As they filed through the door, Andrew held his arm out for the blond lady. Will was about to do the same for Mrs. Villaret when she drew out a large set of keys, then locked the door behind them.
He put out his hand. “I’ll take those.”
“What do you need them for?” she asked in a defensive tone laced with suspicion.
“To go back inside again. Youdowant to help the Wivenlys, do you not?”
It was almost impossible to see her face, but her motions were hesitant.
“I’ll figure out a way to return them when I’ve sorted this mess out.”
Reluctantly, she handed them over. “See that you do. They might be missed.”
Before she had a chance to walk off on her own, he tucked her hand around his arm and they followed the others to the main street. A little over half-way to where his hotel was situated, Josh motioned for them to stop. Up ahead, a small group of drunken ruffians stumbled down the street singing songs, but if they saw the women, it could turn ugly.
“Down the alley,” Will ordered as he pulled her around the corner between the buildings, further into the dark than the others.
He pressed Mrs. Villaret against the wall of a building, shielding her from sight. It appeared fate was with him after all. He’d make sure the woman knew she was his. He brushed his lips across hers, trapping her against the wooden structure. Good Lord, she tasted of lemon and honeysuckle. He ran his tongue across the seam of her mouth, and she gasped, opening her lips enough for him to take advantage of her misstep and slide in, claiming her. Running his tongue over her teeth, he tasted before stroking her tongue with his. She was still for a few moments, then she moaned softly and reciprocated, mirroring his caresses, except that her hands gripped the sides of his coat rather than sliding up his shoulders and around his neck as most women would do.
God, she tasted better than the finest wine. Her lush body finally sank against his, and he cupped her bottom, holding her to him. With his other hand, he stroked the underside of one breast, brushing the tight bud of her nipple, and was rewarded with a sigh. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be beneath him, naked, where he’d learn every inch of her.
All too soon the men had passed, and Will lifted his head, reluctantly breaking the kiss. He would have gladly remained there for much longer. If he could have seen her expression, he knew her eyes would be glazed with desire. “Come, it’s safe now.”
She touched the tips of her fingers to her lips and nodded slightly.
Obviously, it had either been a long while since she’d been properly kissed, or her husband had been a lout, unconcerned with her pleasure. If that was the case, Will would take great delight in teaching her the joys of the flesh. He might even take her back to England with him. He twined his arm with Mrs. Villaret’s as they caught up with Andrew and his lady.
When his little group reached one of Charlotte Amalie’s many stair streets, the Ninety-Nine Steps, Mrs. Villaret held her hand out. It trembled a little. “G-Good night. We can go safely from here.”
That’s what she thought. Will wasn’t letting her out of his sight until he had to. “We are perfectly happy to accompany you the rest of the way.”
One slender shoulder lifted in an eloquent French shrug. “As you wish.”
As silently as possible, they climbed. The smallest noise seemed louder the higher they went.
Suddenly the blonde stopped and her footman opened a door built into a wall.
Mrs. Villaret tugged her hand from his grip. “Now you must leave. Please be quiet going back down. No one can know you were here.”
“Very well.” Will lifted her fingers to his lips and lowered his voice to a seductive whisper. “Sleep well.”
If he only had a few more moments alone with her, he’d ensure she’d dream of him.
She turned from him and fled through the door, following Josh and the blonde. After it closed and the lock snicked into place, he and Andrew made their way back down the stairs.
They refrained from speaking until they had almost reached the hotel.
“This,” Will said, “has been an interesting evening. Not that I’m complaining, but I don’t understand why the scoundrel kept a diary.”
“Some men are obsessive about keeping a record of everything they do. He wouldn’t be the first man who’d been caught due to his compulsion.”
At least the journal made it easier for Will to deal with Howden. “What did you find in the diary?”
“A merchant by the name of Edgar Shipley is behind the conspiracy to make Mrs. Wivenly think the business is broke. He also has hopes of marrying her daughter.”
So that was Mr. S. Will’s fist clenched. “Does he indeed?”
“You can easily see how he might believe it would work,” Andrew said thoughtfully. “A wealthy man offers security to a family by marrying a daughter. It occurs often enough.”
