the costume shop?
“How can we continue when we need Mr Golding to act as a witness?”
Mr Sloane gestured for her to exit the room and he followed. “The villain has us chasing our tails, running this way and that, achieving nothing in the process.” His stilted speech conveyed his frustration. “No, we’ve lingered in the background long enough. It’s time to whip up a storm.”
The determination in his voice stole her breath. There was nothing more attractive than a man who knew when to take command of the reins.
“What are we to do?”
He placed a hand at her back and guided her to the stairs. “We’ll call at the Hatton Garden police office, it’s closest, and make them aware of what’s occurred here. Then we’ll call at the costume shop before returning to Keel Hall. We need the sealed note if we’re to visit Mr Howarth. Golding’s disappearance is connected to our case, and so we must assume the worst.”
What if the poor man had suffered while protecting their legacy?
“We have no need to visit Keel Hall.” Did he honestly think she’d leave such an important letter for the intruder to find? “I have the sealed letter on my person.”
His curious gaze raked over her from neck to navel. “So you slipped it into your thigh belt.”
“No. It’s not in my thigh belt.”
“You’re hiding it in another secret place?” His low voice sounded lascivious.
“I am.”
“Can I ask where? Should we encounter a problem en route, I might need to retrieve the important document.”
Vivienne suppressed a chuckle. “It’s wedged securely between my shift and stays.”
Mr Sloane swallowed deeply and dared to glance at her bosom. “For an innocent, you’re rather skilled in the art of flirtation. I believe you gain pleasure from provoking me, madam, and won’t rest until you have me on my knees.”
She found these flashes of vulnerability as captivating as his powerful persona. Who wouldn’t want such a masterful man at their mercy?
“The fault lies with you, Mr Sloane, for you have read something more into an innocent statement.”
“There’s nothing more arousing than your innocence, Miss Hart. Though I wonder how you intend to retrieve the note while sitting in a closed carriage with me.”
“I have every faith you will do what is right.”
“What, be a gentleman and offer my assistance?”
“No. Close your eyes.”
The rich red walls and dazzling array of vibrant gowns in Mrs Mulligan’s costume shop would put anyone in mind for a party. Vivienne admired an exquisite Elizabethan dress of orange taffeta teamed with a black velvet gable hood. Swathed in such sophistication, a lady would command everyone’s attention.
“Pick something less cumbersome,” Mr Sloane whispered from behind. “It would take an age to strip you out of that one, and I would prefer to focus my attention on more pleasurable pursuits.”
He was teasing her again, using shameless comments to incite a reaction. Did he not know every word from his mouth stirred her senses? He could list a ship’s cargo and make it sound erotic. And the mere fact he stood so close turned her mind to mush.
“A man with your skill surely has nimble fingers.”
Vivienne swung around to face him, and her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t the tricorn hat perched rakishly on his head that made her heart thud. Nor was it the black mask covering the upper half of his face. It was the way his sinful mouth curled into a mischievous grin.
“Keep the hat. It makes you look like a marauding pirate.” The urge to kiss away his confidence pulsed in her veins. “Discard the mask. I wish to look into my husband’s eyes when he’s focused on pleasurable pursuits.”
The air sparked to life.
Mr Sloane’s sharp inhalation made her giddy. He tore off the mask, pinned her to the spot with his indecent gaze. “When writhing beneath me, Vivienne, you won’t give a damn what I’m wearing.”
Mother Mary! Heat settled low and heavy between her thighs. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t form a word.
Mr Sloane glanced over his shoulder at Mrs Mulligan, who was busy serving the only other customer in the small shop. Then he pressed his fingertip to the top button on her pelisse.
“Do you want to know why I’ve not tried to kiss you, Vivienne?” Slowly, he circled the button as if it were a sensitive part of her anatomy. “Because the next time you permit me to devour your mouth, we’ll not stop there. We’ll be lovers before we’re husband and wife.”
Lovers?
The word