He hid a smile. “Let me know what you decide.”
Entranced by her expressive face, he adjusted his strokes to maximize her pleasure. Soon she was moaning, her dew coating his fingers.Damn, but she was responsive. So sweetly lusty. Her hips rocked demandingly into his touch, and he rubbed her nubbin harder at the same time that he cupped her breast, pinching the needy tip.
Her lips formed an “O” of surprise. She came suddenly, beautifully. Her moisture gushed into his palm, and his turgid cock jerked in response, seed leaking and dampening his smalls.
Groaning, he was bending to claim her mouth again when he heard a shattering noise.
His head swung up. “What was that?”
“Wh-what?”
She blinked at him, cheeks flushed and eyes languid, tempting him to forget whatever he thought he’d heard. But his gut told him something wasn’t right. Swift Nick apparently sensed it too, for the ferret was bounding toward the door that separated the billiards and drawing rooms.
“It sounded like glass breaking.” Shoving on his spectacles, Harry retrieved his pistol from his jacket before striding to join the animal, who was now doing an agitated dance by the door. He swung to look at Tessa. “Stay here.”
She nodded, eyes wide.
He readied his weapon, yanked the door open, and saw the cause of the noise: a gaping hole in the front window. As he headed toward it, he glimpsed figures moving in the darkness beyond.
“Who’s there?” he shouted. “Answer me, or I’ll shoot.”
“Toss ’em in. No time to light the rest,” a man’s voice hissed. “Let’s get out o’ ’ere!”
Before Harry could take aim, two objects came hurtling through the broken window…iron canisters with lit fuses, rolling in opposite directions. Harry ran to the closest one, stamping out the flame. The other was out of reach, fuse almost burned, no time to get there. Moving on instinct, he scooped up the device he’d deactivated and sprinted toward the billiards room.
He made it through the doorway, grabbing a frozen Tessa, dragging her to the billiards table. Shoving her beneath the heavy wood frame, he dove under, covering her body with his. A blast tore through the night, the ground shaking. Plaster rained onto the table overhead.
He lifted his head. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She looked stunned but unharmed. “What happened?”
“Explosive device. I have to check the drawing room.”
He rolled off of her, pulled them both to their feet. As he did, the unexploded tube bumped in his pocket. He removed it carefully, set it on the billiards table.
“Is that…?” Tessa stared at the canister, the cotton stuffing coming out of one end.
Cotton that looked innocent but could kill.
“It’s highly volatile,” he warned. “Don’t touch it.”
He would examine it later, but he already knew what it was.
Because he’d created it.
How did the explosive cotton end up in a blasting device? Is this the work of Aloysius De Witt?
“There’s smoke coming from the drawing room,” Tessa gasped.
Bloody hell.Pushing aside his turmoil, Harry scanned the room for something to fight the fire. He went to the window, yanked down a velvet drape. “Wake the house, go!”
She took off running.
Gripping the fabric, he sprinted to the drawing room to face the rising flames.
13
The grey,ghostly light before dawn matched the somber mood in her grandfather’s study.
