DangerbyDalliance (11 page)

Sarah nodded and increased her grip on Warren’s balls just a
little bit more. He was on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain, that
fine line that drove him crazy.

With care she released his testicles, which had pulled up
high against his body. He was so close her breathing on him could break him.

She didn’t breathe on him, but clasped the base of his cock
in a firm grip and wrapped her extra-lubricated hand around the second half.
For a moment she studied him.

He tried to give her an encouraging smile, but he was too
close. She bit her lip and moved her hand.

Fast. Hard. The lubricant squishing with the speed of her
hand. Sweat trickled down the side of his face and across his chest. He
couldn’t look away from Sarah. Her eyes had grown glassy, her breathing uneven
and she was completely and utterly focused on his rod. He had the feeling an
engine could have caught fire beside her and she wouldn’t notice.

And neither would he.

Archer moved beside him and smiled. Warren squinted at his
lover to see what he would do next.

He didn’t move.

Warren’s attention shot back to Sarah. The constant friction
of her hand thrust him to the edge. “Sweet, let go.”

She shook her head and instead increased her speed.

All his control crumbled like a faulty brick wall. “Lord,
sweet!” His growl echoed through the studio as his cock pulsed, covering her
hand and wrist with jets of his come. His knees weakened and his head went
light. Archer stepped close and held him upright.

Warren panted, aftershocks of pleasure zinging through his
body. Sarah had not released him, but continued to caress him. Her hand was
soft and gentle, extending his pleasure.

“That was…interesting.” With one last touch she let go of
him.

Warren met Archer’s gaze. The two of them burst into
laughter. He tugged her between them, his hand cupping her shoulder. “From my
point of view this mind-blowing encounter was far more than interesting.”

She smiled and snuggled between them, resting her head
against his shoulder and clasping Archer’s hand in hers. Archer lifted it and
kissed her knuckles. “Does it live up to your expectations after reading your
famous books?”

She chuckled. “They were not my books. The father of a
friend of mine had an eclectic collection in his library. We snuck in whenever
he was away and studied what we could.” Her smile died and sadness darkened her
expression.

Warren kissed her forehead. “What is it, sweet?”

She sagged against him. “Most of our lives Beatrice and I
have been inseparable, but now—”

“Now what?” Archer asked.

“I did something that hurt her.” Sarah remained silent for a
moment. “She had to do something incredibly brave to save herself from a
marriage that would have destroyed her. It ruined her reputation. I had to deny
her my support or be brushed with the same feather.” She blinked. “I chose my
father and my reputation over my best friend.”

Warren caressed her jawline. “If you’ve been friends for
this long she will forgive you once you apologize and explain.”

She stared at nothing, rubbing her lips. “I hope so.” She
straightened and the polite smile appeared on her face. “I need to get going.”

Warren held her closer for a moment, but then released her.
They had made headway and established trust. He smiled at her. “And I need to
get dressed.” He pointed to the small bathroom.

She laughed and rubbed her palms over his chest. “Not on my
account.” With a quick kiss to his chest and a caress of Archer’s biceps she
stepped away, cleaned up and walked behind the screen.

Archer came to stand beside him. He kissed his shoulder
before handing him his trousers. “When do you think you will be able to come
tomorrow?” he asked Sarah.

Warren got dressed.

“How about we make it early. I could be here about eight o’clock.”

Warren rubbed his brow and groaned. “Please don’t tell me
you are one of those people who love to get up early.”

Silence hung across the studio.

“To be quite honest I have never really thought about what I
would prefer. My father is an early riser and he likes me to have breakfast
with him.”

Archer looked at him, consternation coloring his expression.
He pulled on his shirt.

“You have never wanted to just lie in bed and stay there?”

She came out from behind the screen, her lips pursed. “As I
said, it has never been a topic of discussion for me. Will eight be too early
for you?”

“Eight will be just fine,” Archer said. “Would you like to
join us for breakfast?”

She tugged on the cuffs of her blouse and studied the
buttons. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

Archer took her hand and pulled her close for a kiss. “I
look forward to it.”

A smile lightened the darkness in her eyes the mention of
her father had brought.

Warren tugged her out of his lover’s arms for his own kiss.
Her soft weight against him raised his heartbeat, but he kept it gentle. “Thank
you for an unforgettable afternoon.”

A slight flush covered her cheeks. “It was my pleasure.” She
looked between them. The temperature in the room rose.

Sarah cleared her throat and moved to the door. Archer
offered her his arm and accompanied her out of the studio. Warren wanted to
follow but in his current state he couldn’t risk anyone looking through the
front windows.

A few minutes later Archer returned. Warren went to him and
rested his head on his shoulder. “Why does it feel every time we take one step
forward we immediately stumble three steps back?”

Archer stroked his hair and kissed his chin. “Because that
is exactly what is happening.”

Warren sighed and straightened. “All we can do is be there
for her and hope that soon she trusts us enough to share what worries her.”

Archer studied the door and nodded.

Warren didn’t believe his friend was in an optimistic state
of mind.

Sarah laid her head against the velvet cushion, focused on
the rhythmic chugging of the horseless steam coach. Fatigue had settled over
her like a blanket and she wanted only to get home and have a nap.

Be able to relive the afternoon and imagine what would
happen tomorrow.

She hoped her father had taken her advice and not gone to
the Hall, but a small part of her knew her hope was probably in vain. It was
more than likely he had bragged about the Banknote Verification Device. Not a
lot she could do about it now, other than deal with whatever fallout would
follow.

She remembered the feel of Warren in her hand. Archer’s
instructions had been surprising. It was as if he knew exactly how to drive
Warren to the edge. Sarah shook off the unease. Archer probably had just told
her what he enjoyed and it worked well on Warren too.

The coach came to a halt. Sarah sighed and dragged herself
upright. The automaton opened the door and she nodded to it before turning left
onto the road and walking home. Dusk had fallen and the cold wind drove through
her coat. Her walk didn’t take long. She had asked the driver to let her off
close to home. When she strode up her front-door steps she caught movement to
the side of her, but when she looked no one was there. With a shrug she
unlocked the door and entered.

Her father was not in. The rooms carried the stillness of an
empty house. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. There was nothing she could do
until he arrived back home. With heavy steps she climbed the stairs until she
reached her bedroom. For once she did not undress and hang her clothes, but
just dropped onto the bed and closed her eyes.

Archer’s slightly rough hand on her cheek and neck. Warren’s
fingertips stroking her hips. Archer’s full lips caressing every inch of her
body. Warren’s tongue tangling with hers.

The images spun before her inner eye. Her breathing grew
labored and the now-familiar heaviness settled between her legs. But unlike the
other night, today she welcomed it. Archer and Warren would ensure her
pleasure. Over and over again. Her arousal meant she had something exciting in
her life, something more than helping her father work or picking up the pieces
after him.

A smile curved her lips and she fell asleep.

She woke to the slamming of the door. A quick glance at the
clock told her it was after ten o’clock. She straightened, climbed to her feet
and slowly walked downstairs. Her father was in the kitchen, slapping together
a sandwich. He hummed under his breath and whipped from side to side as if
dancing.

Sarah’s stomach churned. He was in a very good mood.

He swiveled around, a huge grin spread across his face. “Darling,
how was the day with your friends?”

She hugged herself. “Fine, thank you. How was yours?”

His grin widened. “I saw the Franklin boy and then went down
to the pub.”

Her throat constricted. Pub meant rounds. Rounds meant money
they didn’t really have to spare.

He kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, Sarah. I only had half a
pint and I nursed that throughout the evening.”

Her brows rose. “What?”

He took her hand in his. “I know I’ve not been the best
father, but even I know that we are not exactly flush with money right now.”

Her heart stopped beating for a second. It didn’t happen
that often, but once in a while he would surprise her. “Who were you with?”

“A bunch of inventors.” He laughed, happiness pouring from
every pore. His moment of sincerity passed and he was back to being obsessed.
“I dropped a few hints about the Rigdon’s Banknote Verification Device and how
close to success I was.”

“You are putting a lot of pressure onto Arc—onto Mr.
Latimer. What if he cannot decipher where you went wrong? There is a chance he
won’t be able to find a solution.”

“You worry too much. I have the utmost confidence Latimer
can figure out why the ink detector isn’t working properly and make everything
come together.” He laughed. “More than one of those nosey busybodies wanted to
know details.” He shrugged. “Of course I didn’t give them anything they could
use, but told them to wait for the big announcement.”

You mean the one that will never come?
Sarah’s heart
ached at the hope sparkling in his eyes. Every time he put something new
together he thought it would be the one that brought him fame and
acknowledgment. He wouldn’t—no, couldn’t give up.

She kissed his cheek. “I am glad you had a nice evening,
Father. I am going to bed and will see you in the morning.” Sarah wanted to say
something about preparing himself for disappointment, but he hummed and danced
along the corridor and disappeared down the steps that led to his workshop.

For a moment she stared into nothing, remembering how he was
when her mother was still alive. The vibrancy that her parents shared and the
love visible in every move and touch. He had been attentive. A patient teacher
first and an inventor second.

After her mother’s death he had turned to his tinkering for
solace and things had changed. It had taken her some time before she realized
how much of the necessary chores remained undone. When she mentioned it to him
he patted her on the head and told her he’d get to it. She’d been thirteen the
first time a creditor knocked on their door.

That had been the moment she took over everything that
slipped his head.

Sarah fully took on looking after the house instead of
filling gaps as she found them. She arranged his teaching assignments and
nagged him incessantly if he had appointments or assignments to keep.

Over time he slipped further and further away from her and
the only way she could reach him was to ensure he had food and shelter and most
of the materials to build his inventions.

It had only been over the last three years that she actually
assisted him with his projects. His eyesight had diminished and his fingers
were no longer as nimble as they once had been.

She’d ask Archer to move the RBVD to the top of his list so
they could get the final results. Sarah didn’t want her father’s hopes to climb
even higher than they already had.

With heavy steps she plodded back up to her bedroom and got
ready for bed. She sank between the sheets with a heavy sigh.

Maybe she shouldn’t have encouraged him when he first
presented the idea of the Banknote Verification Device. That had been close to
six years ago and she had been so excited that he asked for her help. Sarah had
seen it as an opportunity to be close to him, to share his life.

She knew enough students and young men eager to be challenged.
It had taken three tries to get a young metal worker to get her a printing
plate for £5 notes that matched the real one very closely. It then took her
another couple of years to learn enough about the grading of the colors and the
way the security features were woven into the notes. None of her fake notes had
ever left the workshop and she kept meticulous track of them until she
destroyed them.

During all that time her father had gone through attempt
after attempt to find a mechanism that allowed him to identify false notes. It
was only when the Bank of England changed their ink and added chemicals that he
came up with a solution.

And now all his hopes were set on the Rigdon’s Banknote
Verification Device being the machine that changed everything.

Sarah closed her eyes and clung to Archer’s and Warren’s
images in her mind. She didn’t want to think of days gone by or shattered
dreams.

For once she wanted to be selfish and savor the excitement
she’d experienced this day.

* * * * *

Much to her surprise, very early the next morning Sarah
received an urgent message from Kemmer asking her to meet him at his office.
She snorted. It was no request. The phrasing made it clearly an order. She had
no idea what he could want, but until she paid the outstanding taxes she did
not dare refuse him.

She got ready quickly and sent a message to Archer and
Warren telling them she would be late before heading out. Despite telling
herself over and over again that Kemmer couldn’t do anything to hurt her, that
she had a way to pay the taxes, her stomach rolled and her palms were sweaty.
She arrived outside the tax office, but didn’t enter. Instead she walked
farther down the street, pretending to study the shop windows, focusing on her
breathing, ensuring she calmed down and no longer sounded like a faulty steam
engine.

After a few minutes she had herself under control. With one
last tug of her cuffs she turned around and headed back to the office. The same
young man sat behind the front table, but this time he took her straight to Kemmer’s
office.

“Mr. Kemmer, Miss Rigdon has arrived.”

Kemmer rose and waved her inside. He did not come around his
desk, but only waited for her to sit before doing so himself. He leaned back in
his chair and steepled his fingers. Her mind flipped back to the moment she’d
seen Archer do this. He had looked elegant and confident. Kemmer looked silly.

“Miss Rigdon, it has come to my attention that your father
and you were not truthful in the listings of your taxable estate.”

Sarah froze. Nausea swirled through her. “I don’t
understand. We gave an exact listing of everything my father has earned as a
teacher and the income he has received for his patents and inventions.”

Kemmer tutted. “Then why did you not mention this amazing
new machine he has recently finished?”

She frowned. “I am uncertain as to what you are referring
to.”

His gaze narrowed. “Please do not try my patience. Your
father has not stopped talking about his successful Rigdon’s Banknote
Verification Device. According to him it is only a small step away from mass
production, which means it is valuable and therefore should be part of your
taxable estate.”

Relief spread through Sarah. “Unfortunately you are
misinformed, Mr. Kemmer.”

He picked up a pen and tapped it against the desk. “Really?”
The anger burning in his eyes chased away her relief.

She looked down and tugged on her cuffs before clasping her
hands together. “Yes, really. My father was a little hasty in announcing his
project a success. It is not yet finished.”

To her surprise a slow smiled curved his thin lips. The
hairs on the back of her neck rose. “Indeed? What stage would you say this
project is at?”

Sarah mentally frowned. Why was he so interested in
something he had to know would never have any impact on the world? “It is with
Mr. Latimer. As an engineer himself he has the ability to determine if a
project is ready for the next step. And he has a number of contacts that could
be helpful.”

Kemmer pursed his lips and set down his pen, lining it up
exactly with a ruler and a notepad. He cleared his throat. “And what does Mr. Latimer
think of your father’s project?”

She shrugged. “I cannot say. He has not spoken to me about
the Rigdon’s Banknote Verification Device.”

“When do you believe he will—”

A knock sounded and the young man from the front desk opened
the door. “My sincere apologies for interrupting, Mr. Kemmer.” He hurried over
and whispered into Mr. Kemmer’s ear.

Kemmer paled.

He jumped to his feet and excused himself with a hurried
nod. “My apologies, Miss Rigdon. This won’t take long. I will be back
momentarily. Something has come up that requires my immediate attention.” The
two men rushed out of the office, slamming the door behind them.

Sarah sat back and attempted to work through the
conversation she’d just had.

She couldn’t see Kemmer in her father’s pub. How on earth
had he found out what her father had said last night? And what had made him
think her father’s contraption was worthy of being part of their small estate?

She continued to mull it over. Ten minutes later she still
sat in the office, waiting for Kemmer to return. When he kept her waiting
another five minutes she grew impatient and angry. His emergency appeared real,
but if it took this long it would have only been polite to let her know and
reschedule their meeting.

She stood. He probably would have done so for almost every
other person in the city, but he knew she had no power or influence. Her mentioning
his abominable behavior would not cause the slightest bit of a stir.

She stepped up to the bookshelves running the length of the
office filled with tomes and tomes of accounting and tax texts. She couldn’t
imagine him reading all of them, but they definitely looked impressive.

Sarah walked along the shelves until she came back to his
workstation. Curiosity and caution warred inside her. She threw a quick glance
at the door before stepping closer. Her heartbeat sped up. If Kemmer walked in
on her standing like this she would be in trouble.

But she might find something that would explain his
questions. Her mouth dry, she stepped behind the desk.

It was big, made from mahogany and elaborately carved. Stacks
of papers filled the top to either side of the chair. She lifted them gently,
but found nothing other than spreadsheets. In the far left corner was a crumpled
£5 note.

She paused and studied it.

It didn’t look right. She moved closer, picked up the note
and straightened it. Black smudged her gloves.

She barely suppressed her shout.

This note was a forgery. She knew enough about forgeries to
spot one when she saw it.

Beneath the note were sprinkles of black powder. She pulled
off a glove, tapped her fingertip into the dust and rubbed index finger and
thumb together. It appeared to be ink. But not the kind of ink you could buy in
any store.

Footsteps echoed outside the door. Sarah shoved the note
into her purse and rushed back to her seat.

Not a second too soon.

The same moment her bottom touched down the door swung open.
She turned to look back at Kemmer, struggling to keep her breathing calm.