She was an equal.
Which made him wince. He hadn’t exactly treated her as such when he’d faked his own death and took to the investigation on his own. But then again, he was the trained spy, he was the one who was being attacked, and he was the dispensable one of their pairing. If anything happened to her…
But she did not agree and now they were living with the consequences of his choices.
“You’re right. We should go.”
“Of course I’m right,” she said as she made her way to the waiting hack. He watched the swish of her hips. The ache that had been building for days pulsed through him with such force, it nearly made him groan aloud.
He wanted her so much. His mind could hardly focus on anything else. Which was a problem when completing an investigation where their lives hung in the balance.
She opened the door to the hack and lifted her skirts to climb in, exposing her slender ankle to the moonlight in the process.
His cock swelled in his breeches and he gritted his teeth. Leave it to Rebecca to send him to the point of insanity with a view of her ankle. The woman was driving him past the point of reason.
She settled into the seat and he slid in next to her, wrapping his arm about her shoulders as they pressed together.
“I checked the records for the warehouse,” he said as he leaned close.
“Oh. Good thinking,” she said, her eyes sliding closed. Was she as affected by their proximity as he was?
He hoped so. “A compliment? Thank you.”
She turned to look at him as he stared down at her, her eyes pleading. What did she silently ask for? Did she need release as much as he did? Is that what she asked for?
“To whom does the warehouse belong?”
“The Earl of Shipley.”
“Shipley?” she asked with a gasp. “How odd.”
“Why is that odd?”
She shook her head. “He has a large party every other month but is rarely seen at them. He’s a bit of an enigma, actually.”
“And one of the former owners of the Indian Trading Company,” Bennet added. Rebecca had been right to send him in for that slip. Her instincts were spot on. The man was clearly connected to the stolen goods if the smugglers used his warehouse.
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Do you think he’s the man you’ve been looking for?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “For all I know, he’s just getting a shipment of smuggled champagne for his next soirée and someone else is at the helm of all this.”
“Have you watched the former owners?”
“Yes,” he growled out in frustration. “For the entire first year. But none of them ever connect themselves to the smugglers. They’re nothing if not careful.”
“The money has to be the answer,” she said with a nod.
“I hope you’re right,” he replied as they made their way into the west end of the city. He’d have the hack drop them several blocks from Hammond Street and then they’d walk the rest of the way.
“Me too,” she answered with a sigh.
He looked at Rebecca, his mouth tightening. What if the money wasn’t the answer? He’d spent years researching this case without luck. He was a dead man, a man no one even knew existed.
But that was not the case with Rebecca. She was a known lady with a job that had her featured in the papers daily.
She could not poke around without being noticed. Not for long.
“Rebecca,” he said, turning toward her. “We should discuss what happens if we don’t come up with answers.”