“I will see you later, mother.” Without giving her more time to quiz him, he cut to the left where a door was barely discernable in the wallpaper. Under the cover of chaos, he slipped into the relative quiet of the servant’s entrance. Henderson had befriended one of Randell’s servants on Langdon’s request and tricked the inebriated man into giving him the layout of the mansion. He had a good idea where the study was located, and by the length of the receiving line, Randell would be busy for a time.
Langdon walked with caution down a series of dimly lit hallways. If he came upon anyone, he’d simply claim to be in his cups and ask for directions back to the ballroom. As a Viscount, he was afforded certain liberties. Either a search of Randell’s home would yield any information about his finances or result in a false trial.
The study was on the first floor toward the garden. According to Henderson’s information, there was a statue of Aphrodite right outside the door. Another turn and he spied the white marble. With a grim smile, he slipped out the two pieces of slender metal in case the door was locked. One tug at the metal latch told him otherwise. He used the slender metal pieces to pick the lock and once he heard the click, he opened the door and froze.
The swish of fabric alerted him to someone else’s approach. He shot his head up and released a soft growl of annoyance.
“Wait.” Elizabeth stepped out from the shadows and rushed forward. “I...”
Bloody hell. How did he miss seeing her? He clapped his hand over her mouth and lifted her by the waist, pulling her into the room. Every instinct told him to demand she return to the ballroom, but time was limited. He shut the door with his elbow and winced at the sound.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he said in a harsh whisper.
Elizabeth glared at his hand, her breath coming fast. She was pressed tight to his body, all soft woman and curves. The unwelcome observation made him drop his hands. She was still close enough to see the fire in her eyes. He stepped away from her, his mind racing. The situation was precarious and could cause real consequences, the most urgent being discovery by the homeowner. Yet he stood there, unmoving. “You promised me you would let me handle this.”
“I promised nothing.” She inhaled a deep breath, the action pushing her breasts against the bodice of her white gown. With her hair parted in the middle, and artfully curled, she was stunning. “You need me, whether or not you think you do,” she said.
“What I need is for you to return to the ballroom.” With her near, he had a hard time staying focused and that, more than anything, pricked his temper further.
“This is a waste of time, Langdon. As much as it pains you to admit it, I am here and we’re limited on time so I suggest you stop trying to intimidate me and help me look for his books.”
Truer words couldn’t be spoken. “I should open this door and deposit you outside.” He made no move to do so, however She cleared her throat, purpose in her eyes. “But you won’t.”
His gaze fell to her mouth, , his exasperation warring with his practical side. They were committing a crime by breaking into a private residence. Any discovery could cause serious consequences and here he was, thinking provocative thoughts about her. Langdon hissed air from between his clenched teeth. “We’re not through discussing this, Mrs. Adare.”
“Fine.” Elizabeth skirted him and rushed to the large desk that dominated the rectangular room. She bent over, her curvaceous bottom out. He rounded the desk, forcing his mind to focus on the task at hand.
It was dark with the drapes drawn but he hesitated to light a candle. The less of a footprint he left, the better off he would be. He pulled back the drapes on one of the large windows and moonlight flooded inside. Even the smallest mistake could reveal all. Two months spent in a dungeon in Spain had taught him to err on the side of caution. It had been a grim lesson to learn.
Elizabeth pulled at a drawer that rattled but didn’t open. She bit her lip and tried the next one. “Can you unlock these?” she asked in a husky whisper.
He pulled out the two pieces of slender metal he’d used earlier and made quick work of opening all four drawers. To most laymen, the desk was the most logical choice for hiding things. It was also the place that anyone could look if they were persistent enough. If he was a smuggler, he wouldn’t keep illicit information in such a vulnerable place, but he kept that bit of information to himself. She was determined, and it was easier to let her find out for herself than to argue.
After pocketing the tools, he scanned the room for more hiding places. Two wingback chairs near the fireplace, a side table with a decanter of brandy. In the far corner, there was a second door and next to it was another piece of furniture with a globe on top. He returned his gaze to Elizabeth.
Inquisitive eyes met his, an aura of excitement surrounding her. “You must show me how to use those.”
“It is a skill unneeded unless you plan on becoming a housebreaker.” Henderson had taught him how to use the tools of the trade on their first assignment. The man had proven invaluable over the years and in addition to being a wingman, he was also like family.
“Is that why you learned it?” She opened the first account journal, tilting it up to the window to catch the light. Slender arms looked alabaster in the moon's light. Her head back, mouth slightly parted, she was tempting his resolve to remain detached from her. They were alone and if circumstances had been different, he would explore the growing attraction for this infuriating yet intriguing woman.
“I have other skills I am prouder of.” No matter how much he wished to ignore it, the hunger he experienced whenever he was around her was growing exponentially. He would either ignore it or give into the temptation and kiss her. If he were smart, he’d leave while he could. He moved behind her and laid his hand on her waist. He wasn’t feeling very smart at the moment. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”
Chapter Eleven