EscapeWithMe (21 page)

Sam hadn’t known how Ryder’s mother had died. She couldn’t
imagine how it had been for the person who discovered her body. “You think
William did it? Why?”

He quickly closed the distance between them and confessed in
a whisper. “No doubt because Elaine and I had an affair.” He straightened from
her, though he still stood only an arm’s length away. He seemed grimly
satisfied at the shock on her face.

Did he know the real reason why she was shocked? How likely
was it that Mr. Webb was Ryder’s father? Could she even present such a theory
to Ryder, who hated few people as much as Webb?

“I went to Lydd after she married, but when her son was born
she sent me a letter, saying she wanted to see me. I…I agreed to return to
Poole, but she had hung herself before I arrived.”

“Mr. Webb, I…” She didn’t know what to say. It was all so
tragic and terrible.

“The key, Miss Reed.” Webb held out his hand and she
remembered that he wanted to open the trunk.

She stepped back. “No key, no trunk. Let us be on our way.”
His body tensed.

“The key. I’ll not ask again.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

He eased a step closer. “You think you know what kind of man
I am.”

“You’re in pain. Hanging Ryder will not bring her back.”

Webb snapped. He lunged, reaching for the handbag dangling
from her wrist. She swung away and grabbed the pistol. He held it tight in his
grasp but she forced the barrel up, pointing it at the sky.

Oliver threw himself onto Webb’s back. The pistol discharged
and the horses whinnied. She heard a horse charge off but the coach only moved
a couple of feet—Webb’s horse had cut and run. Oliver put a chokehold on Webb
and Sam pulled herself from Webb’s tight grip on her arm. The driver dangled
from Webb’s shoulders as he was much shorter than the revenue officer, and Webb
bucked like a stallion to remove the pressure from his jugular. Oliver slowly
won out.

When Webb lost consciousness and dropped to his knees,
Oliver released him. The taller man collapsed into the mud.

“Holy shit,” she said.

Oliver stood akimbo, panting. “I’ve wanted to do that for
some weeks now.”

Sam felt horrible for Mr. Webb, yet she was full of
adrenaline and relieved that no one had been shot. “That was amazing, Oliver.
Nice grapple.”

He smiled tiredly and tipped his hat at her. “Should I go
fetch his horse or do you wish to be on our way?”

She grimaced. How nice did she want to be? “We should at
least move him off the road. I’ll help.”

Webb was incredibly heavy and she didn’t have much mobility,
even in a traveling dress, so it was with a great deal of grunting that they
carried him to the nearest tree and leaned him against it. As she wiped some of
the mud from his face, his horse wandered back to the road. Oliver fetched it
and tied it off on a branch. From so close, Sam could see the exhaustion on
Webb’s face, the lines around his eyes that betrayed his age. He made a soft
noise and she reared back, thinking he was waking up, but he didn’t, thank God.
She didn’t want a repeat demonstration of a stranglehold.

Having done as much as expected, she left her muddy kerchief
on his lap and returned to the coach.

* * * * *

Ryder was sprawled across the seat of a hackney coach,
exhausted but relieved. He would be quite glad to sleep in his own bed that
night—Samantha’s naked form against his side—but alas, it would be only for a
day. He would be returning to France the day after tomorrow in repetition of
the past six days, and what remained in storage at the warehouse would be
delivered to their buyers by Monday. Samantha would settle the transactions in
his absence.

His heart ached, so desirous he was to see her. Would she
have returned yet from her day trip out of the city? Would she be as joyous to
see him as he was to see her? He sat restlessly in the cab, the thought
invading his mind yet again that he might confess the true depths of his feelings.
Would she reciprocate them?

The hackney slowed to a stop at his destination. The
curtains at the front windows were drawn, so he didn’t know if she was within.
He descended from the hackney, paid the driver, and let himself into the
apartment.

Mary approached from the parlor. “Mr. West?” She spoke with
confusion, as though she had woken from a nap and was regaining her bearings.
“Ah, welcome home. I’m sure you’re glad to be back.” Ryder looked about but
didn’t see Samantha or hear anyone stirring about the apartment.

“Samantha?”

The maid dropped her eyes to her feet and reached for his
coat without looking. “Ah, she hasn’t come back yet, sir.” She turned to hang
his coat and mumbled to herself. “Mm, this’ll need some cleaning.”

“Is all well?”

She didn’t turn around to answer him, but instead tugged at
the sleeves of his coat. “Would you like me to fetch you a meal from the
tavern, sir? Or some tea if you’ve already taken your supper?”

“What’s wrong, Mary?” He gently turned her about. She was
close to tears.

“Samantha. She made me promise not to tell you…”

The room grew darker and his grip tightened on her arm. “Was
Webb here?” Mary’s eyes shot up with alarm. He nearly roared.

“N-no!
No
, Mr. West. She would never do that to you.
She loves you.”

His throat closed up. He was both ashamed and ecstatic. He
thought himself past unfair assumptions of Samantha’s conduct, but he feared
that he did not have her heart or her fidelity. Mary’s assertion otherwise gave
him such hope.

“She made me promise and I don’t want to break her trust. I
don’t, but you need to know. She…had an accident while you were gone.”

“What? Is she all right?”

The maid nodded hastily. “Yes, but…a moment if you would,
sir.” Confused, he let her go and she went through the kitchen and downstairs.
He entered the parlor and waited for her there. She returned with what looked
to be towels.

She then opened up the folds to reveal a great amount of
dried blood.

Ryder nearly toppled over. His head was light and his heart
pounded with fear. He reached for the towels in Mary’s hands and saw that his
hands shook.

His voice was raw. “What happened?”

“We were washing her hair, sir, and I came down to get more
water. I was only gone a few minutes.” Tears slid down the maid’s cheeks.
“W-when I went back upstairs, she was on the floor. Blood all over.” Mary
nearly lost control of her voice, but swallowed and took a deep breath. “She
wouldn’t wake up and I put her on the bed. I thought I should get a doctor but
she woke up after a few minutes.”

“Where?”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Where was she bleeding? Did she hit her head?”

Mary shook her head. “I tried to—a lot of it was on her
legs, sir…like it had dripped down.”

Ryder fell back against the sofa. Could she have been? They
hadn’t been careful, but it had only been a month… Would she have even known
yet?

The front door opened.

“Ah, home sweet home. Mary?” Samantha called. “Oh Oliver,
thank you so much. That box is probably heavy. You can just set it anywhere.”

Ryder stood straight and steeled himself. Mary seemed
terrified.

Samantha walked farther in, her hat in her hands, and
spotted them in the parlor. Her face lit up. “Ryder! You’re back. I’m a muddy
mess. You won’t believe who stopped us on the road.”

She saw Mary beyond him, and then what Mary held in her
hands. She froze for a brief moment, as if she were posing for a self-portrait.
Her smile slowly dwindled. Her breaths grew shallow.

“Were you pregnant, Samantha?”

Mary broke into sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

It was sheer panic on Samantha’s face as she dropped her
hat. “No, I—it was just the first day of my uh, monthly.”

“This much?” He pointed at the towels. “And you fainted? I
do not pretend to be an expert on female reproduction but this seems
impossible. Why would Mary come to me if she weren’t concerned?”

“It’s that necklace,” Mary said. “It told me.” Ryder was
perplexed at the maid’s allegation but Samantha blanched.

Her voice was shrill. “Mary!”

Strange, the thing was such a part of her that he no longer
noticed it. She always wore it. Always.

She
never
took it off.

What did he know about her, truly? She was American, had
lived in New York where she kept the books for a shop that dealt in antiques,
and she hated a man named Brian. She was five and twenty.

He adored her so ardently, yet he knew nothing more than
that. Did she have family? Friends? What were her dreams?

“It’s time that I have the truth from you. Where did you
acquire that necklace and why do you always wear it? Who is Brian? What is he
to you?” He came closer to her. Her eyes were wide. “Why did you come to
London? What circumstances left you with Mrs. Hayes? Why are you here with me?”

Samantha’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes brimmed with
tears.

Verily he would break his heart, for she did not trust him
with the answers to his questions. Why, when he would do anything for her?

She ran upstairs.

Chapter Thirteen

Sam couldn’t have this conversation yet. Sure, she had
thought a lot about telling him, about what she would say, about all the ways
in which she hoped he’d respond, but now that he was asking, she couldn’t do
it, especially since Mary and Oliver were standing right there.

Escape was too tempting. She hiked up her skirt and darted
for the bedroom. For a couple of blissful seconds as she beat feet upstairs, he
didn’t pursue, but his shock at her flight didn’t last long. Booted footfalls
pounded up the stairs behind her.

“Samantha!” She lunged for the bedroom.

What if the worst were to happen and Ryder thought she was
throw-in-the-asylum crazy? If she denied ever telling him, she might avoid the
hellish prospect of languishing in Bedlam, but he would never look at her the
same, if at all were he to completely shun her. She didn’t want that for either
of them. She’d never recover.

She nearly had the bedroom door shut but Ryder threw himself
against the jamb. He heaved the door open and she retreated farther into the
room. He was incredulous.

“Samantha, please! Why can you not tell me?”

“Webb found us on the road back to London,” she blurted. “He
threatened Oliver with a pistol and he searched the coach.”

“What?” It took a few seconds for his mind to catch up. “How
did he find you? What did he say?”

That he followed the change of topic was very relieving. “He
saw your ship in London and he forced one of your crewmen to tell him where you
disembarked. He was riding for Poole and recognized the coach.”

“Did he find the log?”

She shook her head. “We had to jump him though. Listen,
Ryder, he told me something about your—”

“No, I—I will not be swayed. You must answer my questions.”

Her eyes stung. She wasn’t ready.

“I
want
to tell you.” A lump grew in her throat.

Ryder came to her and gently took her arms. His eyebrows
were pinched. He breathed as though it were something he had to concentrate on.
“Do you not trust me, Samantha?”

She braced her hands on his chest and clenched the dark
material of his vest. “I do. I swear I do, but the entire truth… It would
change how you see me.”

“It wouldn’t.” He pulled her closer. His stare was direct,
but not because he was searching her soul. He was showing her his own. “You command
my heart. It beats only for you. I love you.”

Her eyes slid shut, spilling tears, and for a moment she was
too overwhelmed to speak. She did what she could and pressed herself to him. He
embraced her without question.

Mary called from downstairs. “Mr. West, we can hear
everything.”

He didn’t let her go. “Well, back to the tavern with you!”

While they waited to hear the front door open and shut, Sam
struggled to calm down and cool the aching lump in her throat. Ryder stroked
her hair, which both helped and hindered.

The front door shut.

She stepped out of his arms, her eyes averted. He produced a
kerchief from somewhere and she gratefully wiped her eyes.

“I can tell you about Brian at least,” she offered in a
strained voice.

He didn’t say anything in response. Okay then.

“My parents weren’t interested in history but they loved to
travel, so my dad’s antiques shop was kind of incidental. It started off with
just him and my mom, but it grew to ten employees. Brian was one of the first
people they hired. I was a lot younger than him and he was my dad’s best
salesman, very charming.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ryder clench his hands.

“Mom died a couple of years ago and I came back home to help
Dad with the shop. Then Dad died last year. The shop went to me, and Brian took
over sales while I did acquisition. That’s when he changed. At first I thought
it was stress, or maybe he was upset that Dad didn’t leave him anything. I
don’t know.

“God, I thought he was so mysterious. He kept me hooked for
a long time, and I never saw underneath. When I was mad at him, he was
attentive for a few days, maybe a week. He’d make me feel attractive, but he
never touched me. I don’t think he cared about sex.”

She fought the fresh wave of tears. “I don’t think he cared about
me. I was incidental too.” She couldn’t help her curiosity and looked up at
Ryder. His expression was so earnest. “I found out that Brian was smuggling
something inside the antiques. Isn’t that weird? I come all the way to London
and hook up with another smuggler. Only Brian wasn’t smuggling tea. It’s a drug
called heroin, although it could’ve been cocaine for all I know.”

Ryder became guarded, but she saw a trace of guilt.

“When Brian knew what I had found, he threatened to kill me,
so I ran.” That was a gross understatement, but she had to fib about the gun. A
bullet in the gut was not something from which you easily recovered. Ryder
didn’t like the threaten-to-kill part at all. He bared gritted teeth at her.

“Why London? Why come so far to escape him?”

“All I can say is I had no other option.” She couldn’t be
any less ambiguous as she didn’t know the answer to his question either.

“The necklace? Why is it so—?”

“Please, Ryder, don’t ask me anything else. I can’t tell
you.”

That earnestness was back. He stepped close. “I don’t
understand. Are you still in trouble? Is he looking for you?”

“No, he can’t find me here.” She slid her hands beneath his
jaw. “I know you want to protect me, but knowing more won’t let you do that.
Please.”

She saw so much pain on his face. He groped at her for
succor and she wanted the same. She wanted to give him whatever he needed, just
not the truth. Her fingers went to the base of his head and pulled his lips
down to hers. He made a heartrending sound as she kissed him slowly,
deliberately. He pulled her hips against him. She slipped the tie from his
ponytail and filled her hands with his hair. When he tried to deepen the kiss,
she lifted her lips.

“Undress me,” she whispered. A puff of surprise blew across
her cheek.

His voice was hoarse. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“It’ll be worth it.” He shuddered against her and she
brought him down for another kiss. He let her dictate the pace, let her
experience his lips and tongue as if it were their first kiss. His hands were
gentle but quick, unlacing her dress and then her corset. When he would have
shucked the layers from her, she pulled away from him and held her bodice to
her chest.

He was impatient. “Samantha, I
need
you.” He moved to
disrobe her but she took another step back.

“I want you completely naked and sitting on the bed.” Her
eyes slid down to the erection straining against his breeches. They stayed
there as he hastily went after his clothes. He nearly tore the buttons from his
vest as everything came off in a mere moment. His thick arousal sprang from
between the corded muscles of his thighs. His abdomen was tight with his barely
checked control. His wide chest moved with his deep breaths.

He sat on the bed and his hand went to his cock.

“Hands off.” He locked that strong jaw but removed his hand.

She didn’t look away from his stare as she slowly wriggled
out of her dress. The blue taffeta rustled as it hit the floor and she stepped
out of it. She slipped off the corset and tossed it onto a chair. The clap of
her shoes was muffled by the rug as she approached him.

Her chemise was last. Teasing him was incredibly arousing so
she took her time pulling it over her head. He breathed out hard when she bared
her sex and sucked it back in through his teeth when her breasts spilled from
the folds of linen.

The blue stockings and shoes stayed on. His hands flexed and
his teeth chewed his lip, but he didn’t touch her as he obviously wanted. His
eyes did the touching for him, and her skin grew warm wherever they roamed.

She sank to her knees, which made him groan at the
implication. Her hands glided up the insides of his thighs, pushing them open
to give her some room. He braced his hands behind him.

Teasing was the trend, so she eased close to kiss his
abdomen first. Her breast brushed his erection. The muscle beneath her lips
jerked and he gasped. She loved the hell out of that reaction and did it again.
His hand came around to her shoulder. She sat on her heels and trailed kisses
up his right thigh, then his left. The slit at the tip of his cock was
glistening.

She had never done this, and Ryder had strangely never asked
her to do it, which made her wonder if he had ever been given head before. She
braced herself and licked her lips.

“Samantha.” He said her name as if she were killing him.
“Touch me,
please
.”

His cock slid between her lips, up her tongue, and the tip
brushed the back of her throat, yet still there was more of him. The taste
wasn’t bad. In fact it was pretty good. It certainly wasn’t an ice-cream sundae
but it was his taste, his essence. He didn’t move at first. She wasn’t even
sure if he was breathing. She experimented with how deep she could take him,
marveling at the texture of his skin, the warmth and the hardness. She was
surprised at how wide she had to open her jaw.

He let out a breath with great difficulty. She looked up at
him and only saw his throat and jaw as his head was tipped back. Her eyes
closed. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his erection and followed
her mouth as she pumped up and down his shaft. She heard a hiss and his hand
tightened on her shoulder.

His cock popped free of her mouth and she took a couple of
deep breaths. Her lips were slick. She looked up and oh damn, was he giving her
a look. Heavy-lidded eyes and a tight forehead, as if she were the best thing
he had ever experienced. She felt powerful.

“Grab my hair.” He made a small noise and his hand on her
shoulder went to the back of her head. His fingers curled tightly around her
hair.

She watched him closely. “Come in the back of my throat.”

He growled and shoved her mouth onto his cock. She followed
the push and pull of his hand, her own hands braced on his thighs. His hips
were thrusting and his erection went deep, but she concentrated on breathing
through her nose, on keeping her throat relaxed.

A ragged groan escaped from him and his cock throbbed in her
mouth. She took a deep breath but still was unprepared. The tip went past her
tongue. A warm spurt hit the back of her throat and she gagged. After a cough,
she swallowed a second splash. She held down his hips but still he writhed,
moaning and panting. Another spurt was swallowed. It was almost too much at
once but she was so turned-on that she tried to milk him for more.

His shoulders hit the bed as she pulled her mouth away. He
tensed and held his breath. His loins twitched. A sigh of relief followed and
he relaxed. She stood and watched it happen two more times.

She was intoxicated, triumphant. She had pleasured this
potent man and he was so sexy lying there, utterly spent.

The daylight was nearly gone, so she lit a couple of candles
and hit up the bathroom to wash her face and gargle. She came back expecting to
find him practically passed out, but he had sat up and his back was to her. She
rounded the foot of the bed.

“Whoa.” He was still hard. Sweat dotted his skin and he
shifted stiffly as though his erection was too sensitive to touch.

“I missed you, it seems.” His voice was tinged with the
sting of lust.

“Yeah.” Her body was responding hardcore. She restlessly
rubbed her thighs together and pictured straddling him right there.

She put her knee on the bed and her hands on his shoulders.
“Let me give you what we both want.” He sucked in a breath, a powerful need in
his eyes. He relented to the guidance of her hands, which steered him to the
center of the bed. She then crawled over him and pushed him onto his back. Her
shins bracketed his hips. Tapping the heels of her shoes against his legs got
him to lift his knees and she locked herself into place with her ankles under his
thighs.

His hands smoothed up her legs and held her hips. She rose
and watched him as she parted the lips of her vagina. Though she could hardly
wait any longer, she teased her clit with the head of his cock.

He gasped. “
Christ
, Samantha.” He tried to slide into
her but she pulled away. He grunted with impatience. She lowered her hips and
used him as a dildo again, savoring his groan.

“Doesn’t that feel good?”

“I need your cunny.” The new word made her blink, but he
said it as if he were an addict in withdrawal.

Her voice was husky when she asked, “What’ll you do to it?”

His whole body tightened. His hands clamped around her
waist. It should’ve been a clue but it was with both shock and pleasure that
she cried out when he thrust, impaling her. A dam had broken. It wasn’t her
making love to him anymore, and all she could do was hold on.

Not in his wildest imaginings had Ryder believed Samantha so
erotic, so capable of opening him up and shattering his control. How did she
know just what to do and what to say to bring him to completion? He had been
with other women, but none had so completely dominated his body as Samantha
did.

He had never received such attention as when she was on her
knees, swallowing his cock, and he was almost feverish as she sharpened his
arousal and anticipation with kisses to his stomach and thighs. The warm seal
of her lips around him had nearly stopped his heart and when she ordered him to
fist her hair and come into her mouth…

The recounting of it nearly made him spend himself again.

Her hands were braced on his chest as he worked her against
his cock. Her breasts bounced with every stroke and he had to close his eyes
lest he succumb to completion. The slap of their skin matched the protestations
of the bed. Her throaty moans let him know how hard to thrust, what speed
pleasured her the most.