Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(74)

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she said simply, because it was true. The work necessary to understand the Greek script made her feel all the more accomplished when she did finish a paragraph.

She waited for a reply from him.

But he shrugged and tossed back the brandy. “Why have you come?”

“To warn you about my brother.” She removed a stack of books from one end of a settee and sat since he made no move to offer. “He knows that you’re distilling gin in St. Giles.”

He stared at her. “That’s it?”

She frowned, her irritation increasing. Didn’t he care about his own safety?

“Isn’t that enough? You must give up your still at once, before Maximus sends soldiers to arrest you.”

He studied the amber liquid in his glass. “No.”

She felt wild frustration rising within her breast. Maximus may have given his word that he wouldn’t act against Griffin, but as long as Griffin had his still, he was in danger. “Whyever not? You’re more than a man who is good at making money, Griffin. So much more. You’re caring and funny and noble. Can’t you see that—”

He looked up at her, and she caught her breath, cutting off her words. His green eyes shone as if with tears.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Nick is dead,” he said. “Nick Barnes. He started the still with me. You may not remember him—he was with me when you saw the still. The big man with the scarred face.”

“I remember.” She remembered that they had seemed to be friends despite the difference in their station. She looked at him. “What happened?”

“Nick went out this morning to get jellied eels.” Griffin made an odd face, half grimace, half smile. “He loved jellied eels. The Vicar’s men shot him and I found him….”

His voice trailed away as he shook his head.

She rose and crossed to him, unable to stay so far away when he was in pain. “I’m sorry.” She took his face between her palms. “I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t leave it now,” he rasped, his pale green eyes intense. “Don’t you see? They murdered Nick. I can’t let them get away with it.”

She bit her lip. “But your life is in danger.”

“And what is it to you?”

Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

He let his glass fall to the carpet, where it rolled under the settee. His hands grasped her shoulders. “What do you care if my life is endangered? Am I a friend you share a bed with? A brother-in-law you’ll invite to your wedding? What, Hero? What am I to you?”

She stared at him, trying to find the words. She cared for him, that much was true, but beyond that she couldn’t tell him. She hadn’t the words to describe her feelings.

She simply didn’t know.

He seemed to understand her dilemma. Frustration warred with despair in his eyes.

“Damn you,” he hissed, and kissed her.

HER LIPS WERE soft and yielding, but that didn’t assuage Griffin’s anger. He wanted to imprint himself upon her. To make her acknowledge that he was more than simply a friend or a potential brother-in-law. To ensure she never forgot him.

He wanted to engrave himself upon her very bones.

His grief and anger over Nick’s death seemed to twist and transform until all he felt was a raw ache for Hero. Right here. Right now.

He arched her over his arm, cruelly putting her off balance as he ravished her mouth. He could feel the clutch of her fingers in his back, but she wasn’t struggling. She made no effort to escape him or his savage plundering of her mouth.

That placated the beast within him a little. He pulled back and looked into her diamond eyes. They were dazed, blurred with sensuous need. He picked her up, ignoring her squeak, and bore her from the library like a rapacious Viking marauder.

Deedle had just entered the hallway. The valet’s mouth dropped open as his master passed.

Griffin shot him a glare, ensuring there would be no unasked-for comments. Then he was mounting the stairs with Hero in his arms.

She buried her face against his chest. “Oh, Lord! He saw us.”

“And he won’t say a damned thing if he wants to keep his position,” Griffin growled.

He strode down the upper corridor and carried her into his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. He flung her down on the bed and immediately began prowling up her supine form.

She looked at him with sleepily erotic eyes and whispered, “But he’ll know what we’re doing in here.”

“Good.” He straddled her, caging her with his body. “Were it up to me, all of London would know what we do here.”

Her eyes widened at his words and he expected protestations. Instead she reached up and ran her palms over his head.

“Griffin,” she said, low and a little sadly. “Oh, Griffin.”

The sadness made his chest hurt, but he wouldn’t have been deterred even if she had argued. Not now. Not this time. A great urgency was building inside of him, a need to complete this with her before it was too late. He tore at the laces to her bodice like a ravening beast.

She didn’t try to stop him but simply lay beneath him and smoothed her hands over his short hair as if to soothe him. He got her bodice open and threw it aside, impatient. Her stays seemed to resist him willfully. He who had never had trouble removing the clothing of any woman.