her alone, quietly, he continued. “This is not finished between us, Josie.”
“Why are you calling me Josie?” she whispered.
“Because it suits you, and I like it.”
He did not know where the diminutive of her name had emerged from earlier, but having spoken it once, he could not deny how right it felt on his tongue. The idea of having another name for her that was his alone appealed. He would fret over that perplexing development later.
Her fingers were flying over her coiffure, assessing the damage. “Oh, heavens. This is dreadful.”
“Allow me,” he said, spinning her around without awaiting her response.
Mr. Levi Storm was a hideously wealthy, brilliant American businessman and inventor whose forays into electricity held incredible promise. He was not a man one kept waiting. Bloody hell, who did Decker think he was fooling? The real reason for hurrying Jo from his office was to save her reputation—and innocence—from a hasty deflowering. The first time he took her, he wanted it to be private, in a bed. He wanted to have all damned night long. No interruptions.
How the hell he was going to manage such a feat when thus far, he had only managed to steal her for too-brief chunks of time, was a puzzle he had yet to decipher.
Decker managed to right her coiffure. At least to a passable state. When he had finished, he could not keep himself from settling his hands back on her waist and leaning into her. The crush of her skirts against his trousers taunted his aching cock. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, and then he kissed her ear, the side of her neck.
“I will send a note to you,” he muttered against her skin, before sucking.
She was so silken, so divine. Even her throat drove him to the edge of control. It was soft and creamy, smooth as velvet. He did not want to let her go.
But he had to.
Reluctantly, he released her.
She spun around, her expression as dazed as he felt. “I will await your note, but do not think I have forgotten, Decker. This conversation will continue.”
Of course she had not forgotten. And of course she wanted to further discuss it. Quite like a female, her persistence, her desire to find the best in him when he knew damn well there was none. Somehow, he found it adorable in this particular woman rather than an irritant.
“There is nothing to continue,” he said.
“Oh, yes there is,” she returned.
He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away.
“Await my note,” he told her tersely instead.
“You are a good man, Mr. Elijah Decker,” she shot back. “But never fear, your secret is safe with me.”
With those parting words, she turned and swept from his office. The door closed before he could argue or disabuse her of her misguided fancies.
Because he was not a good man, especially not where Jo was concerned. And sooner or later, she would learn that undeniable truth herself.
The hard way.
Chapter Nine
Just when Jo had begun to fear she would have to go another night without seeing Decker, the note arrived. It was after tea, and the missive was hidden within a letter from his publishing company concerning the publication of the last pamphlet she had delivered for the Lady’s Suffrage Society.
Tonight.
Half past eight.
D.
From the moment she had read those scant words and seen his beautiful, masculine scrawl, her heart had been pounding with exuberant anticipation. Decker haunted her every thought. She had spent the entirety of the day preoccupied with thoughts of him. Of his kisses. She had been on edge, laden with anticipation, wondering when his next note would arrive. Until, at long last, it had.
And now, she was on her way back to him.
This evening’s escape had proven more treacherous than the previous two occasions upon which she had made her way out of her brother’s townhome in the night. Julian and Clara were in residence this evening. She had shared dinner with them and then professed she was tired and in need of some additional rest.
Although it was perhaps down to her inner anxiety at sneaking out with the two of them at home, Jo had sworn her sister-in-law had frowned and that her gaze had not been merely understanding but searching as well. Julian, who had eyes only for his wife, had scarcely seemed to take note of her premature exit.
As Jo slipped into the mews at the appointed hour, it