She trembled and buried her face in his coat.
He raised her chin with a finger and brought his mouth down on hers, a hard, demanding kiss, his breath quickening to match hers. Her hand went to his nape, her fingers sliding into his soft, thick hair.
When his tongue pushed at the seam of her mouth, she opened for him and moaned. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen had his arms not held her. Her body pulsed with a desperate need to be with him. Wholly and completely. Overwhelmed, she pushed away from him. She shook her head. “No, Redcliffe.”
Not like this. They could be close to discovering the truth. She owed it to her father. Then she must leave.She turned away from him to the top of the steps, her heart still thudding, unsure of her footing.
He came to hold her arm, which only unsettled her more as he assisted her down. “We’re not finished with this, Olivia. Don’t think we are.”
“Redcliffe…don’t, please.” She swallowed and pulled away from him.
He let her go as they crossed the lawn. “I intend to look into Pike’s activities. You were right to question the man.”
He took hold of her elbow, stirring her senses, as they climbed the slight incline. She could manage, but she didn’t dissuade him. She was greedy for his touch.
“I was going to search the stables and the storage sheds for anything Pike might have ordered.” She glanced up at him, trying to steady her voice. “What if he falsified the records and pocketed the money?”
“Hard to prove after such a long time. But I agree, Pike grows more interesting by the minute. And Mrs. Hobbs, who was seen with him in the garden.”
“I don’t trust her. Shall I replace her?”
“Not yet. She may prove useful.”
He stopped. Turning toward her, he reached up and gently tucked an errant wisp of hair behind her ear. Her breath stilled. “Olivia, when all this business is at an end, we must talk. I want you in my life.”
She shook her head. “We have to stop this.”
She broke free of him and hurried along the path.
They startled a groundsman, who removed his hat and bowed.
Whatever course Redcliffe was so determined to take, it could not have a happy outcome, because none was possible. If they found the truth of what had happened here, and she grew more hopeful now that they would, she must leave before they had that talk. Because her future lay beyond the gates of Redcliffe Hall, and she no longer had the strength to refuse anything he asked of her.
Chapter Eighteen
In the library,Dominic stood before the painting of his father as a lad, hanging on the far wall. He saw something of himself in his father’s stubborn stance and the impatient way he held the reins of his pony. As if to say, I’d rather ride than endure this nonsense. It made him marvel at his own self-control when he was with Olivia in the summerhouse. Her soft lips when she moaned against his mouth, he almost lost control. And would have if she hadn’t drawn back.
Impatient to make her his, he would first have to deal with what worried her most. With Samuels’s help, he might do it.
The cook entered wearing a clean shirt, having discarded his apron. He still looked tough and disreputable. It might be his long hair held back in the queue, but Dominic imagined it went deeper, to the very core of the man. He had a right to be angry about the injustice he’d suffered, but it hadn’t weakened him or made him fall by the wayside.
Dominic abandoned his desk for the sofa. “Sit down, Samuels.”
Seated on an armchair, the cook waited for him to speak. Dominic estimated Samuels to be about forty, but his eyes looked a good deal older than his years.
“I’m told you’ve been in prison.” Dominic held up a hand as Samuels, startled, seized the arms of the chair. “Mr. Williams dug into your past. My discovering it earlier would not have changed my mind about hiring you. You are an excellent cook, Samuels. Untrained, but with a natural talent.”
Relieved, Samuels relaxed back against the squab. “I’m very fortunate to work here, milord. I’m extending my range with some fancy dishes.”
Dominic nodded, impatient to get to the point. “When I entertain, you’ll have a sous-chef to assist you.” He ran a hand along his jaw, choosing his words carefully. “In the meantime, I require help from someone of your experience.” He smiled. “And skills, hopefully.”
Samuels’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not sure what you refer to, milord. There’s not much more to me than what you see.”
“You survived in Newgate for some years, surrounded by murderers and robbers. No mean feat.”
Samuels slowly nodded.
“It can’t have been easy.”
