Chapter 17
Thomas knocked on Clio’s door, the leather straps coiled loosely in his left hand. His heart raced. It took all his willpower to remain calm as she opened the door and let him into her room. She was wearing another white nightgown. This time, her robe was green velvet tied tightly at her waist.
‘Come in.’ Clio’s cheeks grew pink, and it was breathtaking to see such a strong, confident woman turn shy.
Thomas still wore his breeches from dinner, though he left his coat, cravat, and vest in his room and wore only a linen shirt.
Clio watched him enter with eyes as luminous as a jungle cat.
He didn’t miss how they froze on the V of skin exposed by his unbuttoned shirt.
She licked her lips, and he wondered if she wanted to taste him as badly as he wished to savour her.
Looking around the room, a certain raven was noticeably absent.
‘Where is Sir Robin?’
Clio’s blush deepened. ‘I put his perch behind the screen.’ She gestured to a darkened corner. ‘The last thing we need is for him to start repeating what is said between us. He could accidentally expose the entire investigation.’
Thomas highly doubted it was the investigation she was worried about exposing. But he wasn’t going to argue. The evening would progress much more pleasantly without Sir Robin’s piercing, ‘Bastard!’
‘Please, sit. We should discuss the case before—’ Clio seemed to have walked herself up to a verbal cliff.
‘Before I tie you to that bed over there?’ The gothic headboard was helpfully adorned with carved filigrees and swirls, providing ample choices to anchor someone.
Clio swallowed. ‘You really are committed to that second rule.’
‘In this kind of situation, honesty is best. It leaves no room for misunderstanding.’
‘Ah.’ She narrowed her gaze. ‘Yet you still hide the truth from me, don’t you, Thomas?’
He clenched the straps, letting the bite of leather centre him.
Because it would be so easy to tell her everything.
His deepest shame. And then she would leave.
And he would never have another chance to taste her.
To feel her supple skin beneath his hands.
To hear his name ripping from her throat.
And he wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet.
Not ever.
But that was impossible.
‘Do you still wish me to take command of our bed sport, Clio?’
She pressed her lips together, inhaled a deep breath, and nodded.
‘Then stop asking me questions, or I won’t tie you to that bed tonight. I won’t strip you bare. Suck those pretty nipples until you burn. I certainly won’t spread your beautiful legs and finally taste what I’ve been craving. Do you understand?’
Her chest rose and fell in a ragged rhythm. Every word he spoke increased the flush covering her neck and cheeks. Her skin began to glow, her power pulsing from her sternum. His body hardened in response.
‘Yes.’ She threw the word at him like a dagger. He knew she wanted to uncover his secrets. But it seemed she wanted the pleasure he could bring even more.
‘Thank the bloody saints for that.’
She thrust out her chin, obviously unwilling to give him the upper hand just yet. Not when he had refused her something she wanted. ‘Don’t thank them just yet. Before we do all that,’ she flapped her hand at the bed, ‘we must discuss the case.’
Keeping his need chained, he sucked air through clenched teeth. ‘Yes. The blasted case. How could I forget?’ With a Herculean effort, he walked to one of the wingback chairs next to the hearth and carefully sat, mindful of the raging erection pressing painfully against his falls.
Clio took the opposite chair and pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees.
‘I’ve thought over what Anna told us, and I have reached several conclusions.’
She spent the next few minutes detailing her thoughts. With each new explanation, Thomas found himself increasingly more impressed with her quick mind.
‘So, you believe Anna is seeing both of her parents because they are both dead?’
Clio nodded, her black hair spilling over her shoulder.
‘I think I should try to reach out to them, together. If I can get into the nursery when Anna isn’t there, I might be able to convince them to speak to me.
They both want to protect their daughter.
Maybe I can use that as leverage to get them to trust me. ’
Thomas shook his head. ‘The last time you spoke to the viscount, he strangled you. I saw the bruises, Clio, no matter what kind of magic you used to heal them.’
Clio shook her head. ‘He didn’t mean to do that. He wasn’t seeing me. He was seeing the murderer.’
‘I don’t care what he was seeing. I won’t have you putting yourself in danger. Not with the current Viscount Beachley, and certainly not with the deceased one. I can’t protect you against a spirit.’
She narrowed her gaze. ‘You don’t need to protect me. I can protect myself.’
The truth of her statement rubbed salt into old wounds. Because it meant he wasn’t necessary.
Thomas tried a different tactic. ‘I don’t doubt your skills in self-preservation.
But what if you scare them away? You said that could happen, and then what?
We must speak with Mrs Coggins again. She knows why Berty was there.
Your suspicions of her are entirely supported by Anna’s testimony.
’ No one was immune to flattery. He hoped.
‘And unlike your ghostly friends, if she attacks you, I can help beat her back.’
‘Trust me, if she so much as tried, I would have her hair smouldering to cinders.’
He shook his head. ‘Wicked witch. Attacking a woman’s hair.’
‘I should have thought of that with the duchess.’
Thomas held back a laugh and tried to remember they were arguing, and he was quite possibly losing. ‘It hardly seems sporting.’
‘This isn’t a sport. It’s murder. And we don’t need to go back to the horrid housekeeper. I still think I could get Berty to talk.’
‘Not unless I’m with you.’ The very idea of Berty putting his sweaty hands on her body was enough to provoke a jealousy he hadn’t felt since Lissa.
‘You don’t trust me to contain all my lusty desire with a gentleman as debonair as Berty?’
He was being ridiculous. Berty was disgusting. And even if he had been a dashing duke ripe for marriage, Clio was nothing like Lissa. She would never betray his trust.
But would she accept me if she knew everything?
He shut down such dangerous thoughts. The very idea was madness. And what kind of selfish bastard would he be if he let her sacrifice her future to be with him?
She squared her shoulders, always ready to meet him in a challenge. ‘Does it matter? You’ll have to trust me with this.’
‘Trust. It’s a funny thing. So difficult to give, and so easy to break.’
Tension pulled tight between them.
‘I’m trusting you tonight. I wish you would trust me with whatever it is haunting you. I’m good with ghosts, you know.’
Thomas shook his head. ‘That sounds dangerously close to a question you promised not ask. I think we are done discussing the investigation. It’s time to move on to the second reason we are here.’
She lifted her chin, always so defiant. ‘What is that?’
‘Pleasure.’
Her throat hollowed as she sucked in a breath. ‘Perhaps I would gain pleasure from hearing about your past.’
Thomas’ eyes hardened into emerald shards.
‘You would not.’ He pushed down the panic and shame conjured by her words and focused on what he could control.
Her desire. And his own. ‘But you will gain a great deal of satisfaction from what I have planned, Clio. I promise to fan your witchfire into a conflagration that will consume us both if you follow my instructions.’
She narrowed her gaze. He knew everything in her wanted to challenge him. But he also knew she wanted to let go. The lights flared as sparks gathered in her palms. The glow covering her skin was an eloquent expression of her desire. ‘You really are an impossible man, Thomas Grey.’
‘It lends me a certain charm, don’t you think?’ He lifted his brow. ‘Stand up and take off your robe, Clio.’
It was a test. If she refused, then she was not ready.
Whether she knew it or not. And he would need to rethink his plan.
Because the goal was still the same. Bringing her pleasure so bright, so hot, their time together would stay with her for all her days.
He would be seared into her memory. A brand she could never erase.
After their first night together, he knew he would spend the rest of his life craving her.
Maybe she had bewitched him. Perhaps he was under her spell, but one good charm deserved another, and he was determined to weave his own enchantment over Clio.
He might not have her power. He might not have any magic.
He might not hold value to Lissa, the beau monde, or himself.
But he would do something worthy for Clio.
He would bring her beauty or blaze like a dying star in the attempt.
She pushed to her feet, straightened her shoulders, and lifted a shaky hand to the tie around her robe. When she paused, he held his breath. Waiting. Yearning. Needing her more than the next beat of his heart.
She slipped the tie loose, her heavy robe falling open to reveal a nightgown of nearly sheer cotton. With a slow shrug, the velvet slipped to the carpet.
Thomas couldn’t stop his gaze slipping down her body. There was something undeniably erotic about seeing the hint of her nipples, the shadow of her mons, but still not knowing her exact taste. ‘Good girl.’
‘I hardly think a good girl would stand in her unmentionables in front of a gentleman, but isn’t that the point?’ Her lips curled in a devilish smile, and Thomas felt his cock grow heavy and hard. He was supposed to be in control, but she summoned his arousal as easily as she conjured her flame.