Page 83 of A Little Bit Dangerous
“Sigmund!” Isabella called, the word lost against the sudden raucous in the card room. She should close the door but couldn’t shut Ethel out. “Hurry!”
But two hulking men appeared in the doorway, monstrous figures blocking her view. Before she could scream, one slapped his dirty hand over her mouth and dragged her into the street while the other calmly closed the gaming hell door.
* * *
A cold chill breezed over Christian’s bare buttocks and back, waking him from slumber. Too exhausted to open his eyes, he reached for the bedsheets but remembered they were bunched at the bottom of the bed, and he’d been too damned hot to care.
Isabella!
Thoughts of her entered his mind. Memories of her magnificent breasts bouncing as he gripped her hips and drove deep inside her. The look of pure satisfaction on her lips when she came apart around his cock.
Feeling the first stirrings of arousal, he opened his eyes and turned to face the only woman he’d ever wanted.
The sudden lurch of his heart forced him up onto his knees. The space beside him was empty. The deep indentation in the pillow convinced him he’d not dreamt the erotic experience.
Panic ensued.
She’d gone!
She’d gone and not told him!
No!
He fought to stem the hole opening in his chest—a cavernous hole that would consume him if he didn’t gather his wits. But then he noticed her pelisse on the floor, her stays flung over the baseboard, and sighed in relief.
A woman with nothing wouldn’t leave without her clothes.
He scrubbed his face with his hand.
Now he knew why his brothers kept their hearts in coffins buried deep underground. The constant fear of loss was like a sickness one couldn’t shake.
Doubtless she had gone to fetch fresh water or had crept upstairs to appease Mrs Maloney. But the din downstairs said men were still drinking and gambling and she knew not to navigate the corridors alone.
The need to ease the escalating sense of dread had him throwing on his shirt and trousers and slipping into his shoes. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the nagging voice in his mind, he knew something was amiss.
The sudden knock on his chamber door did nothing to settle his strained nerves. Three sharp raps meant it was Aaron—the deliverer of doom.
Christian’s hand shook as he opened the door. It had been Aaron who visited him in the middle of the night to tell him his mother was dead. Aaron, who’d delivered the news about his father, and his missing dog.
“Is Miss Lawton with you?” Concern darkened Aaron’s features, not frustration or anger. “I know she came to your room when you returned to the club.”
The lump in Christian’s throat prevented him from speaking. He shook his head while wrestling with his volatile emotions.
Aaron gripped his arm, firm but reassuring. “Did she tell you she planned to leave tonight? Aramis said the conte threatened to take her back to Italy. Do you know where she might have gone?”
His chest tightened. “She’s gone?”
I promise you will always know what I’m thinking.
If I decide to leave, you’ll be the only person I tell.
Her words rang loudly in his head.
She’d lied.
And he’d lost her.
“Christian!” Aaron swore, his temper rising. “Are you listening to me? Curse the devil! I knew this would happen if you fucked her.”
