'Hugh, I will…' She kissed him fiercely when her orgasm began, giving a wild cry against his lips. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her wet little sheath clenched around his finger, again and again. His cock grew slick at the tip in anticipation of that tight heat.
When she sagged against his shoulder, he moved his hands from her sex to cupping her bottom. Once they'd reached Ros Creag, he kept her in the same position with her legs locked around his waist, even as he dismounted and tossed the reins in the vicinity of the tethering post.
By the time he'd bolted the front door behind them, she'd gone from resting her forehead on his shoulder to kissing him, clutching his arms, her hand colliding with his as they grasped each other.
Desperate to bury himself inside her, he hastened toward his bed, bounding up the stairs two at a time, breathing hard against her damp neck. Inside his room, he laid her back on the bed, then shrugged from his jacket and pistol holster, tossing them both aside. After he'd yanked his shirt over his head, she reached her arms up to him.
He had one knee in the mattress to go to her. After wanting her for so long—
Hugh froze.
Outside, the gate to the terrace creaked on its hinges.
Hugh's head whipped up, his dark eyes flickering over her face. He bolted to his pistol.
'Hugh? What's happening?' She felt so dazed from her recent pleasure that she could barely form words.
'Stay there,' he snapped, striding to the windows, yanking the heavy curtains closed. 'Doona move, especially not in front of the windows.'
'I-is Grey out there?'
'It could be nothing.' Hugh cautiously peered out one side of the drawn curtains.
'I thought he hadn't reached England yet.'
'I doona want to take any chances.'
She was startled by the idea of Grey being just outside, but she wasn't afraid. She was too reassured by Hugh's presence. 'Should I have my bow?'
'No, lass, you doona need your bow.'
'How long will you stay there?'
'Till dawn,' he answered.
'What? Why don't you come to bed? You bolted the doors—he can't get in.'
'If he's out there, I might catch sight of him.'
She asked slowly, 'And what would you do if you found him?'
His voice was quiet, cold. 'Kill him.'
'But he was your friend,' Jane said. 'I always believed we were more or less absconding, not, er… executing.'
'He's killed before.'
'No, you're not serious….' She trailed off when he caught her gaze, his eyes locked on hers.
'Men. And women.'
'Why? What's made him do that?'
'I've told you, his mind is damaged. His affliction is worse than it's ever been.'
Her eyes went wide. 'Is he like Burke and Hare, or Springheeled Jack?' she asked in a breathless voice. 'One of those compulsion killers that I've read about in theTimes ?'
'I'm sure he has much in common with them.'
'Why didn't you tell me?'
'I didn't want to frighten you needlessly,' he said, then added in a distracted tone, 'And I never thought he would even get close to us.'
'If you knew he was such a horrible killer, why did you agree to this? You could be risking your life.'
He said nothing.
'Hugh, you wouldn't, um, risk your life for mine?'
'What kind of question is that?'
She made a sound of frustration. 'Oh, just answer me, won't you?'
His body seemed to tense, and after an obvious struggle, he gritted through his teeth, 'Aye.'
'T-truly?' Her voice went higher.
'Just try to get some sleep.'
As if that was going to happen. After a few long moments, she asked, 'How does he kill them?'
'With a blade.'
The blood drained from her face, leaving it cool. 'Grey…stabsthem? Even women? Would he do that tome ?'
Hugh hesitated. 'I doona know that telling you—'
'I have to know, Hugh,' she interrupted sharply. 'I need to know what he plans.'
Hugh's gaze flickered over her face. Finally he said, 'He slits their throats—'
A violent pounding on the door boomed through the silent home.
Chapter Thirty
Jane jerked with fright, then whispered, 'Who in the devil would be knocking?'
'Ethan.' Hugh relaxed a fraction, stowing his gun in his pants waist.It has to be . 'My brother is supposed to meet us here. Jane, lock the door behind me, and doona come out until I return.'
When she followed him to the door, he strode from the room, pausing outside only long enough to hear the lock click into place.
His brother's timing was as impeccable as ever—just when Hugh had decided to take Jane, just when he hadn't had a doubt in his mind that he would…
Hugh hurried down the stairs, then crossed to a front window. When he glanced past the curtain, unease crept up his spine. It was one of Weyland's messengers—not his brother.
In that instant, he realized something had happened to Ethan. Hugh yanked open the door and snatched the missive from the grim man. 'Do you know anything about my brother?' Hugh asked, though it was unlikely since most messengers weren't privy to important information.
The man shook his head, then turned away directly to set off and confirm that the missive had been received.
Locking the door again, Hugh ripped open the letter and read the one line. Disbelieving what it said, he crumpled the paper in his fist, then turned and charged up the stairs.
As soon as Jane opened the door to him, he shouted orders. 'Pack your smallest bag with clothes, essentials only. You can take your bow but no' thirty bloody books. We leave in ten minutes.'
'What's happened?'
'Grey's in England. Has been for days.' If Grey could control the Network like this, deceiving and manipulating so many in the field, then his addiction wasn't impairing him mentally as they'd suspected. It seemed the man had lost nothing, and wasplaying with them. 'He could have followed us directly here.'
Hugh had been so intent on getting into Jane's skirts, he hadn't been concentrating on protecting her from a man whose entire life centered on killing.
Grey could attack in so many insidious ways. He could poison the well, or burn the house with a mixture of turpentine and alcohol, then pick off anyone who escaped. Toward the end, burning had become a particular favorite of his.
Swooping together piles of clothes, she said, 'How do you know he's in England?' She must have sensed that he was about to hedge his answer, because she snapped, 'This is no time to be secretive! I'm in the middle of this, too!'
Hugh ran his hand over his face. 'He killed Lysette.'
