Mr Daventry’s black eyes brightened. “Yes, my wife is keen to seeMary Queen of Scotsat the Olympic, and she’s the last person I’d ever disappoint.” He stepped down from the vehicle. “We’ll head to Bloomsbury Square directly and see if Lord Oldman is home. I’ll have Gibbs follow my carriage.”
Bloomsbury Square?
But that was a stone’s throw from the museum.
Perhaps the deceased woman worked for Lord Oldman.
Mr Daventry closed the carriage door, leaving her alone with Christian Chance. They both made to speak, both laughed when they interrupted each other again.
“I must thank you, Mr Chance.” A swell of emotion filled her chest as she turned to face him. “No one has ever defended me. No one has ever considered my welfare a priority. I’m most grateful for your assistance today.”
A mischievous smile touched his lips as he spread his legs wider, touching his thigh to hers. “You might reconsider your statement once you’ve spent a few days at Fortune’s Den.”
“Nothing could be worse than my final days at the seminary.” Fearing he might mention Mr Griffin, and quite unable to dismiss the urge to fling herself into his lap, she said, “Would you mind drawing the blinds?”
He studied her for a second, a hopeful gleam in his blue eyes. “Sun too bright for you?”
“No.” She tugged down the blind nearest to her before daring to place a shaky hand on his muscular thigh. She planned to seize the day and decide her own destiny. “I’d rather no outside interruptions when you devour my mouth.”
ChapterTen
Christian’s blood charged through his veins. As a man confident in his ability to please, he knew Miss Lawton desired him. The moment their mouths met, he knew their passions would overwhelm them, and he might not stop until he was pushing deep inside her.
But was gratitude the impetus for her rash decision?
“You know I’d kiss you in a heartbeat.” He was staring at her mouth, his cock hardening as he imagined the wild tangle of their tongues. “But I need to know you wantme, Isabella, not a means of escaping the nightmares. Not a way of repaying a perceived debt.”
Those seductive brown eyes remained fixed on his person. She reached over him, her breasts brushing his chest as she pulled down the open blind, plunging them into darkness. “I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know where I’ll be or what I’ll be forced to do. And so, I mean to snatch every moment of freedom. I mean to follow my heart while I still can.”
“Life is precarious,” he agreed, but he’d be damned if he’d let her father steal her away under cover of darkness. He might have no choice but to pounce on Lawton in a dark alley and drive a blade into his chest. “But we’ve a mile until we reach Bloomsbury Square. Fifteen minutes until we must vacate the vehicle.” No time to indulge their whims.
Her smile turned coy. “How long does it take to kiss a woman?”
Rising to the challenge, he captured her chin. “I fear a lifetime won’t be long enough to satisfy my desire for you.”
Everything about her fascinated him.
“You know how to boost a lady’s confidence, sir.”
“You have me bewitched, madam. I’m totally under your spell.”
She leant closer, her mouth a mere inch from his. “Then let us put your theory to the test. Let’s pray our passion doesn’t wither and die too soon.”
Time was against them. Still, he claimed her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. He closed his eyes, inhaled the scent of exotic soap, and drew her essence into his body—a body tense and aching with need.
“Isabella.” He cupped her nape, stroked the sensitive spot below her ear with his thumb, in the slow teasing way he would her sex.
Touch me, Isabella. Consume me.
“Christian.” She held him rigid in the seat with the heat of her gaze. “Kiss me. Kiss me like you did in the bedchamber. Kiss me like I’m the air you need to breathe.”
His heart thumped hard in his chest.
He was on her in a second. The kiss was rough, a frantic mating of mouths, a wild dance of tongues. They were grabbing each other’s clothes. Touching. Panting. Writhing on the seat.
Lust burned in his veins.
Lust like he had never encountered.