Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(91)
I rolled my eyes at that. “How exceptionally sentimental. Believing your affection for me was nothing more than an in fection.”
His laugh erased my remaining worry with its warmth. I all but forgot about the maelstrom in my head. “I had an inclination that you might feel that way.
Which is why I penned this for you instead.”
I stared at him for a moment, pulse pounding. “You wrote something for me?”
He pulled a small cream envelope from his pocket, his expression bordering on bashful as he handed it to me. My name was written with care—the script more beautiful than his usual hurried writing. A lovely flush crept up his collar.
Curious as to what would bring about such an unusual emotion in him, I quickly opened it and read.
My dearest Audrey Rose,
Poems and sonnets are meant to rhyme, but I find myself unable to pen anything other than the deepest longing of my soul. My world had been dark. I was so used to it that I’d grown accustomed to traversing through the lonely stretches of desolate land.
When you entered my life, you shone brighter than the sun and stars combined. You warmed the frozen parts of me I’d feared were incapable of thawing. I’d been convinced I had a heart carved from ice until you smiled… and then it began to beat wildly. I cannot imagine my world without you in it now, because you are my entire universe.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Wadsworth. You are and will forever remain my truest and only love. I hope, though I have no right to, that you will be mine. As I will always be
Yours forever,
Thomas
My eyes brimmed with unshed tears and I clamped my jaws together to keep from crying. I didn’t think the proper way of thanking him for his thoughtfulness was to snot all over his suit. Horror washed into Thomas’s features. I tensed, unsure what had brought on his sudden shift.
“I-I didn’t mean… you don’t have to—” He ran a hand through his hair, tousling his dark locks. “It’s all right if you don’t want to be mine. I-I understand our circumstances aren’t ideal. It’s—”
Relief sluiced through me. He’d misunderstood the source of my tears. It was incredible that his powers of deduction were so lost when it came to reading my emotions. I touched his face gently, my hand fitting around the curve of his cheek, and brought his lips to mine. Showing him, without words, how much he meant to me.
Thomas needed no further explanation. He deepened our kiss, his hands gripping me tighter—but not uncomfortably so—as he closed the space between us. Whenever he held me like that, with his body molded so perfectly against mine, I swore I lost my senses. The world and all its problems settled into a corner far away. There were only the two of us.
I nipped at his bottom lip and his eyes shifted to a molten chocolate that started a fire deep within me. He scooped me into his arms, knocking my cane over in his haste to exit the room and any possible interruptions from the
footmen should they come to check on our dinner.
We were fortunate to have made it upstairs to my chambers before we expressed our love more thoroughly. I yanked his shirt open, buttons popping in all directions, and gave him an impish grin as he set me on the bed. He seemed anything but disturbed by my exuberance as he returned the favor and relieved me of my corset. Tonight he didn’t bother with slowly pulling its strings; he practically ripped it apart.
I traced the outline of his tattoo first with my fingertips and then with my lips, never tiring of the way he gasped beneath my careful touch.
If I lived to be one thousand years old, it would never feel like enough time with him.
“I love you, Audrey Rose. More than all the stars in the universe.”
Thomas erased all space between us and gazed down at me as if I were the most perfect person in existence. When he kissed me again, it was so sweet I nearly forgot my own name. It was a good thing he kept whispering it across my skin.
I lightly trailed my nails down his spine and back up, marveling at the goose bumps that rose, the sensation seeming to drive him as wild as it drove me. He repeated my name like an incantation, his tone as reverent as those praising gods. He worshipped my mind and body until I, too, became a believer. Then he brought us both to another realm—one where we were nothing more than love in its purest physical form.
Hours later, after we’d professed our adoration—and while I lay cradled in the safety of Thomas’s arms—the devil stood waiting for me. Silent and watchful as always, as he welcomed me back to his dominion of darkness.
THIRTY-NINE
STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE
1220 WRIGHTWOOD AVENUE
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
15 FEBRUARY 1889
“Miss Wadsworth!” Minnie greeted me warmly at the door. “It’s so lovely of you to call on me. Tell me, have you heard from Mephistopheles? I haven’t been able to locate that scoundrel anywhere.”
It was quite an odd opening, but I handed my cloak to the maid and shook my head. “I’m afraid I haven’t spoken with him since I last saw him with you.” I studied her expression, the nibbling of her lower lip, the crease in her brow. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m sure it is. I just heard a rumor that my understudy hasn’t been seen for ages. It’s a bit strange, given how much she loved playing that role.” She brightened up again. “Come. Harry’s allowed me to decorate the parlor to my liking. Shall we take some tea and coffee there?”