Katie Rose (33 page)

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Authors: A Case for Romance

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“Thank you, Mr. Smith. That is very kind of you.” Emily accepted the papers and gave Thomas a superior I-told-you-so look that he obviously didn’t appreciate. While she scanned the documents, Ewert’s eyes never left her breasts. The low-cut dress she wore, one of Rosie’s suggestions, more than amply displayed her generous figure, and Ewert devoured her by the glow of the gaslight.

Thomas walked into the house for a moment, returning with Emily’s shawl. He placed the black lace garment over her shoulders, discreetly draping her bosom. Emily glanced up and smiled a thanks, while Ewert, understanding Thomas’s motives, gritted his teeth in frustration.

“These look like business letters and documents concerning purchase of the house. I’ll put them away, along with the rest of his papers. Thank you for bringing them.”

“Why, you are quite welcome. I almost wish I had more, so I could have an excuse to come over and visit again. The house looks lovely. You’ve obviously done a great deal of work on it.”

He might have been fishing for an invitation to come in, but Thomas interrupted quickly.

“Emily would ask you inside, but I had to fix some plaster today. The house isn’t presentable.”

Ewert got reluctantly to his feet, while Emily shot Thomas a questioning look.

“Well, I’d better be going. Thanks again for the coffee.” Ewert handed Emily his cup and walked slowly down the path, waving once more before he disappeared from sight.

As soon as the man was out of earshot, Thomas swore aloud. “That licentious bastard! If he stared at your bosom any more, he’d have fallen inside your dress.”

“Thomas!” Emily said, shocked but delighted. “He didn’t do any such thing. It was kind of him to bring my father’s papers.”

“Yes, real kind.” Thomas snorted. “Emily, how can you be so naive? Don’t you see what that man wants?”

Emily’s nose lifted. “No, I don’t see anything except that your imagination is overheated.”

“That’s not all that’s overheated,” Thomas growled. The cup fell from Emily’s grasp and rolled across the porch as he pulled her into his arms but neither of them paid any attention to it. “I can see I’ll have to make an honest woman of you soon, so that love-smitten lawyers aren’t howling at your door.”

Emily’s mouth parted in astonishment, but before she could speak, he captured her words under a hard kiss. Every tingling inch of her flesh seemed to burn against him as he swept his hand into her hair, holding
her head firmly, while his mouth took erotic possession of hers.

It took Emily a minute to realize the whimpers she was hearing came from her. Desire, hot and heady, coiled within her like a snake, then spread through her blood like heated syrup. Her breasts tingled, and a now-familiar throbbing started deep inside her. When he put his hand on her breast, the sensation was almost unbearable, and she moaned in sheer pleasure.

“Emily. My God, this is always so good between us. I don’t think I can wait much longer. I desperately want to make love to you.”

“Yes, Thomas. Yes.” From a distance, Emily heard her own response, and it was all that he needed.

He pulled her to her feet and Emily led him through the door and up the stairs. The house was very quiet, but an odd uneasiness crept through her. When they entered her bedroom, Emily couldn’t help glancing at the mirror. There was no reflection, no bawdy saloon girl’s giggle, but she couldn’t get Rosie’s presence out of her mind.

“Emily, my sweet girl.” Thomas embraced her once more, and kissed her thoroughly. Emily delighted in the pure sensation of it, the feel of his hands caressing her back, the teasing way he toyed with her buttons and then began to undo them, one by one. In the mirror, she could see her reflection, then gasped as one breast popped out, fully exposed.

“Emily, come to me, sweet. Bend closer, that’s it.…”

His hoarse encouragements, exciting as they were,
could not make her forget the picture of herself, naked and writhing, in Rosie’s mirror. Could the ghost see her even when she wasn’t visible? The thought was like a bucket of cold water being poured over her head. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Thomas’s embrace, quickly fastening her dress.

“Emily, what’s wrong? What is it?”

Shyness nearly overcame her and she shook her head. How could she explain this? He had never believed her when she’d told him about Rosie. Still, she couldn’t help the way she felt.

“Thomas, I can’t.…” Emily faltered, then made herself continue. “This is where Rosie appears! I just can’t, knowing that she might be there!”

Thomas gazed at her incredulously, then looked at the mirror. Frustration was keen in his voice as he indicated the sheer glass. “But there’s no one there! Look!”

“Thomas, I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. And I just … can’t.”

“Are you sure there isn’t another reason?” Thomas’s voice sounded harsh. “Like maybe you’ve had a better offer?” When Emily stared at him in confusion, he continued. “I suppose a barrister might be a better prospect than someone like me, with a name to clear and a fictitious position. Has he been here before, or were you planning a little rendezvous with him later?”

Emily gasped, then drew herself up to her full height. “How dare you! Sir, I am asking you to leave. Now.”

Thomas started to say something, but Emily
brushed past him and ran down the stairs. At the bottom she held the door open, his hat in her outstretched hand.

“Emily—”

“I bid you to leave, sir,” Emily said firmly.

Thomas walked helplessly out on the porch, then turned and continued down the path. As soon as he had gone, she slammed the door. From the bedroom, she heard delighted laughter, and she braced her hands on her hips, finding little humor in the situation.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she scolded, while Rosie giggled merrily.

“Why, I think it’s precious, honey. Your preacher man is so jealous he can’t see straight. That’s exactly what that man needed, a little competition. A few more episodes like that, and you’ll have him hooked.”

“Do you really think so?” Emily ran upstairs and approached the glass. Rosie swam into view.

“Yes, I certainly do. He’s been entirely too confident of your affections. Let him see that another man is interested. It’s a ploy that always works, honey. Trust me.”

“Why do you suppose that is, anyway?” Emily asked, trying to see the logic of it all.

“Did you ever see dogs mark their territory? Then when another dog comes around, they bark and growl and dig up the dirt? Why, they’d do anything to defend it! That’s what just happened, honey. You can count on it.”

24
Another Yarn

Emily walked down the stairs for breakfast the following morning, hiding a yawn behind her fist. Tying her robe tightly about her against the morning chill, she tried to force herself to wake up. The emotional events of the previous evening had left her drained, and she’d slept soundly as a result. Stumbling toward the kitchen, she wanted nothing more than a cup of hot, black coffee.

At the bottom of the steps she paused, dimly aware that something was wrong. Backtracking, she returned to the parlor. The front door was wide open. Guilt filled her as she recalled Thomas’s scoldings, but then she remembered locking the door right after she’d slammed it on him.

That’s odd, she thought, turning to look around the room. It was then she saw that the parlor was in
disarray, and that the strongbox that she’d left in the center of the floor was missing. Fear crept up her spine. The curtains billowed at the window in the rush of clean fall air, showing clearly where the intruder had gained entrance.

From what she could tell, the only thing missing was the box. A sensation of vulnerability made her knees weak. During the hours she’d slept, someone must have opened the window, crept in, and searched the room. Finding the box, the robber or robbers had secured the treasure and brazenly walked out the front door.

They must have been after the gold. Vaguely Emily recalled the sheriff remarking that the house had been broken into several times, and she recalled the vandalization she’d witnessed when she’d arrived. She shouldn’t be surprised that it had happened again, unless … it meant something more.

Fear dissolved as her mind went to work. The first few hours after a crime was committed were crucial, Emily reminded herself, since most of the evidence would ultimately be destroyed by footprints, weather, and time. Her instincts guided her, and she walked outside to examine the windowsill and the soil beneath it.

The flowers there were untouched. But Emily saw that the earth behind them was trampled, as if someone had deliberately avoided the phlox. The sill was swept clean of dust, indicating that someone had recently come in contact with it, almost certainly as they climbed into her house. Taking out her glass,
she examined the window closely. There, where the sill met the sash, was an indentation where a knife had jimmied it open.

The mark was trim and clean. There were no scratches, and neither the breakage that would have been created by a thick tool such as a crowbar, nor the splintering that a screwdriver might have caused. Scanning the grounds carefully, she looked for a cigarette butt, a box of matches, a spot of gray ash, but her burglar had obviously been careful and the earth revealed nothing about who had passed that way. So intense was her concentration that she ran straight into Thomas as she rounded the corner of the house.

“Emily! What are you doing out here?” He snatched at her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. Before she could answer, he went on quickly. “I’m sorry. I’ve done a lot of thinking, and I came to apologize for my behavior. I was presumptuous last night, and you had every right to throw me out. I’d like to talk about this.”

“Not now, Thomas! I’m on a scent!”

She brushed past him and into the house, her glass noting every suspicious trace. Dropping to her knees, she had just started to examine the rug when she heard his footsteps behind her.

“Scent? What are you talking about? Good God, what happened?” Thomas stared in dismay at the vandalized room.

“Someone broke in during the night,” Emily explained, glancing up from the floor impatiently. “Thomas, I must ask you to step to one side until I’ve
gathered all the evidence. You might inadvertently disturb something.”

“What the hell do you mean, someone broke in! What happened? Are you hurt?”

She stared at him through her glass, her expression clearly saying that he wasn’t using the brain God gave him, then she shook her head. “No, I’m obviously not hurt. The only thing they seem to have stolen is my father’s strongbox. That’s rather telling, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, either they thought it contained valuables, which is not illogical given its appearance, or they came purposefully looking for it. My only happiness is that when they open the box, they won’t find anything. I removed the papers.”

Emily produced them triumphantly from inside her robe. Thomas swore as he caught a glimpse of her creamy skin, and the hint of a rosy nipple as well. Slamming the door shut behind him, he crossed over to where she knelt and hauled her to her feet.

“That’s it. Emily, go pack. I’m taking you to the hotel right away. You are not staying in this house alone one more night. Christ, when I think what could have happened.”

He looked truly shaken. Emily stared at him for a moment, then a broad smile crossed her face.

“Thomas! You do care about me, I knew it! Rosie said you did, but I didn’t believe her!”

Thomas groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward. But the struggle within him was over almost immediately,
and he swept Emily into his arms, burying his face in her hair. Pressing heated kisses along her throat, he growled softly, “You’re damned right, I care about you, and I am not standing by any longer and letting this nonsense continue. I am moving you today, and that’s final.”

“But Thomas, I can’t move! You know the mystery is tied up in this house! I can’t leave it!” Emily protested. His eyes narrowed and she backed slowly away, dropping her hands from his shoulders. He stepped closer, and she felt an odd sense of threat as he faced her down.

“This is not up for discussion, Emily. I’ll give you the morning to pack, then I’m going to the hotel and making your reservation. If you don’t go there peacefully, I promise you that you won’t like what happens.”

And then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Tears of frustration stung her eyes as Emily felt a tumult of emotions inside her, and she longed to throw something breakable.

How could she leave now? The solution to this mystery could be at her very feet! Yet the danger was evident, even to her. Somehow she sensed that the answer to everything was under her nose—and someone else knew it, too. Someone desperate enough to break in to find it.

“Excuse me, Miss Potter.” Lynette spoke from the threshold, then gasped at the sight inside. “My word! What happened?”

“I had a robbery last night.” Emily sighed, explaining the morning’s events.

Lynette shook her head in sympathy. “That’s terrible,
it truly is! I was worried about you this morning, when you didn’t show up at the shop. I hope you don’t mind, but it occurred to me that you’re out here all alone, and that is never a good thing. Perhaps … no, it would be too bold of me to ask.”

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