reply and slammed out of the room without a backward look.
Rose stared at the closed door and felt a hot tear slide slowly down her chilled cheek. Bereft, she slowly pushed herself upright. What had felt warm and wonderful just a few moments earlier now felt wr
ong. So very terribly wrong that she wasn’t sure what to do about it. As delightful as Barnaby’s love-making was, it could not happen again. She couldn’t accept marriage to him on the terms he offered. It was evident that he would consider marriage to her a burden – something that took him away from the beloved work he did. She couldn’t bear to spend her life being any man’s obligation, especially Barnaby’s.
“You don’t need any more warning than that. He isn’t the man for you,” she whispered aloud.
Quickly hurrying into the bedroom, she closed the shutters and curtains and divested herself of her clothing. Seconds later, she slid into the hot, steaming water with a deep sigh. Without anything to tie her hair out of her face she draped it over the edge of the bath and sank low in the water. It was sublime to bathe in the soothing water and allow it to ease her aches and pains. It was a pity it could do nothing about the ache around her heart.
“Your life needs to be rebuilt somewhere else,” she whispered to herself. “Somewhere far away from Barnaby.” The thought saddened her. So much so that tears began to fall in earnest, and this time she made no attempt to stop them.
Half an hour later, she was so lost in her misery that at first she didn’t realise the water had gone cold. It was only when she moved and felt goose bumps ripple across her skin that she stood up.
“There is no towel.” She hadn’t stopped to think about things like towels before she had submerged herself in the blissful water. Now, she was cold, wet, and had no way of drying herself. “Fool,” she muttered as she stepped out of the bath.
The sudden slam of a door nearby made her jump.
“I forgot to lock the door,” she whispered in horror. Cursing her own foolishness she stood still and listened. Her gaze flew to the doorway when she saw the flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye, but it was too late to find something to cover herself with now. Barnaby was already in the doorway.
Barnaby slammed to a stop, his gaze locked on the most stunning sight he had ever witnessed in his life. Like a veritable goddess, Rose stood bathed in firelight, each dip and hollow shimmering seductively beneath the moisture that clung lovingly to every inch of bared flesh. He couldn’t move. The sight of her was simply arresting.
“Good Lord,” he whispered aloud.
Rose wished the floor beneath her feet would open up and swallow her. “I am sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t think you would be back.”
Trying to salvage some semblance of pride, she looked for something – anything – to cover herself with. Her dress lay in abandon at his feet but there was no way she was going to go near him to retrieve it.
“Rose,” Barnaby murmured huskily.
She jumped when she realised he had crossed the room and now stood directly behind her – she hadn’t heard him move.
“Thank you,” she murmured, snatching at a towel he held in one hand.
Rather than release it, Barnaby held on and stepped closer. The air between them crackled. Rose shivered. Fighting temptation, Barnaby leaned forward until his cheek rested against hers.
“I couldn’t just leave,” he murmured, placing a tender kiss on her shoulder. “I couldn’t leave with such discord between us.”
“I don’t want to force you into marriage. This is not going to end at the altar,” she assured him. “It can’t. There are so many things I want to do; to experience. I won’t be your burden.”
“I know,” Barnaby murmured. “I don’t want you to consider marriage to me as some sort of sacrifice.” The reluctance in her voice surprised him. It was the last thing he expected to hear, and he was at a loss to know how to deal with it.
Rose wanted to assure him that it wouldn’t be, but something prevented her from doing so. She was still so very confused about what she wanted, but didn’t want to confide in him until she had matters settled in her own mind. With him standing so close, though, it was darned difficult to think about anything other than the raw need that stirred within.
“I thought you were going to see your colleagues,” she murmured, still trying to tug the towel out of his hand.
Barnaby suddenly whipped it over their heads and threw it into the far corner of the room.
Annoyed, Rose whirled to face him. “What did you do that for?” she protested and only then realised what she had done.
Rather than allow her to cover her modesty, Barnaby captured her hands and held them away from her body while his gaze slid lovingly over her. Rose struggled to stand still beneath that sensual gaze. What he was doing was scandalous. She should demand he leave; that he behave like a gentleman should and turn his back, but she didn’t. Instead, she tipped her chin up in proudly and waited.
He didn’t speak. Instead, he stepped forward and swept her off her feet.
“Too late,” he growled.
“For what,” she whispered as he lowered her onto the bed.
“To change your mind.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Barnaby awoke sometime in the middle of the night. He had no idea what had woken him and lay still while he listened for the source of the disturbance. The sound of silence had never seemed so loud before. It was deafening, and only interspersed with the soft sound of Rose’s quiet breathing beside him.
He glanced down at her. The last few hours had been exhausting but had left neither of them with any misapprehension as to where their relationship had to go next. In spite of Rose’s denials, he knew there could never be any other outcome, not least because he had taken no steps to prevent a child.
“A child,” he whispered thoughtfully.
The possibility of becoming a father wasn’t as troubling as he had thought it would be. In fact, the more he considered it the more he actually wanted it to come to fruition. If he lowered his guard enough to be truly honest with himself, he was almost prideful of the possibility that Rose might be pregnant with his child. With Rose and a child waiting for him at home he had purpose in his life; a reason to go out and cleanse the streets of criminals, and a reason to go home and enjoy life.
Is this how the others felt when they met the women they married? Barnaby mused as he stared at the ceiling. He had never understood why they had been almost eager to marry before, but then had never met anyone who made him feel how Rose did. It was wonderful. It was a shock. It was slightly awe-inspiring if terrifying at the same time and, to his disbelief, there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. There wasn’t anything he wanted to do about it.
Is this what love feels like?
He couldn’t be sure. He had never felt it in his life before. There was nothing else in his life against which to measure this deeply intense feeling of being connected to someone. To be with Rose was an intrinsic need as elemental as the desire to make love to her had been, and still was. He suspected that with Rose they could be together for the next fifty years and the passion would be just as wild as it was now.
Well, if you want fifty years with her you need to get rid of Chadwick and Sayers. Then you can decide what you are going to do to persuade her that marriage is a good thing.
Tucking his hand beneath his head, he looked down at her. She fitted against his side as though she had been made especially for him. Her presence in his bed made him reluctant to leave it. It was only when a rapid series of taps sounded on the window beside him that he snapped out of his thoughts. Easing slowly out of bed, he padded to the window and eased the shutter open enough to peer into the narrow alley beneath.
“What?” he whispered when he saw Reg grinning up at him.
“Trying to get hold of you is like trying to raise the dead. Get down here, we have work to do,” Reg whispered loudly.
Barnaby rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Easing the window down, he assured himself that Rose was still asleep before he quickly dressed. He paused for a minute before leaving to tuck the covers over her bare shoulders lovingly before he tiptoed quietly out of the suite.
Once he had gone, Rose opened her eyes and s
tared at the empty doorway. She knew he had work to do but couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed that he had gone. However, that said, she didn’t think she could face him because she didn’t know what to say. What they had shared, what she had allowed him to do to her and with her, had been staggering; wonderful, sensual, yet nothing like she had expected. It was a little embarrassing to have to face him again but she knew that she must. She had to use the time while he was gone to decide what she was going to say to him when that time came. For now, she had to make her mind up what she wanted from life. Barnaby muddled her thoughts so much whenever he was around that she forgot about everything except the way he made her feel.
Only a few short hours ago he had transported her into another world of sensual bliss where nothing else existed but him and her. He had taught her things about herself that had been nothing short of a revelation, and while she had revelled in every moment of their time together she knew it had indeed changed everything. What that meant now though was anyone’s guess. She didn’t know what she wanted out of life, but was adamant that Barnaby wasn’t going to sacrifice himself to the bonds of matrimony unless he wanted to, and had hopefully professed some sort of feelings for her beforehand. The kind of cold-hearted, and almost business like arrangement he had talked about earlier was something that left her cold and eager to avoid even talking about marriage.
How do I go about finding out if he cares? I can hardly ask him outright, can I?
Rose rolled over in bed and felt her lids droop beneath the weight of exhaustion the worries this new turn of events brought her. She found no answers to her thoughts, not least because she didn’t have the energy.
Barnaby strode through the streets after Reg with a dark scowl on his face.
“What do you know?” Reg murmured.
“I know you are a fool, Stephenson,” a dark voice called jovially out of the darkness.
