Felix was incomplete agreement. As soon as they could get away from Hayton House, he intended to flee, and he might never return. He didn’t want to, in truth. But it was his responsibility to see that it remained standing, that it continued to function, and that whatever was housed within it remained firmly locked within its walls.
Moving toward the stairwell, they climbed down to the next level, taking each step cautiously. It wasn’t simply the risk of falling, though that wasn’t truly dire. It was also the risk of discovery. Even the creaking of a step could give them away.
When, at long last, they reached the corridor that contained the rooms belonging to the Denworthy siblings, he raised his finger to his lips, indicating that they should remain quiet. Miss Fortune simply nodded, clearly understanding why discretion was so important.
And then they began to search, moving methodically along the corridor, listening outside every door for even the slightest noise, the slightest hint that perhaps Miss Burnham was heldwithin. But when they neared the end of the corridor, panic struck.
At the far end—well away from them, but given how brightly lit that corridor was, still well within sight—a door opened.
Felix didn’t hesitate. He didn’t think. He turned out the lamp, casting them in shadow, and pulled Miss Fortune with him into a small alcove. An ancient bust of some unknown ancestor wobbled precariously on its pedestal, but he steadied it.
And there they stood, huddled together in that small space, far closer to one another than was appropriate. He could smell the soft scent of lilacs that clung to her skin, something with a faint hint of lemon. She smelled delectable, alluring, enticing. And he was forced to face the uncomfortable fact that he found her more than just attractive. He found her seductive. Without guile, without artifice, without effort, she had lured him like a siren, and he very much feared that he was lost.
*
Caris wasn’t entirelysure what had happened. One moment, they’d been standing in the middle of the corridor. The next, he’d grasped her hand and pulled her into the alcove. And now they stood, huddled together in the dark—disturbingly close to one another.
She could feel the heat from his large frame, even through the layers of clothing that separated them. And it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation—not at all. In fact, she found herself fighting the urge to step closer still, to lean into the warmth and strength of him.
What had happened to her? What, in the name of God, had gotten into her? She knew better than to behave in such a manner. And then she looked up. Instantly, she knew it was a mistake—because he was looking at her in a way that lefther breathless. In a way that built anticipation within her, as if something truly momentous was about to occur.
“My lord,” she said, not certain how to even address what was happening between them.
And then he looked at her and said, “My name is Felix. I would prefer very much if you called me by my name. In fact, I can’t think of anything I desire more right now than to hear it falling from your lips.”
Caris made a small sound of equal parts pleasure and dismay. “What is this?”
“I believe,” he said, “it is attraction. I knew the moment I saw you that you were lovely. This is more than simply appreciating your appearance. This is more than simply admiring the symmetry of your features. This is something more instinctive, more primal than that. There are times when you meet someone and there’s simply a spark between you—a connection that cannot be denied. And I felt that, but I didn’t expect you to feel it in return. But you do. Don’t you, Caris?”
In that moment, when he whispered her own name to her, she understood why he wished for her to say his. It created a kind of intimacy, a connection between them that went far beyond the polite, stilted conversation that happened while in the company of others. Using their given names implied a closeness that was undeniable—and far too tempting.
He leaned in, dipping his head until there was hardly a breath of space between them. And there was a question in his gaze, because he didn’t move any further—and he wouldn’t until she gave some indication that she wished for him to.
It was instinct, impulse, possibly insanity. But Caris rose on her tiptoes, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt, and with no small amount of nervousness, pressed her lips to his.
And the sensation—the physical sensation of that kiss, of having his lips moving against hers, of tasting the brandy thathe had had earlier that night, of being enveloped by the heat of him as his arms closed around her—was not at all what she had expected.
Kissing, she had thought, was something that would be nice. But this wasn’t nice. This was hungry and demanding. That very first touch, and it felt as though it would never be enough.
And then, in a split second, that sensual spell was broken. A scream split the night—loud, filled with terror—and all too familiar.
Grace.
It was Grace. And wherever she was, she was terrified.
*
His heart racedas they sprinted along the corridor in the direction of the scream. And doors opened along the corridor, others emerging with curiosity but no real concern. Likely because they were used to the sound of women screaming in the night when sharing a residence with Alistair. Even in his frenetic rush, Felix was aware of the stares being directed at them.
When he reached the room that had been assigned to Alistair, he didn’t knock. Instead, he kicked the door open and found absolutely nothing. Alistair was there, a smirk on his face, but Miss Burnham was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is she?”
“I’ve no idea what you mean, Grimsleigh,” Alistair replied. “There is no one here but me… or rather there wasn’t until you forced your way in. A better question might be what you and Miss Fortune are doing skulking about together in the dark.”
Felix didn’t take the bait. Instead, he turned and walked from the room. Making his way along the corridor, he threw open the door of every room they passed, but they were all undeniably empty, the air of desolation evident. And then they reached theend of the corridor, and the room there was locked. He pounded on it and heard a muffled cry from behind it.
“Help me kick it down,” he snapped at the other men present.
