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Authors: Robyn DeHart

BOOK: Deliciously Wicked
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“No, all is fine.” More than fine if she was honest. Gareth's hand slid up the back of her drawers and now sat behind her knee. Munden nodded. “I found that fellow from Yorkshire one day when I was in a pub. He was at the next table talking about his horses. About how they came from good stock and their sire had won several races.” Munden rubbed his hand against his beefy neck.

She could feel the warmth of Gareth's touch through her stockings. She wanted Munden to leave, but she certainly couldn't ask him to do so. It was her idea to start this conversation.

Munden gave her a wide grin. “We'll see how mine does in his first race.”

The desire was flowing rapidly through her blood
and she had to fight the urge to clench the desk and cry out. Gareth's hands had moved so far up now, his hands were wrapped around the insides of her thighs.

“I suppose I should be going,” Munden said.

Thank goodness.

“Have a good evening, miss.”

“You as well, Mr. Munden,” she said, her voice sounding far too shaky.

He turned and left the office.

She knew she should step away from Gareth, but she was afraid to move. Afraid she'd fall. Afraid he'd stop. Afraid he wouldn't.

He said nothing, so she remained quiet as well. And soon she felt his other hand slide up the back of her other leg, until his hands rested beneath her bottom. He kneaded her flesh a bit before curving his hands around her hips until they touched the front of her legs. Very near the center of her being.

He smoothed his right hand across the juncture of her thigh and hip, and cupped her gently.

“Sit down, Meg,” he said, his voice rich and deep.

She opened her eyes, not quite recognizing that she'd even shut them, and felt for the chair behind her. She complied and sat, and in doing so, she could finally see his face. His glorious hazel eyes had darkened to a sultry brown and the shadow of a beard darkened his cheeks. In that moment, she knew she would do anything he asked of her. She might not be strong enough to survive this, but she also wasn't strong enough to walk away.

He knelt before her, hands still up her dress.

“Should we lock the door?” she asked.

“No, I think he's gone.”

She nodded.

He moved his finger to the slit in her drawers, all the while never taking his eyes off hers. He barely touched her flesh, and she jumped. His hands were warm and delivered such delicious sensations that she wasn't quite certain what she should do. He'd brought her to release once before. In the carriage, where he'd held her against his hardness and stroked her with almost agonizing pleasure.

Tonight would he take his own pleasure? They were completely alone in the factory. All the workers had long since left, and she'd heard the front door close as Munden took his leave. Unlike the evenings she'd worked here on the boxes, she had not brought Ellen with her.

His finger found the outer edge of her opening and gently teased the area.

“Already wet for me,” he groaned. “You are the most tempting woman I've ever encountered.”

“Honestly?”

“Oh yes. Such naughty things I want to do to you,” he said.

Her heart raced in her chest, pounding an uneven rhythm. “Such as,” she breathed.

“This,” he said, as he slid his finger into her.

She clutched his shoulders and cried out.

He moved his finger in and out until she was rocking against him in the chair.
Oh my
.

“I see,” she managed to say.

“And this.” He removed his finger and slid it to the nub hidden beneath her folds. He made a slow circle with it and she cried out.

“But most of all, right now, I want to do this.” He
picked her up and scooted her to the edge of the chair. With one swift movement, he hiked her skirt up and found her center with his mouth.

Oh sweet heaven, she never knew there were such things. Sensations sparked through her body like gunfire as his tongue made its great exploration.

It was hard to determine precisely where his tongue was, the pleasure was too intense and spreading through her so quickly. She bucked against him, and even went so far as to raise one of her legs to brace on his shoulder.

The pleasure grew and grew until she was unable to contain her moans, and soon the office echoed with her pants and cries. As his tongue laved across that little nub, his finger slid back inside her and she felt a jolt shiver through her abdomen.

The feelings were intensifying, and she knew her release was coming. Could feel it rising and building until she was certain she would explode into tiny pieces at any moment.

It crashed over her quickly. Waves and waves of pleasure rocketed through her and she clutched his hair. He kissed her tenderly on the thigh, then lowered her skirts.

She was unsure how to look at him then. What she should say, how she should proceed.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice quiet and intense. Almost as if he blamed her for such a thing.

“Gareth, I—”

“Don't say anything. I will probably regret this later, but I couldn't resist you. I find that to be true much of the time.” His eyes narrowed. “What sort of spell have you woven around me, witch?”

It wasn't a legitimate question, and she had no answer to bestow on him. She had certainly not tried to bewitch him. She did not know how to do such a thing. Although she had certainly wondered the same about her reaction to him. At times it seemed as if it was he who had created the spell. That seemed unlikely, though.

One thing she knew for certain, no matter how she feared the repercussions, she would never regret this. Never regret allowing him to touch her. To love her body.

M
eg sat at her dressing table while Charlotte put a jeweled clip in her hair. The four of them had met at Meg's house to ready for the concert. Although with the exception of the jewels she was loaning Charlotte, the other three girls were ready when they arrived.

Meg wore a rich purple dress with a plunging neckline and black lace trim.

“This matches your dress perfectly. You look lovely,” Charlotte said.

“As do you,” Meg agreed.

“We all look lovely,” Amelia said cheerfully.

“Willow, do take your spectacles off,” Charlotte said. “You look so much prettier without them, and you only need them for reading.”

Willow bristled. “I feel quite fine with these on. Thank you.” She straightened them on her nose.

“I was only trying to help,” Charlotte said. “There is no need to get short with me.”

Willow nodded in acknowledgment.

They all had on their finest gowns, and Meg and Amelia had supplied jewels for each of them to wear. Tonight they were attending a vocal concert in an attempt to lure the Jack of Hearts. It took a half-hour carriage ride to arrive at Charing Cross Road, and they chatted the entire trip.

It had been several months since the four of them had attended something together. Poor Charlotte had taken it upon herself to do all the work on the case, as far as attempting to catch the Jack of Hearts in the act, while the rest of them tended to their own business. They all knew she'd done so not out of a great sense of bravery, but rather because of a heightened fascination with their nemesis.

While not nearly as excited or nervous as she had been the night she'd ventured into Mr. Munden's residence, Meg could feel the hum of adventure in the air. They made their way to their seats, and soon the lights dimmed.

Meg could hear the music and could see the soloist, but her mind was drawn away. Neither the excellence of the performance nor the purpose of tonight's outing could keep her mind from wandering to Gareth. Tall, seductive Gareth with his sensual eyes and sinful mouth. Keeping her mind off him was an exercise in futility.

The first part of the concert had concluded and they stood in the lobby for the intermission. The music hall was abuzz with activity and Meg took in her surroundings. Charlotte hailed a footman who brought over a tray of champagne.

“To us,” she said, holding up her glass, “the Ladies' Amateur Sleuth Society. May we always find adventure and friendship wherever we go.”

They toasted, and Meg took a sip of the refreshing liquid. The bubbles tickled her lips as she held the glass to her mouth. Had Gareth ever been to such a performance? So many things about him remained a mystery. And the closer she came to solving this case, the more she realized that eventually she would complete the task and she would no longer have reason to call upon him. All those little things she wanted to know, those curious little facts, would remain unknown.

“Any sight of him?” Amelia inquired, breaking into her thoughts.

“None,” Willow said. “But the night is not over. We mustn't forget that the times he's come into theaters, he's always robbed those in their box seats, not in the lobby. Perhaps he's waiting until the intermission is over.”

“How's the chocolate business?” an unfamiliar voice asked. Meg was about to answer when another voice did it for her.

“As it turns out, an excellent investment,” the second voice said.

They were both women and the conversation had caught the attention of the rest of sleuths as well.

The two women having the discussion were behind Meg, and she wanted to turn and see their identity, but she couldn't do so without being too obvious. Not only that, but most people knew who she was, and she didn't want the fact that she was standing right there ruin her opportunity to listen in on this private chat.

“The two gentlemen I'm funding,” the second voice
said, “have developed a new and rather exciting idea for packaging.” The voice was not familiar at all, no matter how Meg struggled to place it. “Keepsake boxes,” the lady whispered.

Meg felt her eyes go round and Amelia actually released a loud “Oh,” but no one seemed to notice.

“I only just saw them this afternoon, and they're divine. The development of these could put the Leighton Brothers in serious competition with the rest of the confectioneries,” she said.

“I'm certainly glad to see this investment turned out better than your last three, Mildred.”

“As am I.”

The lights flickered, indicating it was time for them to return to their seats, but Meg and the other girls remained where they were while the rest entered the auditorium.

“Who was that?” Meg finally asked. “I couldn't place either voice and I so desperately wanted to turn around and look at them.”

“Mildred Sommerset,” Charlotte said. “I don't recall anything in particular about her, but I know I've met her once or twice. She's wealthy, but I'm not certain why. I believe she's a widow. I didn't recognize the other woman.”

“I didn't know either of them,” Willow said.

“Nor I,” Amelia said. “But they certainly had some interesting information to share. Do you know anything about the Leighton Brothers?”

“I've heard the name, but not in a while. They're a smaller confectionery and rather new, only starting up in the last year or so,” Meg said. “I'd have to ask my father for more information.”

“Sounds as if the thief might have sold those boxes to the Leightons,” Willow said.

“Indeed,” Meg said. She would have to go and see Gareth tonight, tell him of this information. They needed a plan of how they could visit the Leightons and prove the boxes had been sold to them. She would not allow someone to steal her father's ideas and profit from them.

“We should get back in there; the music is starting,” Amelia said.

Meg had no mind for the music after that. She barely heard one note and was eager for the evening to end.

“We had no luck again,” Willow said as they waited for their cloaks.

“Don't fret,” Amelia said. “The Jack of Hearts is a clever one. It's simply impossible to predict when he'll strike.”

“She's right. But it was certainly fun to be out with all of you.” Meg smiled. “The information we overheard sounded promising. I am most eager to share it with Gareth and see how he thinks we should proceed.”

“Indeed,” Charlotte agreed. “This could be the missing element needed to solve this case.”

“I suppose for that reason, the evening was not a complete loss,” Willow said.

“We mustn't forget, it was also vastly entertaining to watch dear Charlotte swat all those men away like pesky dock flies,” Amelia said with a giggle.

“Yes, yes, entertaining,” Charlotte said drolly. “Might I point out that you three are not any more tempting to dear Jack than I.” She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly pleased with herself.

“He is proving to be quite elusive,” Meg said.

“Perhaps I'll invite Detective Sterling over for dinner and see what the Yard thinks about him,” Amelia said. “Care to join us, Willow?”

Willow shuddered. “I don't believe I will. But I do appreciate your hospitality.”

Their cloaks arrived, and they stepped out into the cool night air.

“The three of us can share a hackney. Meg, there's no reason for you to ride all over London dropping us off. It's late and you have a longer ride to get home,” Charlotte said.

“Are you certain? Because it's no trouble at all,” Meg said.

“No, you go ahead,” Willow said.

“Very well.” She kissed them each on the cheek and then climbed into her carriage. “Good night.”

She must find Gareth and tell him all that she'd learned tonight. She couldn't ignore the bit of thrill coursing through her at the thought of his seeing her in such a dress.

 

Gareth was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall when he heard the knock. He glanced at the clock; quarter after midnight. Who else was up at this hour? He was only awake because a certain siren with flaming hair wouldn't give his mind a single moment's rest.

He stood and walked to the door, not even bothering to don a shirt. Whoever it was that dared to rouse him at this time of night could very well take his state of undress.

He cracked the door, then opened it all the way when he saw that it was the siren herself. “What the devil are you doing here? At such an hour?”

“I had to see you,” she said.

“How did you even get in here?”

“I told Mrs. Silsby that I had an urgent message for you from my father,” she said.

“And she believed you?”

“Are you going to invite me in, or do I have to stand out here whispering in the hall?” she urged.

He stepped out of the way to give her entrance to his rooms.

“Mrs. Silsby trusts me implicitly. She was our housekeeper for years.”

“This is not the way to keep your reputation intact, Meg. Are you trying to start a scandal?” he asked.

“You're the one who's undressed,” she said.

“I was going to bed.”

“Why are you still whispering?”

He cleared his throat.

She removed her cloak to reveal a deep purple dress with a plunging neckline that molded to every luscious line of her body. His mouth went dry, and he became very aware of the fact that he was not fully dressed.

“You're not fully clothed yourself,” he said, then added, “it's a nice gown.”

She smiled prettily. “Thank you. We went out tonight to lure the Jack of Hearts, but were unsuccessful.”

“The four of you went out in your fancy gowns to try to tempt a thief?” He chuckled in spite of himself. “Quite risky, don't you think?” He paused
briefly, then said, “that's a foolish question when it comes to you. It is as if you thrive on the daring and perilous.”

“He never came, so it mattered not. But I did discover another bit of information that might help us with our investigation.”

He knew he should feel grateful. She'd been willing to help him when she scarcely knew him. She'd always believed his innocence. He owed her so much, but instead of feeling gratitude, he felt only annoyance. Irritated that she was in a position to discover such information.

And irritated with himself because if he'd only tell everyone the truth about himself, he too would have such opportunities. But he would never use that name, because to do so, he'd have to take all the responsibility that came with it. That was something he wasn't prepared to do.

He leveled his eyes on her. “What did you discover?”

“While we were at the concert, we overheard a conversation between two women.” She filled him in on the details of all she heard.

Gareth found himself smiling. She was a clever sleuth. A vaguely familiar feeling constricted his heart. He could have sworn it was pride.

“What do you know of the Leighton Brothers?” he asked.

“Very little.”

“I haven't heard anyone speak of them here. That doesn't mean someone doesn't know something about them,” he said.

“I plan to ask Papa about them tomorrow. See if he knows anything specific. After that, we can formulate our next move,” she said.

Red, springy curls fell seductively around her shoulders, while the rest of her hair was pulled up in an elaborate coiffure. She looked so beautiful, it was almost painful to look at her. It was beginning to get a little uncomfortable in his breeches as his arousal was straining against the fabric.

Draped across her neck was a stunning amethyst; the gem made an arrow to her tempting cleavage. Although he would have found it without the directions. Her breasts rose and fell with her breath and he found he was nearly entranced by their rhythm.

Without giving much thought to the consequences, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her against him. “Did you not think this dress would tempt me, minx?”

He did not give her opportunity to answer before he lowered his lips onto hers. The feel of her body tightly encased in that velvet dress pressed against his naked chest was intoxicating, and he groaned into her mouth.

Her kisses were exhilarating. Soft, plush lips melted with his own and the fire of her tongue shot blood pouring into his groin. God, he wanted her. But to have her, he'd have to continue taking what was not his to take. Gamble with her feelings as if she were nothing more than a game of chance.

He was more like his father than he wanted to admit.

He ended the kiss, but did not step away from her. He held her close to him, breathing in the scent of her
hair, his eyes still closed. How quickly she had bewitched him.

“You should go,” he whispered. She must be so confused. Pushed and pulled at his whim. He should apologize, but found no words for it. He wouldn't touch her again, no matter how tempting. He wouldn't play with her emotions in such a reckless manner. She meant too much to him now, and he wouldn't hurt her that way.

She nodded against him.

He grabbed her cloak and helped her back into it. “Is the carriage still here, or would you like me to walk you home?”

“No, he's waiting for me.”

“Very good. I hear your father is coming back to the factory soon. He must be recovering well.”

She nodded. “Quite well. It won't be too much longer now.”

She stood there a moment longer. Perhaps waiting for him to say something else, but he was at a loss. And he certainly didn't want to say something he'd regret. Something he could never take back.

“Good night, then,” she said, then slipped out of the door.

“Good night,” he answered, but the door closed before she could hear.

He'd blamed her dress and he'd once before accused her of bewitching him. But the truth was, none of this was her fault. He had a hard time resisting her, but that was his own damn weakness. A sliver of moonlight spilled onto the floor.

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