“I think you’ve become too jaded from working with Bow Street all these years. You haven’t the capacity to see the good in people any longer.”
“Perhaps you’re right, but then, I’m not the one without an alibi for murder.” He hardened his response to her comment that hit a little too close to the truth. Could she help him to regain hope for humanity again?
“Neither is Lord Wainwright. I believe you’re investigating the wrong person.”
“I must follow every avenue, and so will you given time in a journalistic capacity, even if you don’t like the answers you find.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “Did he ever try to get you alone of an evening?” Chills twisted down his spine. If the lord was indeed the murderer, would he try the same tactics when Francesca, or kill her out of frustration when she wouldn’t offer herself up to him?
Over my dead body.
“Not yet.” She tightened her fingers on the strings of her reticule. “If you want more information about Lord Wainwright, find out by yourself. I’ll no longer betray trusts, Inspector.”
Ah, so that’s how it would be. For the space of a few heartbeats, he stared at her. Was her upset caused by the fact she might care for the viscount or from something else entirely? “No quid pro quo then? I would think that would hamper your own quest for the truth, and isn’t that what journalism is about?”
“Not like this,” she shot back with narrowed eyes and a tight mouth. “Not when you’re grouchy and growly, two steps away from becoming the storm of your namesake. Not when I can’t discern if your interest or contempt stems from professional integrity or personal jealousy. And not when I assumed we were working together on the same side.”
Damn, but she had a sharp mind. “Ah.” Somehow, she’d fallen into a snit with him because he’d chosen to work the case over spending time getting to know her. Well, fair enough. He could see how that would annoy. “Then perhaps a different tactic is needed.”
“Meaning?”
Quickly, he transferred locations to her bench, and when she sucked in a breath, he grinned. The furious blush on her pale cheeks gave life to her face and the emotions clouding the blue depths of her eyes beckoned him closer, driving him to discover all her secrets. She was quite pretty when in a temper. “Would you be willing to share after I did this?”
As she stared, he put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her head up until their gazes locked. Then, he lowered his lips to hers in an opening salvo. What would she do? He broke the connection but remained close, his lips a hairsbreadth from hers, waiting, watching, exchanging breath with this woman who wouldn’t be banished from his mind. When she lifted a hand and rested it against his chest, touched the pink tip of her tongue to the lips he’d just tasted, he took that for encouragement and permission.
Sliding his free hand about her waist, he kissed her again. This time her eyes shuddered closed, and he gave himself over to exploring the petal softness of her mouth, to learning the contours and shape of her lips, to exploring those two pieces of warm flesh and introducing himself to her, not as a business partner but as an interested suitor.
And she was every bit as intriguing as she’d been while at the crime scene.
When he pulled away, surprise ricocheted through his chest. He’d enjoyed that much more than he assumed he would. How was that possible? When he’d asked to pay his addresses to her days ago, he didn’t imagine anything serious would come of it, for he’d only wished to set his mother’s mind at ease. Yet with this kiss and the look of hooded amazement in her eyes as she stared at him, something had changed, and it tugged at him, urged him to do things he never imagined he could. Yes, he wished to win her away from Lord Wainwright, but for what purpose? Those motives were muddled at the moment, but he could form a theory.
Bloody hell.
He had to remain cautious, for becoming embroiled in an unwanted romance was not on his agenda right now. Yet here she was, so close he could see the rapid beat of her pulse at her neck and with her scent of apple blossoms chasing away the last vestiges of the stench of blood and guts from his nose. It was rather… intoxicating.
Well shit. I might want her for more than an assistant at crime scenes or to help further her career as a journalist.
Francesca uttered a shaky laugh as he put space between them on the bench. “Perhaps I can make arrangements to gather more information for you regarding Lord Wainwright after all. Especially if you intend to reward me with more of the same.”
“Good.” Despite wishing to remain neutral, a damned grin sneaked its way across his face. She was a rather endearing companion, and he was in danger of making an idiot of himself after one chaste kiss. “I shall call upon you soon and discuss… things. In the meanwhile, we’ll visit a chocolate house and indulge in a repast.” Then he frowned. “That is, if your stomach is willing.”
She nodded. “I’m quite well, now.” No trace of a reaction to the kiss lingered in her expression. Had he imagined it? Was she so experienced with other men that it meant nothing coming from him? “Perhaps we can brainstorm about our two cases and how they might be further connected.”
Our.She’d used the word “our” to refer to his work. How… lovely. “What?” The change in subject confused him. He shook his head to clear it.
“The cases, Inspector.” Her giggle sent blood rushing to a portion of his anatomy that needn’t be awakened at present.
“Right.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. If that’s what she wished to focus on, so be it. Perhaps asking to court her had been a mistake, for he was rapidly in danger of forgetting everything important. “I look forward to such a discussion.” With a reminder to himself that he needed to focus the whole of his attention on his cases, he blew out a breath and turned to look out the window.
How had life suddenly become so complicated, so quickly?