Page 54 of One Dangerous Desire
“Not so fast this time, boy.” Cross pressed a knife against Rex’s waistcoat.
The office door swung open, cracking against the wall. “Drop the weapon, Mr. Cross. Now.” Jack Sullivan took two steps inside the room, pointing a small revolver at George Cross’s back.
“Doubling on me, I see.” His father raised one hand and replaced his knife inside his coat with the other. He glanced over his shoulder at Sullivan. “And who might you be?”
Sullivan made no reply and stared past Cross, only lowering his gun when Rex nodded.
“He’s the man who isn’t going to shoot you. This time. Now, get out.” Rex put a few paces between his father and himself. Being near the man only increased Rex’s urge to hoist him out the nearest window. “Forget about me, and I’ll forget about you. That’s the greatest favor we can do each other, Mr. Cross.”
For a moment, George Cross looked shaken. He pulled in upon himself, hunching his shoulders. Then he took a few steps toward the door, sparing one wary glance at Sullivan.
Rex expected his father to leave without another word.
But after stepping into the hall, Cross turned back. “You haven’t seen the last of me, my boy.”
Chapter Eighteen
THE NEXT DAY, London greeted spring like a groom embraces his new bride. In a nearly cloudless sky, birds fluttered and sang, and bees buzzed around the blooms of yellow tulips and pink hyacinths in Grosvenor Square’s flower beds. May imagined capturing the colors and movement on canvas, but that would have to wait. The day ahead promised to be a busy one. Rex planned to show her the site he’d chosen for his hotel before they attended a press event her father and Mr. Graves had arranged regarding the new London branch of Sedgwick’s. It would be Rex’s chance to speak to her father, and on neutral ground.
Papa could either relent or refuse to give his blessing. Either way, she’d made her choice.
Waiting for Rex at the edge of the square, she found it difficult to keep still. Giddiness quickened her pulse, and anticipation had her pacing the pavement. When she spotted his carriage rounding the corner, she hurried toward it, eager to start their day, their life, together.
The moment he stepped down from the cab, freshly shaved and smelling of bergamot, she wanted to kiss him.
“Show me your hotel,” she said instead.
“There isn’t much to see yet.” The tentative catch in his voice made her grin. He cared about the project so much, and she wanted to share it with him. When they were courting back in New York, he’d patiently endured her rambling at the galleries they visited, or listened as she marveled at the shape of a leaf during one of their jaunts in Central Park. May wanted to hear him enthuse about something he felt passionately about too.
He reached for her, and May was acutely aware of the press of his hands. He left a trail of warmth behind every place he touched her as he assisted her into the hired cab’s snug interior.
“Someone might see me getting into this cab with you and consider it scandalous,” she teased. Each kiss and embrace they’d shared in recent weeks had been beyond the bounds of propriety, and she didn’t regret a moment of it.
“Really?” He looked around as if to assess whether they were being observed, then offered her a wicked grin. Bending near, he brushed his lips against her face before whispering in her ear, “Scandalous, love, is what I’m going to do you once I have you alone in this carriage.”
HE COULD GETused to the feel of her body melting against his when he placed an arm around her or rested a hand possessively at her back. May was more than capable of getting herself up into a hansom cab, but Rex gave in to the need to touch her. To shape his hands around her waist, and remind himself that however much her father grumbled and blustered, she would be his. No one, not even Sedgwick, could frighten him off this time.
Still, George Cross’s sneer was hard to forget, and his mention of May, his veiled threats, gnawed at Rex’s peace of mind. He didn’t want Cross in his own life, let alone hers.
When they were seated inside the carriage and the cab man headed off toward Mayfair, she turned to him, eyes wide. Not with fear, but with eagerness. Desire as potent as his own darkened the blue of her eyes. She flicked her tongue out to wet her lips, and that was all it took to snap his meager grasp on self-control.
He dipped his head to kiss her. Taste her. He couldn’t wait, couldn’t be gentle as he’d planned. Couldn’t make himself go slow.
Need for her pulsed through his body like a drumbeat, demanding he take her, deafening the logical voice reminding him that they were in a very cramped, very open carriage. He shifted his hips so that he could slide an arm around her shoulders, his knee knocking against the wooden cab doors that closed over their legs.
“There’s not much room,” she whispered.
“No, love.” He kissed her again, dancing his tongue along her lower lip until she opened to him. Then he pulled back to watch her eyes. “Just enough for this.” He reached down as he spoke, finding the curve of her warm stockinged leg under piles of petticoat hems and the decorated flounce of her skirt. He slid his hand higher as her mouth opened on a gasp of surprise. Higher, under the lacy edge of her drawers. She spread her legs just enough to allow him to explore, and he pressed into the damp heat and curls at the juncture of her thighs.
The agony was touching what he couldn’t see. He wanted to look and taste and love every inch of her, to know her body so well that nothing escaped his notice. To be closer to May than he’d ever been to anyone. Not just with his scarred body but with every imperfect part of his being.
“Mercy,” May said in a half gasp, half whisper.
Rex nuzzled her neck as he sank his finger deeper into her slick, warm folds. “Are you begging me to stop or urging me to continue?”
“Don’t stop.” She grasped his forearm, gripping tight as she moved her hips to buck against his hand. “Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
“I’ll never stop loving you, May.” Whatever it took to keep her safe. Whatever it took to keep her in his life, he’d do it. Whatever cowardice had caused him to walk away from her once, he would never be that foolish again. Never risk losing the second chance he’d been given.
