would be entirely inappropriate for me to take advantage of a woman who is in my employ.'
'Yes, sir.' Grant paused before asking with a straight face, 'So...how was it?' He grinned as Ross sent him a warning look.
To Ross's disgruntlement, Morgan's comment about the pile on his desk was an understatement. Reports, files, correspondence, and assorted documents formed a precarious mountain. He sighed heavily as he entered his office. Not long ago he would have thought nothing of such a pile. Now it seemed ridiculous for one man to handle so much. A year earlier, he had accepted commissions to serve as the justice for Essex, Kent, Hertfordshire, and Surrey, in addition to the responsibilities he already had for Westminster and Middlesex. It had made him the most powerful magistrate in England, and he had taken satisfaction in the increasing reach of his authority. Until now. Now he wanted to ease back from the relentless flood of responsibility and have a private life. He wanted a wife, a home...even children someday.
He did not know any man who would willingly assume his post at Bow Street, not even Grant. Although Morgan was ambitious and dedicated, he would never allow his profession to take precedence over his marriage. Ross would simply have to obtain help in the administration of the Bow Street office, since it was too much for one man to handle. At the very least, he would have to fill his commission with three more justices, and hire a half- dozen additional runners. Moreover, it would be necessary to open two or three additional magisterial offices in Westminster. Picturing the receptionthat would get in Parliament, along with the accompanying requests for financial grants, Ross smiled darkly.
His smile faded as he rummaged through his desk for the key to the criminal records room. Locating it, he went down the hall and unlocked the door, then entered and set a lamp on a table. The room smelled of dust and vellum, tiny motes floating lazily through the lamplight. After a brief search, Ross found the drawer most likely to contain the file for John Sydney. Filled with equal parts of dread and resolution, he paged through sheaves of documents, but he could find nothing pertaining to the case of a pickpocket named Sydney.
Closing the drawer, Ross considered the row of cabinets thoughtfully. Apparently Sydney's case had been too insignificant to warrant an entire file. However, the boy must have been mentioned in the court records. A frown settled between Ross's brows as he turned toward another cabinet and opened it decisively.
A quiet voice interrupted his search. 'I've already looked there.'
He glanced at the doorway and saw Sophia's slender figure. She came forward, the light playing on her exquisite features. A melancholy smile curved her lips. 'I have searched through every drawer and file in this room,' she murmured. 'There is no mention of John.'
Guilt and concern assailed him, but Ross kept his face impassive while he considered the problem. 'The court records dated before the past ten years have been moved to a storage room on the top floor. I will go find them now.'
'Later,' Sophia said gently. 'You can ask Mr. Vickery to locate them tomorrow.'
Understanding that she was no more eager than he to find the information, Ross approached her and hooked an arm around her waist. She yielded at once as he brought her hips against his. He lowered his mouth to her throat and searched with his tongue until he felt the throb of her pulse. 'And in the meantime?' he asked, urging her into the rock-hard shape of his erection.
She circled her arms around his neck and rubbed her lips over his in the barest promise of a kiss. 'In the meantime, I am going to keep you very busy.'
'My room or yours?' he asked.
Sophia gave a breathless laugh as she remembered the last time he had asked her that question, right there in his office. 'Which would you prefer?'
Lowering his mouth to her ear, he whispered, 'My bed is bigger.'
Brilliant sunlight streamed into the room, for they had forgotten to close the curtains the previous evening. Still half asleep, Sophia reflected that the sun must be very strong to cut through the haze of coal smoke that hovered over the city.
There was movement beside her, and she rolled onto her side, pushing up on one elbow. Ross stretched lazily as he awakened, tangled black lashes lifting to reveal drowsy gray eyes. He was so handsome with his hair disheveled and his face still sleep-flushed that Sophia nearly caught her breath.
Ross had been insatiable during the night. He had touched, kissed, and tasted every inch of her body, his hands gentle, his mouth insistent. The intimate memories filled her with wonder, and she felt her face turning pink. Moving experimentally, she discovered that the muscles on the inner sides of her thighs were sore, as well as her shoulders and the back of her neck.
Seeing her slight grimace, Ross sat up and leaned over her, a frown crossing his forehead. 'Did I hurt you last night?'
She laid her hands on his forearms, stroking the hair-roughened surface of his skin. 'It's nothing that a hot bath won't cure.'
No one would have recognized the reserved, authoritative Bow Street magistrate if he had been seen gazing at her with such tenderness. 'You are beautiful in the sunlight,' he said huskily.
Sophia's smile was immediately extinguished as she awakened fully and saw how the daylight reflected incandescently off the snowy bed linens. A chill of anxiety settled over her. 'We've slept late,' she said in dawning horror. 'I can't believe it. Both of us are always awake before everyone else, at the break of dawn, and now...My God, it's practically midday!'
She reared upward in panic, and he pressed her back down to the mattress. 'Hold still,' he murmured. 'Take a deep breath.'
'Everyone is awake,' she said, staring at him with wide eyes. 'It is well past breakfast time. Oh, Lord, I have never slept late before!'
'Neither have I.'
'Well, what are we to do?'
'I suppose we could get out of bed and put our clothes on.' He didn't sound particularly enthralled by the idea.
Sophia moaned in increasing misery. 'The servants, clerks, constables, and runners--they all know that we are together in your room.' Snatching at a corner of the sheet, she pulled it over her face, wishing she could hide forever. 'They know what we've been doing. Oh, don't you dare laugh!'
Ross did his best to oblige her, but his eyes were bright with amusement. 'Unfortunately, we have ruined the opportunity for discretion. The only thing left to do is go about our work as usual.'
'I can't,' Sophia said, her voice muffled. 'The thought of facing everyone...'
The sheet was inexorably pulled away, although Ross had to forcibly uncurl her fingers from the handfuls of white linen. 'You don't have to face anyone,' he told her. 'We'll just stay here all day.'
She frowned up at him. 'I wish you would be serious!'
A chuckle stirred in his throat. 'Iam serious,' he told her, and she wriggled impatiently beneath him.
'Ross, we must rise now!'
'I've already risen,' he assured her, bringing her hand to the turgid length of his erection.
She gasped and jerked her fingers away. 'If you think I'm going to dothat with you now, inbroad daylight , while everyone knows we're up here--'
He gave a suggestive laugh and spread her beneath him.
'Do be quiet!' Sophia whispered sharply, managing to flip over and crawl to the edge of the bed. 'Someone will hear--oh!' She gasped as she felt the playful nip of his teeth on her right buttock.
Catching her by the waist, Ross dragged her backward and began to kiss the naked length of her spine, starting at the small of her back and working his way upward.
'I am sore,' she protested, although a ripple of pleasure went through her body when he nibbled at a sensitive place beneath her shoulder blades.
Levering himself higher, he whispered at the nape of her neck, 'I'll be gentle. Just once more, Sophia.'
The feel of his mouth made her shiver weakly. 'I...I hope this isn't usual for you. Three times last night, and again this morning...it won't be like this all the time, will it?'
'No.' He pushed a pillow beneath her hips to angle them higher. 'I've just been deprived for a while. Eventually I'll have my fill, and slow down to once a night.'
'How long is 'eventually'?' she asked, and he laughed softly.
