Chapter Twenty-One
Sophie dropped her gaze, studying the elaborate pattern woven in the carpet’s plush threads. And you. Gavin’s words hit her with the force of a blow.
“Your defense of me may have spurred on the brutality of those men,” she said, collecting her thoughts. “But I suspect you would have been targeted even if you had not come to my aid. The man who drugged you would not risk his neck on behalf of those vermin.”
“True. The question is, what does it all mean?” He pulled in a long breath. “How can I protect you?”
“I do not need you to keep me safe. Your gallantry is admirable, but I do not require a man’s protection.”
His lips quirked. “Other than the old chap with the rifle.”
She smiled, despite her misgivings. She could not let him draw her in. He was not a danger to her when he was surly or provocative. But when he was charming…ah, that was another story entirely.
“Agreed. Though in truth, he was defending you.”
“He is a good man.” Gavin moved to the settee and leaned casually against its back. “How does one acquire a driver with his specific skills?”
“Luck, I suppose.”
His brows dipped. “Am I to believe your affiliation with that gent is the product of good fortune alone?”
“He is employed by a dear friend and her husband…as loyal as they come.”
“I must find a way to demonstrate my gratitude.”
“In time, I’m sure you will think of something.” She fiddled with the lace at her cuffs. “Given what happened last night, you must use caution. I’ve reason to suspect the risk is not over and done.”
“What makes you say that?” His gaze bore through her. “What have you learned?”
She held back the truth. “More questions? You still haven’t explained why you sought out Trask. There are other mediums in London. Why him?”
Gavin shrugged. “You might say he was recommended…by an old friend.”
She held her chin firm, even as her hand trembled with tension. “Did you set out to ruin the man?”
“Yes.”
The blunt honesty of the single word stunned her. “Why…why Trask?”
“He is a dangerous man. Whether by intention or through the sheer callousness of his manipulations, he preys on grief-stricken souls when they are at their most desperate. I had no evidence against him, so I sought out his services. I anticipated documenting his deceptions.”
“You lost someone…someone you cared about.” She spoke the words as a statement, not a question.
“Yes.” The pain in his voice cut like a dull dagger.
“Will you tell me…who it was?”
He dropped his gaze, staring down at the plush carpet beneath his feet. “In time.”
“Gavin, I need to know. I have reason to believe you are in grave danger.”
He cocked his head. “Why should I tell you any more than what I have? We both have our little secrets. What reason is there to change that?”
“Survival.”
“Ah, that’s rich. Am I to believe you will save me from whatever menace is nipping at my heels?”
“No. But you must save yourself. Leave London. Now, while you can.”
He caught her forearms in a loose hold. “Tell me what you’ve learned. What has you convinced this attack was not an act of retribution?”
An invisible weight pressed against her chest. She could not tell him the full truth. Perhaps a taste would do.
“I found a picture of you in Trask’s office. It seems rather odd that the man would have acquired such a thing.”
He seemed to contemplate her words. “The blasted Herald plastered my face all over the front page upon my return from the last expedition.”
“The image I found of you was not so recent. I’d say it dates back more than a year.”
“Where is this picture?”
“I do not have it in my possession at this time.”
He slowly shook his head. “Rather convenient, I’d say.”
“There was another man standing beside you. I understand his name was Peter Garner.”
Gavin froze. For an instant, he looked as if she’d struck him.
“How do you know…about Peter Garner?”
“His name was in the caption,” she fibbed.
He gave a nod, accepting her explanation. “You say this picture…it was in Trask’s office.”
“Yes.”
His jaw hardened. “Bloody hell.”
“As you can see, there may be a connection.” She swallowed against the tension in her throat. She had to guard against revealing too much, against telling him anything that might reveal the truth of her identity. “I needed to warn you of the danger.”
“And that you have.”
She extricated herself from his light hold. “It is time I took my leave… I’ve said enough.”
He strode toward her, cutting the distance with long strides. “I’d rather you stayed.”
“I have obligations I cannot neglect. Besides, I’ve already scandalized Mrs. Edson with my presence. You can well imagine the good woman’s shock when Bertram and I roused her from her sleep.”
“She spoke rather highly of you this morning.”
“Is that so?”
“In her words, you’re a brave girl. And…” He shot her a sly look. “You don’t have a broomstick up your bum.”
Sophie laughed despite herself. “You don’t say. How very touching. Am I to assume the other women you’ve brought here had a stick positioned in that precise spot?”
Amusement shined in his gaze. “You could say that.”
“My, how uncomfortable for them that must have been.”
His subtle smile triggered a fresh ripple of awareness. “Sophie, you never fail to surprise me.”
She wandered to the side table and selected a leather-bound volume of poetry. Leaves of Grass. “I might say the same. I had not envisioned you as an aficionado of Whitman.”
“I’d be hard-pressed to pen a single stanza. Perhaps that’s why I developed an appreciation for someone else’s finely wrought verse.” His eyes took on a stormy cast as his voice lowered and grew rough. “I tend to display an admiration for talents I do not possess and a passion for acquiring that which I cannot have.”
The implication of his words was clear. Or was she merely allowing her heart’s own longing to flavor her understanding?
“You’ve described a common thread that binds us all, a longing for that which is off-limits.”
His mouth curved in a subtle smile. “Forbidden fruit. Always the sweetest.”
The heat in his quiet rasp washed over her, drawing out the desire she’d locked away, the longing she needed so desperately to hide.
She swallowed against the blastedly persistent lump in her throat and tried in vain for a calming draught of air.
“Perhaps it is the peril of succumbing to temptation that makes us hunger for it all the more.”
“Indeed.” He managed to infuse the single word with a note of persuasion. Of danger.
Another soft gulp of air, and she managed to focus her thoughts. She had to get away. Now. Before her yearning turned into a madness she could not overcome.
Sophie turned to the door. “I must be going. I trust you will be well.”
His hand on her sleeve stopped her. “Don’t leave, Sophie. Not yet.”
She spun around. “Why? Why should I stay here? There’s no point.”
“You are still in danger. What happened last night has erased any doubt in my mind. Think, Sophie—what is the common thread that binds us?”
She looked up into his eyes, reading his concern. They’d both become targets, for one reason alone.
“Trask.”
He dragged in a low breath. “Why would anyone want to silence you?”
Silence you. Stated in those terms, the possibility cut through her like a dull blade. She gave herself a moment to compose her thoughts, to retrieve her courage. She could not sacrifice her resolve to a twinge of fear.
“I don’t know.” The words were not a lie, not really. Had someone learned the truth about her mission? Or was the villain intent on tying up any loose ends, as he’d likely done to the unfortunate Valentina?
His hands settled gently on her shoulders, large and strong and warm. “Stay with me. You’ll be safe here.”
The hunger in his voice kindled a longing so intense, her mouth went dry. She could scarcely breathe for wanting him. If only being in such close confines did not present a grave danger. She trusted him with her life. But did she dare trust him with her heart? He might well inflict a wound from which she’d never recover.
She shook her head. “I don’t know if there is a place where I can be truly safe…not now.”
“Give me time…time to convince you.” His voice was lower now, rough-edged and sultry.
“No.” She steeled herself. She had to leave. If she stayed, she might never want to leave.
“Do you believe I’d take advantage of you…if you stay?”
She shook her head. “I know better. Despite your best efforts to convince me to the contrary, I know the man you are.”
“I want you here with me, Sophie. I’ll hire guards. I’ll guarantee you are protected.” He drew her closer, brushing the softest of kisses over the bridge of her nose. “I want to ensure I get the chance to puzzle you out.”
Misery cut into her resolve. She wanted him so desperately. Pulling in a ragged breath, she managed to find her voice. “I cannot stay here. Every minute I’m with you is a risk neither of us can afford to take.”
“I need to know you are safe. I need to know—” Gravel edged his low voice. “I need to know those dark eyes of yours will be here to challenge me.”
“I cannot…it isn’t possible.” If only staying with him would not put her heart at risk. “You should leave London. Now.”
“Not without you.”
Blasted stubborn man. He needed to get away while he still could.
“I know you’re pretending to be something you’re not.” He drew the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, so very softly. “I need to know the truth. Don’t pretend with me.”
The passion in his words washed over her. If only she could abandon this masquerade. But that was not an option. She had to maintain the charade, had to utter the lies that might protect him.
She decided on the truth, at least a small grain of it. “You want more than I can give.”
He framed her face in his hands. The slightly roughened texture of his skin tantalized her.
“I will learn your secrets, Sophie. All of them.”
Her pulse pounded in her ears. If he kissed her…if he took her in his arms and tempted her with his caress, she might be able to resist him. But at this moment, the hunger flavoring his low rasp made her knees weak. Quite unsporting, stripping away what little armor she still possessed.
Pity she could not afford to give in to this longing that permeated to the marrow. The risk was far too great.
“You saved my life.” His sweet breath brushed her lips. “Let me protect you.”
“It may be too late… I should leave.” Her words sounded like a sigh.
He pulled her closer, his clean, natural essence tantalizing her. Holding her almost—but not quite—touching the long, lean length of his body, Gavin dipped his head down, pressing his forehead to hers.
“Stay with me, Sophie.”
Her name sounded so very delicious on his lips. She went very still, drinking in his scent and his touch and the sensual rasp of his words. Oh, God, how she needed to break away.
She needed to save herself, while she still could. Wanting him would bring only trouble. She’d known that from the start. And she’d resisted him. Hadn’t she?
She managed a shallow breath, then another, as if the air around them would ease the pounding of her pulse. He intended to break down the barriers she’d taken pains to erect over the years. He would not settle for lies. Gavin would demand the truth, the one thing she must always deny him.
And without that crucial element of trust, she could never have Gavin Stanwyck.
A sudden realization gripped her, washing over her like a rogue wave—she wanted him. More than she’d wanted anything in her life. She needed to taste his kiss, to feel his fingertips against her skin, to imprint the passion of his touch on her memory.
Her desire was a sweet, heady madness. What harm would there be in surrendering to passion, a fleeting taste of surrender?
Her heart thudded against her chest. Could she truly be so bold?
Slowly, she pivoted away and walked to the door. “So, it’s a challenge you want, is it?”
His eyes darkened to the color of a midnight sea. “Always.”
“In that case,” she managed to utter, “I toss down the gauntlet.”
He watched her, the pupils in his eyes flaring. “You’re sure of this, Sophie?”
“Yes.” Amazing, really. She uttered that single syllable. She’d really done it. She would open her arms to him. She would open her heart.
Slowly, he released her and moved to the door. He turned the key in the lock. “In that case, privacy is of the utmost importance.”