She shook her head. “Can you close the window, please?”
Circling the bed, Julius took one last look at the night sky and pulled the panes shut. He untied the sash around the curtains, letting them fall into place. Concealing his exit. He turned and faced Amanda, her body curled up into a neat ball, almost as small as Reggie’s.
He carried the pitcher of water on his dressing table to his nightstand and dipped his handkerchief in it. He cleaned the dried blood from her skin. “What happened out there? Why did you leave the club?” He waited, impatient for answers. She’d taken five years off his life from fright and she owed him that much.
She shook her head, her breaths shallow and quick.
Tossing the handkerchief down next to the pitcher, he crawled onto the bed, nudging Reggie out of the way. He rolled Amanda to her back and straddled her hips. Pinning her wrists to the bed, he bent down until they were nose to nose. “I repeat, why did you leave the club?”
She sighed, and the muscles beneath him relaxed. “Your suspect was getting away. There was no time to find you.”
Of course. That made perfect sense. “You little fool! Do you realize how reckless that was? Even for a woman without your complaint it would have been harebrained. Anyone could have taken you. Hurt you.” The image of that miscreant bending to pick Amanda up wouldn’t leave his head. He squeezed her wrists. “Women don’t go strolling through London alone at night.”
Her eyes were dark and unfathomable, but at least the fear was gone. “Am I to understand that you don’t want to know what I discovered?”
Julius growled and crawled off the bed. He paced around the room, seething with a swirl of emotions. The woman was so damned frustrating. A timid mouse one moment, a teasing minx the next. He fisted his hands. He needed a trip to Gentleman Jack’s. Something to do with his hands that didn’t involve throttling the woman lying on his bed. He wished he had the same predilection as Marcus. If any woman deserved a spanking, it was Miss Amanda Wilcox for her behavior that night.
He strode for his nightstand and removed his japanned chest, placing it on the bench at the foot of the bed. As soon as his fingers touched rope, the muscles in his shoulders unbunched. He tossed two shorter lengths onto the bed and pulled out the twenty-foot hemp. He dragged the cable through his hands, the movement as soothing as a glass of whiskey before bed.
Amanda raised to one elbow. “What are you doing?”
“Trying my confounded best not to punish you.” With a mind of their own, his fingers knotted the rope in even intervals. After each knot, he tugged on the cable, feeling the tension and the give.
“Was that an option?” Amanda tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes.
He sighed. “Not for you. Not really.” He eyed her form and doubled one of the knots. “But I do need some answers, and I think we’ll both be happier if I work while you talk. Take off the rest of your clothes.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I just—”
“Scared the life out of me? Yes, I know.”
She huffed. “Now is hardly the time—”
He squeezed the rope until the fibers cut into his flesh. “How do you feel when I bind you?”
She blinked and shook her head.
“I can tell you what I see.” He leaned over and combed his fingers through her hair. “Your body becomes pliant and your emotions quiet. It brings you peace. For me, it does the same.” Laying rope over a woman’s body, creating patterns and beauty, bringing pleasure, it all wove together to bring him almost to a state of bliss. “I think if ever we needed this, it would be tonight.”
She held his gaze, her dark eyes seeming to hold the answers to every question he didn’t know he had. Slowly, she rolled to her knees. She slid the strap of her thin gown off one shoulder, then the other, before pushing it down until it puddled on the counterpane. She wore no chemise beneath it, and her small breasts peaked under his gaze. Rolling to her bottom, she swept the gown down and over her feet. She toed off her slippers and slowly drew her stockings down her legs, tossing them in his direction.
Everything in Julius tightened, and he snapped the rope taut between two hands. Definitely a minx.
“What about your clothes?” she asked.
“They stay on. For now.”
She pursed her lips. “How disappointing.”
Biting back a smile, he scooped Reggie up with one arm and put him outside the room. The pup yapped, indignant. Julius squatted down and scratched his head. “I don’t like to be watched. Not even by dogs. Find your own bed.” He shut the door and strode back to Amanda, crawling onto the mattress beside her.
Amanda took his hand and squeezed. He squeezed back, and a world of communication passed between their palms.
Taking his first deep breath since he’d found her in the street, Julius ran the tail end of the rope over her skin. He trailed it over the crease where thigh met abdomen, around her navel, and up between her breasts.
The delicate skin of her chest flushed, and her dusky nipples puckered into hard peaks. Unable to resist, Julius leaned down and kissed her neck, feeling the pounding of her heartbeat beneath his lips. “You frightened me,” he whispered.
“Me, too.” She threaded her fingers through his hair, the caress making the base of his spine tingle.
