Melody wasn’t sure what she was doing. Or rather, she wasn’t sure what she was doing was wise. In fact, it was possibly the most reckless thing she’d done since she’d allowed Alessandro to lead her into a dark secluded corner of a garden at one of the balls she’d attended in Naples. His kisses had been impassioned. They’d filled her with the kind of need that both terrified her and left her wanting.
This, however, was something else entirely.
It was slow and sensual, the culmination of several months’ worth of longing. She’d thought she’d gotten over him but she was wrong. This proved it. Edward had stripped her bare with this kiss — he’d asked for a silent confession and she could do nothing but tell him the truth.
Yes. This is what I want. This is what I need. You.
He was her entire world in that moment, her only focus for what could have lasted anywhere from a split second to several minutes. She’d no idea, but she knew when he gently released her, when she saw the fire in his gaze, that these last moments changed everything between them.
“I need to go.” She had to think. Her situation, his rank, the people coming toward them now from the opposite end of the street. Heart racing, she stepped back. How could she have allowed this to happen? A relationship between them would never work.
“Melody?” Concern dimmed the heat from before.
Her mouth had gone dry and her brain felt numb as she backed away even farther. “I won’t be your mistress.”
It was all she could think to say before she spun on her heels and hurried from him as fast as she could. Through the rain and back to the safety awaiting her at Number 2 Portman Square.
She heard him call her name, but then she was at the door and escaping into the house where she worked. Her trembling fingers found the ribbon that held her wet bonnet in place. She untied it while she climbed the stairs, grateful to make it all the way into her room without anyone noting she had returned.
Best of all, she managed to close the door and lock it before she burst into tears.
23
Elbows propped on the desk, head in hands, Peter Kendrick stared at the papers spread out before him. Notes and sketches, all pertaining to the two murders. He’d reviewed them several times without finding the clue he sought. A mistake the killer must surely have made — something that would lead Peter in the correct direction.
The details were starting to become a jumbled mess in his head. He couldn’t focus. Least of all when there was also the matter of Mr. Croft’s missing wife. Two murders and one abduction, with no sign of an impending arrest.
The last time he’d felt this useless was when he’d hunted the Mayfair Murderer. Too many women had died at Clive Newton’s hands before the man had met the end he deserved. Thanks to Croft, not Peter.
He blew out a heavy breath and unrolled the long piece of parchment Miss Hastings had prepared yesterday. A timeline of the events connected to the killings, along with any pertinent details. Approximately two weeks had elapsed between the two cases. The first murder had taken place in a closed carriage, but the second would have required more careful planning. As well as access.
It couldn’t have been done by simply anyone.
Perplexed, he reached for his cup, only to find it empty. Additional coffee would be required if he was to keep doing his job. He’d not been home since Jackson called him from his bed yesterday morning. A couple of hours of sleep in this very chair was what kept him from total collapse.
With a yawn, he pushed to his feet and collected his cup. Gabriella appeared in the doorway before he had time to get out from behind the desk.
She titled her head. “You look like hell.”
“I feel like it too.”
“Why don’t you go get some rest?”
“Because there’s too much to do.”
“None of which will be done effectively when you can barely keep your eyes open.” She huffed a breath and pushed her spectacles back into place. “The answers you seek are probably eluding you because your brain has slowed to a crawl.”
For some peculiar reason, the image this evoked made him smile. The smile she offered in return caused his chest to expand with warmth. “I’m sorry I’ve not yet responded to your proposal.”
Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. She crossed her arms, raised her chin a smidgeon, as though attempting to look nonplussed. “You’ve been busy. All things considered, I didn’t expect to discuss it with you until both of the cases you’re working have been resolved.”
“I did review it,” he confessed, “but I’m going to have to make a few amendments before I sign it.”
If they were going to do this properly, both their needs would have to be met.
She gave him a funny look, her lips quirking a little. “Oh?”
“How we proceed will likely depend on whether or not you agree to my terms as well. There’s room for compromise, so we can go back and forth on a few of the points, but overall, I want to make sure there are no conflicting differences.”
