“You two are married?” Jimmy asked.
“No, he is not my husband. That was an unfortunate circumstance, and you are not to repeat any of this, Jimmy.” She looked to Lucas. “I’ll not hold you to the vows. No one need know anything about it. It’s forgotten. See—” she snapped her fingers in the air. “Just like that.”
Lucas gave Jimmy a warning that said,get lostas loud as if he’d roared the words, and then dragged her in a storefront alcove. He plastered her against the brick. “You forget we consummated the vows several times over as I recall with many fine remembrances.”
“How dare you. What if Jimmy were to hear? He’s an innocent.”
Lucas laughed. “Jimmy does not have one innocent bone in his body.”
Jimmy had helped her escape. She needed to defend Jimmy’s honor. She tried to push Lucas away. He wouldn’t budge.
Think,Rachel.She could not. Not when Lucas was near. Not when her senses whirled. A slow smile spread across his lips. It bore a strange note, hinting at a memory that somehow disturbed her more. Oh, she’d know the heat of his body, his warm lips upon hers, and his arms embracing her. There had been the touch of his hand on her breast, and a gentle caress along her thighs, and…the haunting sense of pleasure that now surged through her body. His manhood was hard against her thigh. She closed her eyes.Would she yield to him right here?
She swallowed and closed her eyes, longing for his touch. His fingers stroked from her chin to her jaw, testing the downy skin there. Oddly, she salivated, and was forced to swallow as a wash of foreign awareness poured over her like warm honey.
What spell did Lucas weave about her that she should desire again that divine happiness that left her blood pounding in her brain, leaping from her heart, and making her knees tremble?
“There is no escaping me.” His silken voice deepened to a husky velvet. A threat of inevitable seduction. A promise of possession.
She opened her eyes. All the feelings of loneliness and isolation heaved like a cruel, crushing wave. She wanted so much to finger the firm line of his jaw, to take his ruggedly handsome face into her hands. In the narrow space of time, a hot ache grew in her throat as she studied his cobalt-blue eyes, fury mixed with arrogance, and burning tenderness.
No! They were wrong for each other. She could not let this attraction…no lust, go any further. It was unfair to both of them. There remained the fact of his fiancée. Above all, Lucas had to be protected. A large conspiracy existed. She must have time to put the pieces together without her mind cluttered.
Distracted by a shout, the clank of harnesses and pounding of hooves, she looked up. A runaway team of horses ground down on them. Rachel shoved Lucas away.
“Simon!”
She lifted her skirts and ran toward the wagon. A youthful hand pulled her up and in. Simon’s usual sense of industry did not fail her. Jimmy sprinted and hurdled in the wagon and lay panting at her side.
She glanced back. Another wagon traversed the intersection blocking Lucas’ pursuit. The last thing she saw was a chilling rage crossing his face. But it was the words he mouthed that chilled her to the bone.
I know you’re the Saint.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“War is fighting battles, not prayer sessions and hymn singing,” said Lieutenant Bowman as they passed a group of women standing on wooden crates, righteously weary, yet singing and chanting their praises from divine avocation.
Lucas did not listen to his good friend. He’d left the Willard Hotel where out of frustration and a need for diversion he had dined with Lieutenants Bowman and Andrews. There was no particular destination as they walked past grazing cattle, leaving behind a slaughterhouse situated at the base of the unfinished Washington Monument where offal rotted three feet deep and clouds of buzzing flies swarmed. Along Pennsylvania Avenue, the air was better, yet dampness hung, and he pulled his greatcoat around him. From street stands, hawkers trumpeted cake and ginger pop.
“Where is she?” he muttered aloud.
“Pardon me?” said Bowman.
Lucas scrubbed a hand over his face, and then through his hair, tugging in frustration. “Nothing.” He had not slept for two days. He was tired, and he was in no mood for conversation. He had checked every hotel, every place he knew, everywhere. Still he did not find her.
Jimmy O’Hara.A vein pulsed in his jaw. It would be a very sorry day for the young Irishman who dared to tip his hat to Lucas as he rode off with Rachel. To think Jimmy was on the United States payroll and worked for Lucas.
Jimmy was a young hooligan who had grown up an orphan on the streets of New York, and then moved to Washington. Jimmy’s street-wise experience in the Irish underworld made him a treasured resource during the war years and to Lucas. Now, Jimmy had thrown in his lot with Rachel. Not that that didn’t surprise him. Every male, young or old, she had glued to her.
Jimmy was Lucas’ new strategy. The boy would lead Lucas to Rachel. Yet to catch Jimmy was like snaring fog in your palm.
“Are you going to marry her?” asked Bowman.
“What?” Lucas jerked his head around. Bowman smiled at him, and Lucas caught the jest.
“By the look on your face, it appears like you’ve been love-struck, harder than a double mule-kick,” said Andrews, to his left. He was a good-natured man. Was he the traitor?
“No. It’s a religious conflict,” Lucas lied and glanced behind them. A hint of a shadow crossed the street. Jimmy O’ Hara trailed them. Lucas bided his time. Trapping season was about to begin.
