13. Taste #2
Everett stood slightly apart from the crowd; his eyes drawn inexorably to Emma.
She was a vision of feminine beauty in pale pink, her golden hair adorned with glittering jewels that caught the light with every movement.
The silk gown accentuated her figure in a way her usual practical attire never did, and Everett found himself transfixed.
Despite the ache in his leg and the weight of her ire, Everett couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his chest at the sight of her. She carried herself with poise and grace, yet the tension in her posture spoke of her discomfort as she conducted the social niceties of the receiving line.
His appreciation, however, was marred by the unsettling attention Michael Kincaid was paying to Emma. The man’s smile was too familiar, the brief touches on the small of her back too intimate. Everett felt a surge of possessiveness, coupled with a twinge of jealousy he knew he had no right to feel.
While Emma was engaged in an animated conversation with Mr Martin Crane, a prominent member of parliament, Everett found a secluded alcove, gratefully sinking onto a velvet-upholstered settee.
He stretched out his aching leg, wincing slightly as he massaged his thigh.
The din of the party faded to a distant hum in this hidden corner.
His moment of respite was short-lived. A flash of pink announced Emma’s arrival, her eyes gleaming with barely contained fury as she swept into the alcove.
“Dr Moreland,” she spat, her voice low and dangerous. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
Everett didn’t wish to do anything except admire her in that moment. Her cheeks were flushed with anger, eyes bright with determination. She was magnificent in her rage.
He offered her a roguish grin. “Miss Brown, how kind of you to seek me out. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten our little arrangement.”
“Spare me your charm,” she hissed. “What did you do with my research?”
Everett leaned back, affecting a casual air. “Oh, that? I’m afraid it met an untimely end in my fireplace. Terribly careless of me.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. No physician worth his salt would destroy valuable data, no matter how inconvenient it might be.”
“My, my,” Everett chuckled, “you do think highly of my professional integrity. I’m flattered.”
“Stop deflecting,” Emma snapped. “Where is it?”
“It’s in the possession of the Royal College of Physicians, where it belongs. You owe it to the college to share your analysis.”
“It’s my work!” she hissed.
“Work from the data you stole from the college. Don’t think I’m ignorant of your little arrangement with the statistician. It seems you have arrangements with every man you meet.” He disliked the bitterness in his voice.
She surprised him by stepping between his splayed legs and stooped to get closer. Everett’s eyes instantly dropped to her luscious mouth, then to her decolletage. Her fierce voice brought his gaze back to her eyes.
“You had no right to take it. That research could save lives!”
“Or end them, including yours,” Everett countered, his tone equally intense.
They were inches apart now, the air between them crackling with tension. Everett found his gaze drawn to her lips, his muscles tensing with the need to pull her onto his lap.
Emma’s eyes blazed. “What do you know?” she demanded in a fierce whisper. “And what is Royal College planning to do with my research?”
Everett’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Why, Miss Brown, if you’re so eager for information, you need only sit on my lap, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re impos—” She paused mid-word, a calculating look crossing her face. Before Everett could react, she dropped unceremoniously onto his injured leg.
“Blazes!” Everett yelped, his face contorting in pain.
Emma shifted, deliberately applying pressure to his thigh. “Now, Dr Moreland, shall we try this again? What do you know?”
Everett gritted his teeth through admiration for her audacity, the stirring of his member from her delicious backside, and the throbbing pain. “You fight dirty.”
“I fight to win,” she countered, increasing the pressure slightly. “Start talking.”
He exhaled sharply. “Very well. The truth is, I don’t know much more than you, Emma. I’m investigating, just as you are. There’s something rotten about this whole business, but I can’t piece it all together yet.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “Do you expect me to believe you stole my research while knowing nothing? If you won’t tell me about your schemes, are you aware of any sanitation projects completed in the East End before the cholera outbreak?”
Everett’s hand slid to her buttocks and began to caress the luscious curves. Emma sucked in a sharp breath but seemed paralysed by indecision. He ignored her discomfiture and leaned forward to kiss the slopes of her breasts. A soft exhale escaped her lips.
“There was a new water system installed, part of a modernisation effort,” he said as he showered her with tender kisses over her chest, “but I haven’t confirmed the exact area or the date.”
He shifted her weight onto his erection, covering her moan with his own as pleasure shot through his nerves. “Sweetheart,” he whispered as he kissed tenderly behind her ear then trailed down her throat, “I’m trying to protect you.”
Emma gasped as he gripped her hips and ground her ass over his cock. “I don’t trust you,” she moaned. “You’re hiding… something. After what I’ve done for you… what we shared…”
“Emma,” Everett said, loosening his hold on her and meeting her eyes solemnly.
“There are people wanting to use that research to discredit you as a physician. They’ll try to prove you’re insane.
With jealousy over your hospital outperforming others, and your unconventional methods, plus the illegally obtained medical data can all lead to you being deemed insane or—”
He was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. Emma quickly stood, smoothing her skirts as Everett stifled a groan of disappointment.
“This isn’t over,” she whispered fiercely. Everett smirked as she glanced down at his raging erection. Her rosy complexion deepened to bright pink. “A-And I shan’t fall for your distraction technique again,” she stammered.
As she melted back into the crowd, Everett watched her go, equal parts impressed by her and fearful for her. He had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time she surprised him this evening.
Emma feigned interest in the music, while every nerve ending betrayed her, tracking Everett’s presence at the back of the room. Even without looking, she was painfully aware of his tall form among the gentlemen gathered there, how his quiet laugh carried across the space.
“Dr Moreland cuts quite the figure, doesn’t he?” Lady Winona whispered, though her excited whisper carried far enough for Emma’s ears. “I saw him at the gymnasium with my brother last month. Such remarkable strength!”
Helen, seated beside Emma, rolled her eyes dramatically. “How fortunate he has you to appreciate his muscles rather than his intelligence.”
Chuckling, Emma nudged her friend, as she whispered, “Hypocrite.”
“Who? Me?” Helen gasped, placing a hand on her bosom. “I admit nothing stirs my blood more than the sweaty scent of a gentleman,” she said and drew a chuckle from Lady Amy who was sitting between Emma and Lady Winona.
Lady Amy didn’t quite hide her interest. “Do tell us more, Lady Winona.”
“Oh, you should have seen him on the parallel bars! My brother says he trains religiously. Though I suppose one must, to maintain such…” Lady Winona’s cheeks pinked, “form.”
Emma’s hands tightened in her lap with possessiveness, unwanted images of Everett’s “form” flooding her mind. And the feel of his steely shaft in her hand…
Helen caught her expression and squeezed her hand briefly, startling her from her reverie.
“I’m surprised you ladies are not drooling over Lord Kincaid instead,” Helen said. “He is even taller than Dr Moreland and just as handsome. Not to mention his wealth and title that would suit your families admirably.”
As if on cue, both ladies’ heads swung toward the blond lord who was laughing at something Lord Salisbury had said.
“He is an impressive gentleman,” Lady Amy said, “but he reminds me too much of my brother. I fear people might think Lord Kincaid and I are siblings.”
“Oh, but you look nothing alike!” Lady Winona exclaimed.
Helen snorted beside Emma. “I agree, Lady Winona. No one could mistake Lord Kincaid's rather prominent ears for Lady Amy's. Why, they’re practically two different species.”
Emma shushed Helen despite feeling grateful for the distraction, but her smile soon faltered upon noticing something more concerning.
Lord Salisbury, Mr Snowden, and the elder Dr Moreland were slipping quietly from the room, their expressions grave.
A moment later, Everett detached himself from his group and followed with a casual grace that didn’t quite mask his purposeful stride.
Emma leaned close to Helen’s ear. “I need to follow them. Cover for me?”
Helen’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Of course, darling. Shall I create a diversion? I could always faint dramatically.”
“Just tell them I needed air,” Emma whispered, already rising. She didn’t wait to hear Helen’s response, though she caught her friend’s murmured “Do be careful” as she slipped away.