With that, he ran down the corridor, then charged down the stairs.
After him, she shouted, “Who shot at you?” He must have seen, mustn’t he? But of course, he didn’t answer.
Along the hall, doors opened. The Incognita rushed out, a wrap of silk thrown around her. Saxonby also came out. Rutledge and Blute stayed behind their doors and peeked out. Apparently they had no desire to step out boldly and risk being shot.
“Was Sinclair shot again? He’s making a habit of this,” Rutledge muttered.
“You could go to help him,” she shouted, and she took off in pursuit before she’d finished the statement. She didn’t care if the next shot was aimed at her. Sin couldn’t face the killer alone!
Her legs shook, but she made them work. She was breathing in the smoke of the shot, the acrid smell of it. A male figure was rushing away from the darkened stairs. Why hadn’t she thought of a weapon—?
Footsteps pounded behind her. “Miss Love, stop,” shouted Saxonby. She ignored him.
She reached the bottom of the stairs, hesitated, trying to figure out where to go.
A figure emerged from the shadows. She didn’t scream because she sensed, almost instantly, who it was.
Sin. He grabbed her, planting his hands on her upper arms. “You should not have come after me. I lost the fiend. Heard the front door slam shut. Then I feared it was a ruse to get me away from you, so I ran back. Cursing myself with every step in case you were in danger. I didn’t see who it was. All I could see was the cloak the blackguard wore.”
Then Portia realized what she had seen, what it meant. “I saw them all. Saxonby and Clarissa came out of their bedrooms. Rutledge and Blute peeked out. It must have been Harriet Barker. It must have been. What are we going to do?”
“Nothing tonight. With our doors locked, she can’t get to us. She must have been the one to scream, hoping to lure me out. Or at least lure someone out.”
“Couldn’t we chase her? If you know she went outside—”
“Into the dark and a storm. We would be in too much danger.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“Go back to bed.”
“What?”
“You said I couldn’t seduce you into marriage. I plan to try. And I want to make love to you while I’m still alive to do it.”
* * *
“But you could have been killed! Shouldn’t we try to stop the Old Madam before she shoots at someone else?” Portia couldn’t believe Sin had really returned to their bedroom, locked the door, and carried her to bed.
“We’re safe until morning,” he murmured.
“You can’t know that.”
“We are behind a locked door. The window sashes are locked. I was at risk because I fell for a ruse and went outside. In here, in bed together, we’re safe.”
“But Saxonby wanted to speak with you. He wanted to make a plan—”
“I need to be here with you, Portia.”
Heavens, he licked her neck and it made her tingle everywhere.
Still, wasn’t now a time to be serious? To plan for their survival? To plan to catch a vicious murderer? “How can you think of sex now?”
But he rolled her over and kissed the cheeks of her bottom. She had to admit—she really didn’t want to chase a killer.
Not when his fingers caressed her rump and then slid into the valley between her cheeks. He’d stroked her there—in that forbidden place—when he’d made love to her from behind. Her whole body was poised in anticipation....
Would he touch her there again?
He licked his finger—she saw him over her shoulder. Then caressed the entrance to her anus with his dampened finger.
“Oh, perhaps I shouldn’t. Perhaps this is too wicked,” she whispered.
“With you, I feel that nothing is wicked, Portia. Everything feels special. You deserve to experience and enjoy anything you desire. But I won’t do anything you don’t want.”
Doubt hit her. He was tremendously experienced. Would he be disappointed if she proved boring—too afraid to do sexual things?
“Portia, there’s nothing wrong with setting limits to what you enjoy.”
“But you tried wild things.”
“I needed to keep going for wilder, stranger sexual acts as I grew jaded. I don’t want that with you.”
Because he knew this was only for duty. That was what her heart told her.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “Put your finger inside my . . . my bum.”
There. She was going to be daring.
She held her breath as the tip of his finger stroked her in gentle spirals. She panted, her heart pounded, and her fingers curled up, mimicking the sweet tension inside her.