Page 121 of The Lyon Returns
“Never fear, Gwen. Brice has volunteered to accompany me.”
She vacillated between fisting her hands at her sides and wringing them before her. “Oh, that relieves me greatly,” she said with unmistakable sarcasm. “Why not allow the authorities to deal with the man?”
He lifted his hand to curve his palm around her nape and run the pad of his thumb along her jawline. Her skin was so soft. So unconscionably soft. “I’ve just been through this with Brice. My basis for suspecting him is sound, but hardly something Scotland Yard or the Home Office would consider worthy of their attention.”
Her frown deepened.
“Are you worried for me, Gwen?” he asked, his voice low.
“Yes,” she admitted without hesitation.
He wrapped an arm around her slender waist, drawing her to him. “Would you give me a kiss for luck?”
Her arms twined around his neck. Lifting herself on tiptoe, she leaned into him, her breasts ripe and supple against his chest, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
The desire to drag her close, to deepen the kiss, to lose himself in her sweet, inviting flesh was as instantaneous as it was, now, familiar. Alas, now was not the time. He needed answers. Dirk deserved vindication.
Dropping his hands from her, he stepped back. “I should not be too late. The ex-agent does live in a more rural part of London, so traveling there and back will take some time. Don’t wait on dinner for me.”
“Very well. I shall want to speak with you the moment you return, however,” she said, her eyes unblinking and very fierce, as if she could bend him to her will by sheer determination. “Promise me.”
An odd warmth flooded his chest. “On my honor, madam.”
As he reached the door, she called to him. “Gideon!”
“Yes?” He glanced back at her.
The ferocity was gone. Worry eked from her sky-blue eyes. “I do not like this at all. Do be careful, Gideon.”
“How do youwant to proceed, once we arrive?” Brice asked Gideon as the carriage reached the outskirts of the village of Hampstead Heath where Rory evidently lived.
“I plan to question him.”
Brice waved an impatient hand, clearly expecting more.
“I should think the answer obvious.”
“Perhaps to a criminal master mind such as yourself.”
Perhaps Gideon was being unfair. He had spent a lot of time in Gwen’s company of late, and her seeming sixth sense when it came to his reasoning might have skewed his expectation of others’ intellectual capabilities.
Leaning back, he stretched one arm over the seat cushion and strove for a patient tone. “I shall ask him if he lied about my shipments arriving short items on the manifest. I’ll ask if someone put him up to lying, how he funded his retirement, if he ever visited Dirk at his home. Questions along those lines.”
Brice gawked at him. “Dirk’s home? Why? How’s that even relevant?”
The man’s vehemence took Gideon by surprise. He studied his friend in the dim light of the darkening cab. Droplets of sweat beaded Brice’s brow. That was odd, since the late fall air at this time of day held a threat of winter.
“Perhaps, if we can convince him someone spied him in the vicinity of Dirk’s home in Wapping, he might be more inclined to talk.”
Brice withdrew a snowy-white handkerchief and mopped his face in an absent manner. “I still do not see the point. If he’s guilty of lying about your shipments, and if he lied in order to get you out of the way, we already know he colluded with Dirk, but do as you please—as you will in any case. What if hedoesconfess? What do you propose we do, then?”
Gideon decided Brice must be suffering a case of nerves. “We shall take him to Scotland Yard.”
“And if he resists? If he becomes violent?”
Gideon heaved a sigh. Evidently, allowing Brice to accompany him had been a mistake. “Are you sure you wish to proceed, Brice? I can have the driver convey you home.” It would be a colossal waste of time at this point, but he did not want a hysterical man on his handswhile he dealt with Rory.
The dark-haired man pinched the bridge of his nose. “And risk my best mate? Zounds, man, if anything happened to you, your wife would flay me alive.”
