Page 84 of His Improper Lady

That had been Desiree’s answer this afternoon. Tom wasn’t sure what she’d meant. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he had meant. Stay with me always? This afternoon? Weeks or months or years?

Standing here now, leaning against the wall of the casino and watching Desiree at work, he thought about this afternoon. What they’d said. What they’d done. Remembering the slow, languorous hours they had lain in his bed, kissing, talking, making love again, stirred up the embers of those flames.

That kind of thinking was asking for trouble. A few minutes of that, and he was hard as a rock, not really presentable, especially in a casino owned by Desiree’s brother.

But thinking about what they’d said was perhaps even more dangerous. For a man who’d been steadily building a life for himself, laying a foundation for what he could become, the whirlwind of the present was a disturbing burst of pleasure and excitement, as alluring as it was exotic and just as likely to vanish as a morning fog in the sunny glare of daytime.

Desiree stirred him in more ways than he had ever imagined possible. She made him want to leap without looking, without even pausing to glance at what lay beneath or beyond. Caution had never been a hallmark of his character; he’d had to train himself to be steady, to work and plan instead of jumping at any momentarily appealing thing that came along.

It had taken him several years to accept that the Morelands weren’t going to abandon him. It had taken even longer to realize that he could build some sort of structure that, however rickety, would support him in some semblance of the stability that other people, people with families and backgrounds of honor and honesty, possessed.

Yet here Desiree was: a thief like him, raised like him, possessing similar instincts and thoughts. Tempting. Enthralling. Offering him a dazzling prospect of joy. And he wanted to take that leap. God, he wanted to take it. Wanted it so much it scared him.

Desiree looked up from her cards, and her eyes went to Tom. A sensual smile curved her lips, setting Tom’s pulse pounding. He took out his watch and opened it. Another hour before the time she usually stopped playing. But as he watched, Desiree stood up, smiling at the other players and talking to them for a moment before she turned and walked toward him.

She was leaving early. Desiree’s thoughts were clearly running along the same lines as his. He’d suspected that from the moment she’d dismissed Merriwell this evening, telling the driver that she and Tom would catch a hackney home. The knowledge that Desiree was as eager as he to be together again had kept his blood thrumming with fire the past two hours.

Desiree took his arm and they strolled out of the club. With a word of farewell to the guards at the door, they started down the shallow steps to the street below. Desiree paused and glanced around.

“What is it?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve just been on edge all evening. It’s been harder to focus. But I think it’s just...you know.” Her eyes went to his mouth. “Us.”

“I know.” Heat pulsed in him at her words. But he tore his eyes away from her and looked carefully up and down the street. He couldn’t allow his hunger to distract him from Desiree’s safety.

A hack pulled away from the line of carriages and rolled to a stop in front of them. With a last glance around, Tom gave Desiree a hand up into the vehicle and climbed in himself, telling the driver his address. They started off at a fast pace.

Desiree turned to Tom and was immediately in his arms. They kissed as if they had been separated for weeks rather than a few hours. The temptation of watching Desiree all evening had built into a white-hot hunger.

Suddenly Desiree pulled from him. Her hand went to her chest. “Tom...”

“What is it?” His passion was shoved aside by alarm. “Danger?”

“I feel...uneasy. It’s sharp.”

“The way you felt before Falk’s man took that box from us?”

“Yes.” She slid away from him, her gaze going to the window as Tom did the same thing on the other side of the coach.

Tom let out a curse. “This isn’t the way to my flat. Where the devil are we?” The street they were on was narrow and dark, with few streetlamps. The buildings were unfamiliar, overhangs creating deep shadows on the street below.

“The East End, I imagine,” Desiree said as their vehicle rumbled onto cobblestones, the ride suddenly jarring.

“Stop!” Tom called to the driver, lunging forward to pound on the window between them.

There was no answer except for the hackney speeding up. The carriage was racketing along now, far too fast for the dark street. Trying to jump out would be sheer folly. They were bounced about and had to brace themselves against the walls and floor to keep from sliding off the seat.

“Damn!” Tom muttered. “I should have been paying attention.”

“We were distracted,” Desiree said wryly. “No point in berating yourself about it now. We’re going to have to run, aren’t we?”

“Yes. As soon as we stop.”

“And I have on this blasted dress.” To Tom’s surprise, she turned her back to him. “Unbutton me.”

His eyebrows went up, but he started doing as she said. “Desiree, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting rid of my corset,” she replied.