“Soaking.” Heavens, she could hear every moist movement.
He used his knee to nudge her legs wider apart. “Does it not ease as you move deeper into the sea?” He pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “I’m deep now, love. So deep, I’d give anything to be inside you, pumping so damn hard we’d come together.”
She could feel the inner coil tightening, the tension building within. “I want you,” she whispered when his gaze locked with hers.
“Enjoy the journey. Soon, you’ll be basking in all the pleasures of Egypt. I’m told it’s so hot one can barely breathe.” He lowered his voice as he brought her to a climax, the sudden clenching in her core leaving her knees weak. “We’ll continue this ride tomorrow.”
He said nothing more but claimed her mouth to smother every sensual cry. And for the first time in her life, Isabella knew exactly where she would be in the morning.
ChapterTwelve
The Servants’ Registry
Stanhope Street
“Should we pretend we’re married or tell Mr Winthrop why we’re really here?” Isabella worried her bottom lip. “I think we should show him the letter from the Home Secretary or he’s unlikely to reveal a servant’s private details.”
“Hmm.” Since their interlude last night, Christian could not stop staring at her mouth. He had never seen lips so naturally red. Might the colour be claret or deep rose? They were as intoxicating as wine. Certainly as soft as flower petals. And they tasted like—
“Christian, you’re not listening.” She gripped his arm and guided him from the agency’s front door to the entrance of the adjacent alley. “What’s wrong? You’ve been preoccupied since we left Fortune’s Den.”
“Can a man not take time to think before deciding on the best course of action? We have a lot of leads to consider at present.”
How did he tell her what he was really thinking?
The urgency to bed her grew more intense by the hour. Lust with the right woman was more potent than laudanum. It went beyond a mere physical need. It played havoc with his mind, toyed with his emotions. It made him lower his guard and dream the impossible.
“Oh,” she said, placated. “I thought it had something to do with Delphine’s comment at breakfast this morning.”
He’s never looked at a woman the way he looks at you.
I sense there’s more to it than meets the eye.
It had left them both shifting uncomfortably in their seats, quick to lie and confirm they were merely friends and associates, not lovers who could not keep their hands off each other.
But despite everything, that’s not what bothered him.
He needed to stop wanting a woman who was one ticket away from leaving. Had he learned nothing about survival and self-preservation?
“Delphine is hoping one of us will break the bonds of brotherhood. It would give her an excuse to follow her own heart and—” He stopped abruptly, unable to finish the sentence.
What if Delphine had a better life awaiting her elsewhere?
What if she left and never came back?
It would kill Aaron.
It would kill them all.
“Delphine wants to find her family?” Isabella said, drawing the obvious conclusion.
“Yes, though she’s not as strong as she appears.” The same might be said for them all. “The truth might enslave her, not set her free.”
Isabella laid her hand on his arm, the simple touch firing his blood. “Or you might lose her, and I doubt any of you could cope with that.”
This woman could read his mind, access his thoughts.
Did she see he wore two masks?
