“Wait, what are you doing?”
“We are leaving.” He took her elbow to lead her back to the hallway, but she dug in her heels.
Disenchantment warred with purpose. She had to find out more about Randell and now one more worry weighed her down. Mr. Zander. Randell was using her alias as a cover up to his crime. If Randell was outed and placed the blame on Zander, a thorough investigation by the home office would mean trouble for her and the many innocents her endeavor helped. She had already lied outright to Langdon about knowing Zander, which added to her unrest. “Go? We can’t go, we have to search the office.”
“It will be a waste of time,” he said, mouth pressed in a grim line. “You promised to do as I said. Now we must leave here before we’re found out.”
Fingers curled into fists, she cursed the concession she’d made. Everything inside her head screamed no to his proposal, but she had given her word. “How do you know?” she hissed so her voice wouldn’t echo in the empty hallway, attempting once more to change his mind.
He said nothing, only continued to lead her back the way they came.
Night was descending fast, the lights from the houses around the square shone a dull gold. The once bland neighborhood appeared rather quaint without the harsh light of day showing its many faults.
They crossed the street where the carriage was parked and the groom opened the door for them. Elizabeth allowed Langdon to assist her inside. Her earlier excitement had faded and fear replaced it.
Langdon spoke to the groom briefly before he entered the carriage. Once the door shut behind him, he took the seat next to her instead of the one opposite. He pulled back the curtain draping the small window.
She reached out to clasp his hand. His face was in the shadows and she had to strain in the dim light to meet his troubled stare. “Langdon, I think we should go back and look for those papers.”
“As I said, it is too late.” A grim smile crossed his lips, his countenance grave. “You can be assured that anything incriminating will have been taken.”
“You don’t know that. The place was in shambles. The miscreant who did this might have missed something in his haste.” The suspense was killing her. Being close and not confirming what she suspected ate her up inside. Yet another weakness she had to contend with.
He let loose a heavy sigh and linked his fingers with hers. “He might have.”
The strength of his hand brought her comfort. Something about him made her wish to lean on him. She never had the luxury of being weak. From the moment she was born, she’d been at a disadvantage, and her physical limitations as a result of the accident had only made the struggle twice as hard. “Then we need to go back.”
“We can’t even if we wanted to, Elizabeth.” He dropped his hold on the drape and lifted his cane to rap on the ceiling.
“Why not?” She clutched at the cool wood, stopping him from performing the task. She tugged his hand closer to her chest, needing to make him understand her urgency.
“Because Mr. Pike just exited a hackney.”
“Oh no.” She leaned over Langdon and tugged the curtain back. Her view was blocked by the angle of the carriage. Frustrated, she stood and sat on his lap, impervious to the inappropriateness of such an action. Pike was in the process of opening the door. For a shocking moment, she gawked at him. He seemed to sense someone watching for he looked about. His gaze settled on their carriage and she froze, not daring to move.
The hardness of his body beneath her bottom registered in her mind, along with the fact that Pike continued to stare for what seemed like forever, although it was mere seconds before looking away. He let himself in and after one last darting glance about, closed the door.
Elizabeth let loose an involuntary shiver and sagged against Langdon. “He is going to be in for quite a shock.”
“Indeed.” Warm questing lips settled on her neck, his arms gliding around her waist.
The air in the carriage thickened, and her heart raced in anticipation. She rested her head on his shoulder, granting him greater access. The night had been full of surprises, but this one would eclipse anything she’d experienced before. He shifted her on his lap until her back was against the carriage wall. She faced him, drinking in the sight of his strong profile. The skin on his cheekbones was taut with desire. Large palms cupped her cheek, his thumb bringing her mouth to his own. Her breath caught, nipples constricting under the chemise. He wanted her. She looped her forearm around his shoulders, aching for more of his kisses.
“Elizabeth,” he rasped against her upturned mouth, his breath hot on her eager lips. “I want you.”
“Then take me.” She sunk her fingers into his hair, tangling them in the golden strands. The events of the day faded into the background, and inside the carriage only the two of them existed. She wanted him with every fiber of her being and parted her lips in invitation. He glided his tongue along hers, tempting her beyond words. She brought her palm to his cheek and angled her chin to deepen the kiss. It was not sufficient. Nor would it ever be sufficient when it came to Langdon. He released the closures on her farthingale and the material gaped, cool air rushing over heated skin.
His kiss was like a heady wine, intoxicating to her already heightened senses. She slipped the fabric off, and broke contact, her harsh breathing matching his own. He caressed her cheek with a knuckle before he drifted his fingers down her collarbone, playing over the eager flesh. She met his liquid gaze. Passion rested there, sparking her own lust.
“Are you certain?” he asked, hazel eyes begging for her answer.
“Very, very certain.” More than words could express.
Capable hands unfastened the buttons on her gown. The neckline gaped as a grin transformed his intense regard. He caught her mouth, devouring her with his hungry kisses. Langdon was a passionate man, and he kindled a flame inside her. He moved his hand to her breast, palm cupping the weight. She arched into his touch, nipples begging to experience more of the magic he wrought. Her time with Harold had been full of lustful, hurried romps with nary time to savor the experience. Harold had been a boy with a boy’s impatience. Langdon was a man, and from the way he spread kisses along her jaw, he was in no hurry to end what was turning out to be a promising encounter.
A horse nickered outside, and the carriage rocked before voices could be heard from the coachman. The world existed outside, but inside the carriage it was simply the two of them.
He licked a path around her areola, flicking the sensitive nipple with the tip of his tongue. She massaged the nape of his neck, desire increasing with every movement of his lips. He drew her nipple into the heat of his mouth, suckling the throbbing flesh.
