Quicksilver - Amanda Quick [78]
“Intuition is not always reliable.”
“Think about it, Owen. If Adriana was in league with the killer, she would have had no reason to try to push me down the steps. Hurting me or even killing me in that manner would not have achieved the murderer’s ends. He is using his victims to lay down energy in mirrors. That requires planning and preparation.”
“She is dangerous, Virginia.”
“She is a woman scorned. I will be careful around her.”
“You should have let me go after her.”
“For pity’s sake, Owen, what on earth would you have done with her if I had let you catch her? She would have declared the whole thing an accident and pointed out that nothing bad happened. What proof would you have had to offer that the shove was deliberate? And all of this would have taken place in front of an audience of people who do not trust you. It would have been a fiasco.”
He said nothing.
“Well?” Virginia said. “What could you have done?”
“Frightened her out of her wits.”
There was a short, startled silence.
“Yes, well, you can be quite intimidating. I have no doubt but that you could have thrown a good scare into her.”
“I meant literally,” he said very softly. “It is part of my talent. I could have gone further. I could have frightened her to death.”
“Oh.” Virginia cleared her throat. “I see. Have you ever actually—”
“Yes.”
“But only monsters.”
“Yes.”
“Adriana Walters may be a problem, but she is not one of the monsters.”
“They hide in plain sight, Virginia. That is what makes them so bloody dangerous.”
“Which is why you need proof before you take such permanent action. You have no proof to use against Adriana.”
Owen tapped his fingers against the seat and switched his attention to the street scene outside the window. “You’re right, of course.”
There was a long silence.
“I do appreciate that you have committed yourself to protecting me while you hunt for the killer,” Virginia said after a while.
He turned his head to look at her. “I would walk into hell to keep you safe.”
There was a short, shocked silence.
“Owen,” she whispered.
Tension, desire and a lot of hot but unfocused energy shimmered invisibly in the atmosphere. He dragged the carriage curtains shut and reached for Virginia. He drew her toward him, opening his legs to make room for the waterfall of skirts and petticoats between his thighs.
“You cannot begin to guess how much I want you,” he said.
He pushed back the hood of her cloak, caught her face between his hands and kissed her, hard and deeply.
She returned the kiss with sweet, feminine excitement. His blood was already running hot in his veins, a volatile brew of sexual desire seasoned with the fierce, elemental need to protect Virginia. The knowledge that she wanted him brought the temperature to the scalding point.
He released her face and slipped his hands beneath the folds of her cloak. He found the hooks of the bodice and began to undo them one by one. She clutched his shoulder and made a soft, urgent little sound.
“Damned bustle,” he muttered a short time later. “How the devil do women manage with the things?”
Her laugh was soft, husky and sensual. “Carefully, Mr. Sweetwater. Very, very carefully.”
He would have taken her there in the dark, intimate confines of the cab, the bustle be damned, but for the unfortunate fact that the drive to her town house was far too short for what he had in mind. Nevertheless he could not restrain his passions entirely. By the time the carriage halted in front of Number Seven, the interior of the cab was as humid and scented as an overheated stillroom filled with exotic herbs and mysterious spices.
Virginia’s hair had come free of her tightly pinned chignon, and he had one hand inside the partially undone gown. His own clothing was also in disarray. His tie hung loose around his neck, the front of his waistcoat was open, and so was the collar of his shirt. He was as hard, if not harder, than he had ever been in his life, with the possible exception of the last time that he had made love to Virginia.
“It seems we have