Chapter Eighteen
Brighton, England
It had been two days since Mr. Foster had been taken into custody.
Two days since Captain Horner took possession of the criminal with his leg wrapped and bandaged, waiting to be seen by a physician once they arrived in London yesterday.
Two days since Caroline had used the pistol he’d gifted her and essentially captured the shoddy investor.
“Woolgathering, Kourier?”
The sound of Inspector Bright’s voice wrenched him back into the present.
With a self-conscious chuckle, Felix shook his head.
“Perhaps, but in my defense, it has been a very eventful week.” Caroline’s parents had gone back to London yesterday as well.
Her father would make a full recovery without incident, for the wound was clean and hadn’t hit bones or nerves.
And what was more, Beckham’s whole attitude toward him had changed.
He was quite congenial, while his wife was more reserved, but she would come ‘round eventually. “Quite frankly, I’m exhausted from it.” Family dynamics confused him.
“Not a good omen, especially since you’ve finally begun your honeymoon,” Bright said with a wink across the table at his wife, Mary.
They’d come to share dinner with Felix and Caroline before they headed back to London on the morrow.
When he glanced at Caroline, a blush stained her cheeks. “Do shut up, Bright.” But he couldn’t help but laugh at himself. “I didn’t say my exhaustion affected any aspect of my honeymoon.”
Bright lifted his wineglass in salute. “Good on you, mate.”
“Come off it, man.” Not comfortable with being teased, he shook his head.
“Let him have his fun,” Caroline said in a soft voice. “You and I will spend a lovely month here in Brighton, enjoying our honeymoon, not taking anymore cases, and when we come back to London, our minds will be clear and ready to return to deducting.”
Mary nodded. Amusement danced in her blue eyes. “It seems my husband will have some competition in the private investigation arena.”
“Such gammon.” The inspector looked with fondness at her. “Kourier and I aren’t competitors, though it would be interesting to work a case with him one of these days.”
“Indeed.” Felix lifted his wineglass in a return salute. “Until then, we are friends, and I’m grateful for that.”
“As am I.” Again, Bright looked at Mary and nodded. “Mary and I would like to invite you and Caroline to Christmas dinner.”
Caroline beamed. “What a lovely gesture!”
A grunt issued from Felix. “A bit early to be making plans?” Then a tinge of worry went through his chest. “However, we would be overjoyed to accept… if my wife isn’t in her confinement period by then or even have been delivered of our first child,” he said with a wink at his wife.
Shock went through Mary’s expression. “What?” She turned to Caroline, who sat on her left. “Are you…?”
“Yes.” His wife nodded with joy in her eyes. “Due in late December.”
“How wonderful!” Mary leaned over and hugged her. “I’m beyond pleased for you both.”
Bright clapped a hand to Felix’s shoulder. “Congratulations, old man. You’ll make a splendid father, and if you need advice, I’m always available, even if I’m still learning myself.”
For the first time in a long while, happiness bubbled within him. “I shall indeed remember that.” Then he lifted glass. “To us. To friendship. To learning how to change.” He locked gazes with Caroline. “To love and its ability to sustain us.”
“Hear, hear!” Everyone chimed in then took sips from their glasses.
Felix couldn’t help but grin. “Now, I’m told Mrs. Andrews has encouraged the cook to make a rather wonderful cake for our dessert. Make certain you do it justice and pass along your compliments,” he said as he gestured at the footman to bring in the last course.
If the mettle of a man was measured by the quality of his friends, then he was the richest man in England.
Later that night
Felix came into the bedroom they shared after he’d finished a report for the magistrate.
It would go out in the post tomorrow. Another copy of it would go on to Bow Street to help back up Captain Horner’s case against Mr. Foster.
All involved would try to keep it out of the papers, for it wouldn’t look good that a former agent from Whitehall had turned toward the criminal element.
Caroline stood at the open window. The breeze coming off the sea rifled through her loose hair. She was still in the gown she’d worn to dinner, a frock in a raspberry taffeta he adored because in it, she resembled a summer flower. “Have you finished with letter writing, then?”
“I have. And that concludes my involvement in this case. It is finally and completely over. For the next four weeks, my only interest is you.” Awareness went through him at the thought.
“That sounds quite lovely. I’m looking forward to going about Brighton with you.”
“Ah, I thought you might wish to do other, more intimate things.” Slowly, he prowled toward her, stopping in front of her as she turned to face him.
A bit of tinkling laughter escaped her that went straight to his stones. “Oh, I do.”
“Good.” He hooked his hand about her nape, dragged her to him, and then claimed her mouth with all the authority he could muster. She was his wife, and he would do anything for her.
The second Caroline looped her arms about his shoulders and returned his kisses without shame or self-consciousness, he was lost. He wanted all of her, without barrier or excuse, but above that, he wished to treat her with care and respect, so she’d feel admired and desired, and he hoped she would feel protected, with enough reassurance that she would know the foundation they were laying was solid.
Over and over, he drank from her, tangled his tongue with hers as if there was only so much air left in the world and they two needed to share it.
When that didn’t prove enough contact, he walked her backward.
When the wall prevented further movement, he hefted her upward with his hands hooked beneath her thighs, and as he pressed her into the wall, he renewed his efforts to kiss her senseless.
His cane clattered unheeded to the floor.
Everything was right in the world with her at his side.
Of course, Caroline gave as good as she got.
Her fingers in the hair at his nape spurred him onward; the soft sounds of encouragement and pleasure she made in her throat enhanced his desire.
With her ankles locked at the small of his back, they were layered together but there were entirely too many clothes between them.
“Felix…” When she tugged on his hair, tiny pinpricks of pain skittered over his scalp and worked to further enhance the need hardening his shaft. “I want to see you, touch you,” she whispered against his lips. “Taste you. Now that this case has been solved, I want to lose myself in my new husband.”
Dear God, the possibilities…
“Ah, there’s the woman who knows her own mind I married and adore.
” Once more, he lifted her up, and since she kept her legs locked about his waist, he carried her across the room then set her on the edge of the four-poster bed.
Damn but she looked all too delicious sitting there with her black hair spilling about her shoulders and back, her skirts rucked up about her thighs and her legs naturally parted.
“If you wish to rest because of the babe—”
“No.” She curled the fingers of one hand into his cravat and brought him close. “This is just what I need right now. You are what I need… after everything.” She surged upward, claimed his mouth in such an enthusiastic kiss that her teeth grazed his lower lip.
White hot lust careened through his body, turning his blood into rivers of lava.
This woman’s overtures in the face of her concerns and recent fears were the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced, and as his protective instincts welled, he acknowledged to himself that she’d burrowed further beneath his skin since they’d wed.
She is my everything.
Holding her head between his palms, he kissed her as if he had all the time in the world and alternately as if he didn’t.
Then the hold on his control slipped and he thought he might expire on the spot if he didn’t see her body, if he wasn’t given the chance to worship her as she ought to be after this harrowing week.
As he dragged his lips beneath her jaw with the intent to discover all her secrets, Felix tangled his fingers into the black waterfall of her hair.
“Gorgeous.” When she murmured something unintelligible, he kissed a path down her chest, traced the scoop of her bodice with his lips and his fingertips.
Hot skin tantalized, teased, as did her fingers as they worked the buttons of his jacket.
In seconds, he’d encouraged the raspberry-hued garment from her frame.
When presented with her unmentionables, a certain hushed sacredness came over him as if he were gazing at a previously undiscovered work of art.
Even though they’d been married for a week and had done wicked things to each other, he hovered on this moment of awe. “Ah, Caroline.”
“I rather like seeing admiration and desire in your eyes.” The throaty little laugh she uttered, the mischievous twinkle in her eyes, all worked at his undoing as she stood and pushed the jacket from his shoulders.
“It’s surprising how much I’ve wanted to be alone with you since our ceremony.
” Her fingers were at the laces of his waistcoat while he worked the ones on her stays.
“Now we have all the time in the world.”
“Yes.” A tremble of need danced down his spine. “I well know what that feels like.” Then the corset fell away, and it was one less barrier to seeing her naked glory.