Three Nights of Sin (13 page)

“Look and feel.”

She looked at her fingers on top of his. His middle finger joining his first as he delved inside of her, the hard pads of his fingers stroking the soft interior, increasing the heat. The tip of her finger touched her curls, the skin beneath, as he delved more deeply. His other hand took her fingers in his and touched them to her. Moving them down and around his. Her fingers skimmed something that made her body twitch.

He wrapped her fingers back around him and touched her with his thumb, stroking over the same spot. Heat shot through her. She arched toward him, pulling along his length.

“Shhh.” His voice was heavy and strained. “I know. Just a little more.”

His fingers had disappeared
inside
her. They were doing something, some dance from within, twisting and scissoring. The heat wanted to explode, needed to explode.

He was an exceptional dancer. The inane thought leapt through her mind.

His mouth returned to her breasts. She arched forward, into his mouth, into his fingers. The butterflies beat a mad staccato. His fingers withdrew and he framed her face with his hands.

“I’m going to have you now, Marietta.”

She leaned forward and kissed him, her body naturally arcing into his. The fear that she might have possessed,
had
possessed, gone, obliterated by the trust she now placed in him. That he had engendered with his slow movements and running dialogue.

He wouldn’t hurt her.

She felt a nudge against her curls, even though his hands were still touching her cheeks as they lay on their sides, face-to-face. “Rest your knee on top of mine.”

She did as he suggested, opening a vee between her legs. She looked down and saw him pushing back toward her, and heat swirled again. The tip of him pushed against her, just as his fingers had, and the sounds returned.

“Just a little bit at a time. I want you to push against me every time you feel able.”

She gave a little push and felt some resistance. She paused. He kissed her.

“Sweet and slippery. Your body needs to adjust,” he whispered against her lips.

He touched her nipple with his free hand, lightly pulling the tip between his fingers. She arched toward him, the heat below demanding satisfaction. Another inch inside.

“Shhh. Just hold yourself there for a second.” He continued to play with her breast, and she gritted her teeth to keep from moving. He pulled out a bit and then pushed back in. A wave of heaviness passed over her head. Anxiety to move. To reach something.

“Halfway, love. Which—”

She grabbed his head and pulled him toward her, kissing him hard. Breaking his touch on her breast and dragging him inside. His eyes were bright green and triumphant when he pulled away.

He flipped them so he was lying on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her head. He pulled out and gave a short thrust and then another, the promised slide materializing as he pushed farther in. Her feet scrambled on the bed, trying to find purchase to push up, to reach that heat that everything to this point had promised.

“Keep pushing, that’s right. Wrap your legs around me. Follow everything your body tells you and let go of the rest.”

He pulled out and thrust all the way inside her. Her head fell back, the feeling too much, and she moaned, deep and loud. She was too far gone to feel embarrassment. She just wanted relief.

“Don’t forget to breathe, Marietta. Deep breaths. Moaning is good. That’s right.”

He thrust in again, the long length of him spearing her and lifting her an inch off the bed. Her legs, wrapped around him, pushing forward, to touch the place that he had just rubbed. He pulled back, and when he thrust this time she lifted her hips to meet
him. The edge of her vision went hazy. Sparks of flint ignited, she could feel her mouth caught in a silent scream.

“Sweet and lovely. Let go, love.”

He thrust again and again and she barely could lift her hips as she followed his direction and let go of everything. Moaning and gasping against his shoulder, she burst apart in his arms, butterflies scattering to the four corners of the room.

G
abriel awakened abruptly to a vigorous knock on the front door. He glanced at the clock to see the hands lethargically indicating a hair past five in the morning. He hadn’t planned on rising for thirty more minutes. Sixty if he was feeling lazy.

A lock of brown hair slid along his arm. He was definitely feeling lazy. Perhaps he would stay in bed all day. He looked over to see the brown head buried into a pillow at his side. He lifted a hand to lightly touch her back. He had never invited a woman to his bed, choosing other locations instead, but she looked natural there.

A heavy knock fell again, and he suddenly realized where he was, with no butler to answer the door. Off his game again.

He threw back the covers on his side and grabbed a dressing robe. As his brain started reasserting itself, he hoped whoever was at the door realized their days were numbered. He saw Marietta’s body shift in his peripheral vision as he stormed from the room. The knocking continued.

He opened the front door to see one of his footmen, Billy, standing on the stoop looking apoplectic. Gabriel motioned him inside and counted to ten.

“Mr. Charlie sent me, sir. He said to give this to you immediately.”

Gabriel took the missive and opened it. “Why didn’t you just come inside and awaken me?”

“Forgot the key in my rush. Mr. Charlie said it was of the utmost importance that I get this to you immediately. Sorry, sir. Won’t do it again, sir.”

Gabriel started to mutter something suitably terrifying, which would even have cowed Charlie, his giant butler, when his brain caught up to the realization that Marietta had been in bed with him and the whole thing might have been
awkward.
Billy was looking terrified already, and Gabriel decided to rib him instead, until his eyes caught the first paragraph.

The paper crinkled in his fingers. “Did you bring the carriage?”

“Yes sir, out front, it is.”

“Good, stay here.”

Gabriel took the steps two at a time. Another murder. All remnants of sleep cleared from his head, as he’d been taught to do in his youth. They would have to free Marietta’s brother now. That was the good news. That the real killer was still running around, and Marietta would be leaving him, was the bad.

He paused at the top of the steps. Should he awaken her or let her sleep? The scene would be gruesome. She didn’t need to see it. He aligned his steps so they were silent on the floor.

His silence didn’t matter. She was sitting up in bed, looking rumpled and delicious, the sheets pulled around her.

“What is happening?” Her voice was husky but alert.

He hesitated.

“Gabriel?”

“There’s been another murder. I’m going there. Go back to sleep and I will return by the time you rise.”

“Another murder? Like the others?” Her hand dropped from the sheet and exposed part of her breast to his lovely view. “Go back to sleep? No, I’m coming with you.”

He wasn’t surprised. Her grit was one of his favorite qualities. Still…“It won’t be pretty. Think of what your brother described.”

He saw her shiver, but she shook her head. Her eyes were clear, her expression determined. “I’m coming.”

He nodded. “Get dressed. Call if you need help. We are leaving in ten minutes.”

They left in eight.

The streets were foggy and dark. The early morning shadows from the gaslights cast odd shapes against the buildings and stones.

Gabriel watched Marietta stare through the window at the passing streets. Last night had been…interesting. He had taunted and seduced her and found himself falling into his own trap.

She was…interesting.

She made him laugh.

She didn’t hold her tongue around him. Most
women bent over backward to please him. Oh, there had been a few who hadn’t in the past, but none of them had produced a pull, a desire to continue a liaison for the pure joy of it. And even if her face went moon-eyed with want like so many others, he
wanted
to see the expression on her.

Strange.

His driver pulled up to the curb. There were a lot of people milling around the area, and the watchmen were trying to keep them away from the corner, a daunting task with the two streets converging and four directions to watch. Dresden was roaming the crowd, sharp eyes taking in each face.

“Dresden is here.” He tapped a finger against the window. “If we exit, he will know who you are without a doubt.”

“You said he probably already does.”

“He will hunt you.” He thought about confining her to the carriage.

Her shoulders straightened. “Kenny is going to be exonerated. He will have nothing to hunt me for.”

Gabriel wondered what she would do after her brother was freed. Try to get back into society? Retire to the country? Find some young man to marry who didn’t mind her tongue or the fact that she would try to be the strong one in the relationship?

He wondered if he could continue a liaison with her. He was strangely unwilling to let her go.

He had worked with scores of women over the years. He had even been interested in a few. But the attraction ultimately fizzled. Every time.

This one was still going strong. He had known it
before taking her to bed too. Had scared him witless for a moment.

What was it about her that kept his attention? He watched her clutch her hands as she looked out to the crowd, nervous and excited to see her brother freed. She wasn’t the prettiest. She wasn’t the smartest or the tallest or the bravest. But she was all of those things wrapped together in a package that just seemed to fit
him
. How utterly terrifying.

He had never imagined Marietta Winters walking in and blowing a hole in his well-planned life.

He pushed open the door. He would see what happened. And if she didn’t come to him…he would
bring
her to him.

He helped her down from the carriage and they walked toward the scene. Dresden’s eyes focused on them immediately and narrowed. Gabriel snapped his fingers for Billy to follow. The young footman jumped down from his spot on top with the driver.

Pushing through the crowd, Gabriel saw the outline of blood on the ground, but no body.

“Cor. Where’s the gal? Anyone know her name?”

He sent a silent thanks to the older woman hovering nearby for asking the questions he wanted answered.

“Moved to Coroner’s Court already. Heard she was broken and unrecognizable.”

“Like the others. They caught the wrong man!”

A murmur went through the crowd, and he saw the relief in Marietta’s stance. The Runner clapped his hands. “Actually, that is not entirely true.”

Marietta stiffened and Gabriel fought from doing the same.

“It looks like an internal maneuver, and we are bringing in the Middlesex murderer’s brother for questioning.” He looked directly at Marietta. “The whole family is suspect.”

Gabriel tamped his shock. Dresden was no fool. He knew that cutting off the pleas of innocence and giving the crowd an alternative that would make them feel as if the problem were under control would stave the tide. And if the savage look Dresden had leveled in their direction was anything to go by, now that he had an acknowledgment of who they were, he was taking their actions personally. Gabriel turned and gave Billy swift instructions. The boy darted through the crowd, and Gabriel pulled Marietta closer.

“Mark.”

“Shhh. Let’s get to Coroner’s Court.”

He didn’t look away from Dresden. The Runner’s dark smile across the crowd boded ill. “In fact, the sister of—”

Gabriel signaled abruptly to his driver, and the edges of the crowd screamed as the horses went wild and the carriage careened off. His driver would be receiving an increased wage soon.

He pulled Marietta through the back of the crowd as everyone was distracted and running about. She didn’t say anything as he pulled her around the corner. Her eyes were empty and unfocused. He reached down and gripped her hand as they rounded another corner, turning back and moving parallel to the scene they’d just left. His carriage was waiting at the end of the street in response to his clockwise signal.

He lifted her into the carriage and motioned to the driver. “Coroner’s Court. Quickly. We have about twenty minutes to keep ahead.”

He was barely seated when the carriage took off.

“Mark,” Marietta whispered.

“He will be fine. Billy will get him out of your house, if possible. Focus.” He snapped his fingers in front of her glazed eyes. “I am going to run into the court to see what I can find.”

A bit of spirit returned to her eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

“Fine.” Frankly, he would have been worried if she hadn’t argued. “We need to be quick, though. I have a contact in the building who has already been alerted. We can work from there.”

She was standing much taller when they entered the building. Not like a woman who might lose both brothers to mob madness.

They walked into the court. A crowd of people were positioned around a body in the corner.

“Sorry, sir, but you aren’t allowed in here.”

He flashed a smile at the guard. “Assistant to Nathaniel Upholt. Rory Carney.” He shook the bemused guard’s hand. “He sent me ahead to gather the initial information. I see that you are doing a fine job maintaining order.”

The guard puffed up a bit. “We try our best, sir.”

“Do you think we might have a look before the mob appears? It would be very helpful.” The man looked to be above a bribe, but there was a tattered edge to his trousers. Taking a chance, Gabriel palmed a note and shook the man’s hand again.

The guard’s hand closed around the note, and he looked undecided for a second.

“We will be out of the way. Five minutes is all.”

The guard looked around and nodded. “Five minutes.”

Gabriel flashed another smile. “Thank you, my good man.”

He walked over to the milling crowd, Marietta pressed behind him. Members of the court, patrolmen, and watchmen all gathered together talking. He recognized a few from their recent excursions and his previous case encounters, so he kept his head bent.

There was soaked blood on most of the cloth covering the body. He tucked Marietta farther behind him. She could look if she wanted, but he wasn’t going to force her to stare if she didn’t.

A man was cleaning the woman’s bloody face, which was bared above the cloth. Another man was making notes, and they were talking back and forth.

“Bruising on her wrists. Matches the second victim. The other two were without. Blow to the head. Slit throat. Open at the midsection…”

Gabriel let the words wash over him. The wet cloth was moving along the victim’s cheek and something was stirring inside him. A sliver of fear.

The cheekbones of the woman were both bruised, but there was something very familiar about her. Her brown hair was matted, but he could see a pearl comb hanging from a tangled lock of hair.

“Interesting cuts along her necklace—”

No.

“—emeralds, do you think? Someone with money.”

It couldn’t be.

“As if someone was outlining it. Taunting? Her money? Maybe a gift from a lover?”

A gift from her rich father. Flaunted and taunted. The report from his investigator had said she’d never parted with it even after the family money had dwindled away.

A forehead was uncovered, a pointed chin. The sheet slipped to the side and he could see the emerald and gold necklace heavy and dull at her throat. Covered by blood and set on a crusted red riverbed.

He heard a crash and looked to see the small table at his side on the floor, felled like an uprooted tree.

He had to get out of here.

He stumbled out of the room, barely registering Marietta at his side asking him if he was sick.

“Poor bloke. Some men can’t handle the sight, ’tis true enough,” someone said.

One of many faces he had hoped never to see again. Not that he particularly cared that she was dead. He hated her. Hated them all. But he had separated himself from his past long ago. What the devil was going on?

“Gabriel?” Marietta whispered.

Her voice came from far away, though there was a hand on his arm and another around his waist. He forced his eyes closed, then opened them again slowly as he’d been trained to do. To show no emotion. To show no affect.

He straightened, the hallway stretched in front of
him toward the staircase. “Upstairs.” Better to keep communications short until he could truly take hold of his tangled thoughts.

Where was his father? When had Jeremy’s break begun? Where had his investigator gone? He hadn’t received a report in almost…almost a month. No.

No
.

This could be a coincidence. Could be a nightmare. He had to see the sketches from the other murders.

He pounded against the door that read franklin lewis. It opened and a surprised Frank stepped aside. “Mr. Noble. I received your note. Are you unwell, sir?”

“I’m not unwell, Frank. I need a favor. I can pay.”

“’Course you won’t pay! My last favor didn’t pay my due. What can I do for you?”

“Can you obtain sketches from Coroner’s Court?” He tried to keep the desperation, the abject terror, from his voice.

Frank looked thoughtful. “For how long will you need them?”

“Ten minutes, that’s all.”

“Then, of course. That shouldn’t be a problem. I can have them here and back before anyone notices. And there’s a bloke who owes me in case I can’t. Now’s the best time, while everyone is in a tizzy. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Frank exited the room, leaving him alone with Marietta.

“What happened downstairs? I couldn’t see around your shoulder very well. What I did see was gruesome, though.” She shuddered. “Nightmare inducing.”

“Yes,” he said absently, thoughts coiling and refusing to connect.

“Gabriel?” She touched his chin and turned his face toward her. “We can leave. I’m sure we can come back later.”

A fierce surge of something passed through him. “I’m fine. We need to get through here before Dresden puts a halt on our ability to move freely.”

Dear God. What was he going to do if his ugly suspicions bore fruit?