“Tell me to stop,” he rasped against her lips. His chest heaved, his control a thin thread ready to snap. “Say the word, Alice, and I’ll end this.”
Her eyes blazed, cheeks flushed. “It’s wrong to want this.”
“I know.” He kissed her again, slower now, deliberate, savoring her as though he might never have the chance again. “And yet, like me, you do.”
She made a sound, half anger and half need, and pressed closer. His hand slid over the curve of her back, feeling the shiver that coursed through her.
More, the word surged through Jamie. He wanted the warm swell of her breasts in his hands, and to taste every inch of her.I want all of her.
For a moment, he forgot everything—the danger and Kenneth Jackson. There was only her, alive and furious and kissing him as though she, too, had been waiting forever for this.
He parted her cloak and slid his hand inside to touch the silk of her dress. Trace the curve of her spine. One of her hands was touching his neck now. Even gloved, it made Jamie shudder.
This woman was dangerous to him, and right then he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but Alice.
The carriage veered left suddenly, and they parted. Jamie gripped Alice as she fell hard into the carriage door.
“Are you all right?” The words came out a hoarse rasp as his eyes ran over her.
Her lips were swollen, curls tumbling free. The rise and fall of her chest and the quick shallow breaths she was taking showed him she was as affected as Jamie. She had never looked more undone. Never more tempting. He reached out a hand, but she backed away.
“I can’t b-believe we did that, again,” she said. “What is wrong with us?”
“It’s called passion, I believe.”
“Well, I want no more of it,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. He had nothing to smile about, but it was there as he studied her angry expression.
“Unfortunately, there is little to be done about it, when—”
“Well, I will do something about it. In fact, we shall never be in a situation for this to happen again. From this day forth, Lord Stafford, we will have no need to speak to each other any further.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Alice.” The lust rampaging through him was rapidly cooling now. “I will call to speak with you tomorrow and explain everything—”
“No. I don’t want to hear. I will deal with this alone!”
Jamie winced at her shrill tone, and then the carriage slowed to a halt.
“Goodbye, Lord Stafford,” she said, her tone icy.
He beat her to the door and opened it. Stepping down, Jamie held out his hand. Alice looked at it as if it were a seven-headed serpent. He waited, and finally she placed her fingers on his, and he helped her from the carriage.
“Good evening, Alice. I will call upon you tomorrow, and we will discuss my findings.”
“Lady Alice, and I will not allow you entry.” She then raised her chin and walked away from him, and he let her, watching the rigid line of her back until she reached the front door of her townhouse. It opened, and then she was gone from his sight.
Jamie should have told her about the Crimson Serpent. Every instinct said she deserved the truth, yet he’d convinced himself that a few weeks of silence would make no difference. He’d needed time to dig deeper, to be certain. At least, that’s what he told himself.
He’d spent years putting his own safety above all else. After Blackwood Hall, he’d learned to protect what was left of him, never letting anyone close enough to wound him again. His friends were the exception, and even they only glimpsed pieces of him.
But as he stood in the chill night air, staring at the place where she’d vanished, a truth settled heavy in his chest. Lady Alice could reach him in ways no one else ever had. And if he wasn’t careful, she’d be the one to undo him entirely.
“Do you wish for me to drive you home, my lord?”
“No, thank you, Ezra, I shall walk.”
The man nodded, and the carriage rolled away.
After a last look at the Smythe townhouse, he headed toward his own. He had to find a way to get her to understand before she did something reckless. It was just pure luck she hadn’t so far.
