“Acknowledge it?”
She shot him an angry glance as he drew near. “Acknowledge what? And how?”
He halted just inside the doorway. The room was more of a small alcove; it had only one door, the one at his back. Returning his gaze to her face, he replied, “Acknowledge that you transformed into a veritable houri, and that you enjoyed every minute of what I did to you.”
“A
“Trust me, I know a houri when I have her beneath me.”
She nearly choked. “What about
“You want me to acknowledge that?”
“Why not? If you want me to do the same?”
He studied her for an instant, then nodded. “Very well.”
She frowned. “Very well what?”
He reached back and closed the little room’s door.
Her eyes flared wide. “What are you doing?”
He caught her arms, stepped back so his shoulders were against the door, then yanked her to him. Met her eyes as he lowered his head. “I’m doing as you asked-acknowledging how much I enjoyed being inside you.”
He kissed her-and every particle of pretense instantly fell away. Her lips parted beneath his, her mouth instantly yielded. Inviting, inciting; it was as if he’d waltzed them straight back into the fire that had burned so hotly through the night.
He had his answer, all but immediately. She had been pretending not to be affected; the discovery was balm to his primitive male soul.
Yet he couldn’t resist taking the kiss deeper, angling his head and taking more, demanding more. Filling his hands with the bounty of her curves, he lifted her against him, shifted his hips against her, felt her hands grip his head, felt her melt…
Hauling on his reins, he abruptly drew back, staggered that she’d been able to lure him so far so quickly, to so deeply snare him in her sensual web.
A houri, indeed.
Thank God she didn’t know how thoroughly he was smitten.
Deliah blinked dazedly up at him. Her lips throbbed, her skin felt heated. She wanted…
Then she remembered where they were. Feeling his hands gripping her bottom, she wriggled-caught her breath at the press of his erection.
Felt marginally better when he cursed through his teeth and set her down.
She was still horrified. “Don’t you
He arched one dark, infuriating brow. “Why not?” His lips lightly curved. “You liked it.”
“That’s not the point!” She felt flustered to her toes. The same toes that had been curling bare seconds before. Which
She felt like fanning herself, but it was the middle of winter-a muff wasn’t much use. Gritting her teeth, she tried to glare at him.
He merely smiled charmingly, stepped aside and opened the door. “Shall we go on?”
All she could do was elevate her chin and swan through the door back into the room they’d left.
Their watchers were still there; her reappearance interrupted a hasty conference, which abruptly ended.
Ignoring the two men, she led the way on.
They completed their circuit of the Egyptian gallery, then she insisted on looking through the Etruscan rooms as well, which gave her blood time to cool, but otherwise failed to advance their cause. Their watchers simply wouldn’t approach them.
Disappointed on that front, they quit the museum, only spotting Tony and Gervase as, a few minutes later, they followed them through the doors.
“Well,” she said, settling onto the seat in the hackney Del had hailed, “that gained us nothing.”
Sitting beside her, he smiled a knowing, self-satisfied, masculine smile.
She stiffened, waited, but he contented himself with looking out of the window as the hackney ferried them back to Grillon’s.
The smile, however, remained on his lips.
They returned to the hotel and repaired to the suite. Minutes later, Tony and Gervase joined them.
“Those two are still watching from down the street,” Gervase said. “They come, they go, but they don’t go far.”
“They have to be the Black Cobra’s hirelings.” Del grimaced. “Unfortunately, I can’t see any benefit in the direct approach. Like the others, they won’t know anything.”
“The best we can do is follow them this evening and hope to get a bead on the man to whom they report.” Tony turned as the door opened. “Ah-luncheon.”
They sat and ate. Deliah preserved a certain aloofness. Even she could hear the warning edge to her voice. Neither Tony nor Gervase could interpret it, but that didn’t matter-he who needed to hear the warning could.
From the look in his eyes when they met hers, Del heard her message loud and clear, but to her irritation he didn’t pay it any great heed. When, the meal concluded and their plans for the afternoon confirmed, he and she left the suite on their next foray-a visit to Hatchards, again shadowed by Tony and Gervase-in ushering her through the door, he let his hand linger at the back of her waist.
Rather than respond, she decided to ignore him. And the reactions he evoked. Nose in the air, she led the way to the stairs.
Hatchards bookshop wasn’t far. Remembering the image they wished to project, when they stepped out into Albemarle Street and Del offered his arm, she took it. Together they strolled down the street and into Piccadilly. The day had remained overcast, the heavy clouds a steel-gray; the brisk breeze carried the scent of snow, although none had yet fallen. She’d brought her umbrella just in case; getting drenched formed no part of her plans.
The bell over Hatchards’ door tinkled as Del opened the door. Deliah walked in; he followed at her heels. “Do you think they’ll come in here?” she murmured.
Pausing, they both took stock of the shop, tightly packed with bookshelves forming narrow corridors leading into the depths, with a goodly number of customers excusing themselves to each other as they passed up and down the aisles, searching the shelves.
“If I were them,” Del replied, “I’d stay outside and watch. There’s only one door for customers to use. But still, it’s worth a try-we might lure them in. Pick an aisle, and let’s disappear down it and see what happens.”
“Poets, I think.” She set off down the third aisle.
Despite the look he cast her, he followed.
“Did you ever read Byron?”
“No. Not my style.”
She cast him a glance over her shoulder. “You might be surprised. ‘Childe Harold’ was quite… adventurous.”
He merely looked at her.
She smiled and faced forward.
They spent some time loitering deep between the shelves, pretending a spurious interest in this or that, while he kept a weather eye on the others who drifted quietly up and down the aisles.
An assassin would have found the shop very much to his liking. It would have been quite easy to take someone intent on the books unawares. But Del was fast coming to the conclusion that those following them had been hired merely to watch, and nothing else.
Which worried him.
Where was the Black Cobra and his assassins? He couldn’t believe there weren’t more cultists in England, supporting their evil master. Aside from all else, their evil master was far too canny not to have brought as many men as he could with him. And he’d had days, if not weeks, to build up his troops.
His mind absorbed with speculation, his eyes scanning their surrounds, he didn’t see the danger directly before
