Colin frowned. In all the time he’d known Wilkes he’d never heard him this disconcerted. Scrutinizing the man, he saw him slowly gain his wits.
“What is wrong with you, Wilkes?”
“It…that…Najja.”
Her name was said on a soft sigh. Jealousy overtook him before he knew what happened. Eyes flickered between Wilkes and Najja. Her face gave nothing away; in fact she turned away back to the dancing. The image of Wilkes touching her...
“How do you know her?” he growled, struggling not to wrap his hands around Wilkes’ neck.
“I had heard…and seen…but assumed it to be naught but a rumor.” Disbelief and awe coated his words.
“What
are
you going on about?” Now he was holding onto his control by a mere thread.
“In India, I heard it, years ago. And again in a different place I saw her. She…is rumored to be an assassin.”
He choked on the incredulity of such a claim. “Do not be daft.”
“I swear, Colin. I have seen the end result of her work.”
There was only honesty in Wilkes’ voice.
“How so?” Colin didn’t want to believe it.
“She was in the court, at both places. Then someone turned up dead. She had vanished.” Wilkes scratched his head. “One night in India, after a party with a sultan, one of the guards got too deep in his cups and told how she had been sent there to learn things…of all sorts. Things involving death.”
It sounded too crazy to believe. And yet…
“Did you meet her?”
“I was introduced in…well it does not matter. She…she was so young then.”
His stomach rolled at the thought of her with Wilkes. Others gathered nearer to them and he forced a smile. “We need to finish this discussion.”
“I will be there tonight,” Wilkes stated. “Be cautious.” As he had arrived, Wilkes faded away with silence.
His mind whirled with the implications. Smothering a groan he sought out Najja. She no longer stood where he’d last seen her. He breathed a bit easier when he located Jo, she looked like a forest sprite, her hair coming loose gave her an air of sensuality. She would be breaking hearts in the ton.
If she can curb her tongue.
But he liked her bluntness.
Off to the side, almost hidden completely by shadows stood the woman he searched for. Following her line of sight, he found she watched Jo. In a swift and decisive manner he slid around to come up behind Najja.
He paused a short distance back from her, ogling what he could see in the shadowed light. His hands itched to caress the curves simmering below her understated attire. He’d seen flashes of a small ankle, despite her normally wearing boots, and on occasion her skirts were drawn tight over the curvature of her derriere.
With a gulp he wiped the beads of sweat which had popped upon his brow despite the algidity of the air temperature. More in control he stepped just shy of flush to her. The scent unique only to her circumnavigated him immediately, breathing new life into the emotional charge she provided him. Who knew spiced roses and vanilla could make a man entertain the notion of forever.
“Why are you hiding?” he asked in susurration.
She didn’t even start. “I am not hiding. I am observing.”
He closed the fractional distance and nearly groaned at the way she felt against him. Along her hips he rested his gloved hands, wishing with zeal there was naught between them aside from skin. Her waist wasn’t as tiny as fashion deemed preferable but he loved it. He held a woman, not a schoolroom chit.
Keeping an eye on the festivities and people before them, he moved his fingers in small circles. She shuddered beneath his touch.
She is not as immune to me
as she would like me to believe.
“You have no desire to dance?”
“No.”
“I do,” he admitted. “But the type I want to do with you requires a lot fewer clothes.”
“Really?” Did he imagine it or was there a catch in her voice?
“Really,” he whispered in her ear before trailing his tongue along the lobe. He was so hard his vision flickered. She even tasted delectable. “I want to do all kinds of things to you, Najja. All kinds.”
Her breathing accelerated. “Wicked things?”
“Very wicked,” he promised, pulling her tighter to the hard ridge in his breeches.
She undulated her hips, verging on the rod he sported. This time he did groan.
“I want you, luv.” His hips responded instinctively to her motion.
“Hmm,” she uttered, totally noncommittal before she broke contact.
His growl of displeasure, seconds from escape, calmed at the knowledge Jo approached.
“What are you two doing here?” Jo asked, not so innocently.
“Mr. Faulkner and I were discussing that we should get back.” Jo sighed and Najja added, “He has an estate to run, Jo. He has other things to do than escort us about.”
“Of course,” Jo said immediately. “Thank you for allowing us to attend this.”
He stepped from behind Najja, one hand trailing familiarly along the tempting ass she had. “Colin,” he corrected offering Jo his arm, “and it was my pleasure.”
Najja seemed to retreat into herself as they made their way back to his home. She vanished up to her room quickly after they arrived. He wanted to follow her up there so much; unfortunately Abel told him he had a visitor.
Wilkes.
A few hours and much information later he left the study with Wilkes to walk him to the door. His mind whirled with what Wilkes had imparted to him. They both froze when they spotted Najja poised at the entrance to the library. As he had at the festival he glanced between them, that unpleasant wave of jealousy rising again.
Wilkes stepped toward her and bowed. The words he spoke, Colin didn’t understand. He knew Najja did when she also bowed and responded, her voice low, gaze straight forward. His mood sank even lower when they exchanged smiles.
She finally placed her eyes upon him. “Good night, Mr. Faulkner. Thank you for a lovely evening.” Without so much as another word she ascended the stairs and vanished from view without a single glance back.
“Stay away from her,” he growled, gaze still focused on the spot he’d seen Najja last.
“Stay away…bloody hell, Colin. Are you…do you…Najja?” Wilkes asked in astonishment.
He was fairly certain flames leapt from his eyes the way Wilkes stepped back. “What?”
“Did you even hear one thing I said in there?” Wilkes demanded.
“I heard.”
Wilkes sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Who you pursue is your business, chap. Can I suggest you ask her about the hijacking? She may have some ideas from the places she has been.”
He filed that away. “Wilkes.”
“What Colin?”
“Have you ever…with Najja?”
“Lud, you have it bad. No. In fact I never saw her leave with a man in that vein. I watched her dance, she was damned good at it, but…look, just be careful.”
“You think I would let a woman get the upper hand?”
Wilkes met his gaze head on while he shoved his arms into an old tatty coat. “I think she already has. I have never seen you like this, Colin and I have known you since we both wore little britches. We have been friends since before my father wasted our fortune and turned us into fodder for amusement in the Beau Monde.” His tone cut sharp.
“You know you only--”
One hand waved in dismissal. “I know. This is not about me asking you for help, Colin. Besides, I am doing fine, the downfall of my family name works well with my cover. My point is I have never seen you watch a woman with such possessive hunger or heat before.”
Colin listened to his friend talk, but in truth his thoughts had again returned to Najja. He mentally went through her disrobing and getting ready for bed. Damn. He hardened.
“I can see this is a hopeless cause,” Wilkes stated. “Good night my friend.”
Wilkes left out the back where his horse waited. Colin sighed. He turned back to his study but changed his mind and hurried up the stairs. Berry waited in his chamber.
“Go to bed, Berry.”
“Anything you need before, sir?”
“No. Get some rest.”
“Very good sir.” Berry vanished.
Alone, Colin began to undress but paused when his shirt hung open and over his black breeches. Before he could reason with himself or talk himself out of it, he found himself standing in the dark hall outside Najja’s room.
Slowly, he turned the handle and slipped into the room. As it clicked softly, he waited for his eyes to adjust, the glowing embers of the banked fire offered only a little light. He was nervous, sneaking around brought back memories of being young and full of himself.
“Mr. Faulkner,” a slow drawl came from his right, even more pronounced was the accent and it slid along his skin, leaving him wanting. “What are you doing in here?”
She became visible in his peripheral and the fleeting glance was more than enough to shove all remaining air from his lungs.
Bloody hell!
All the blood rushed to his groin. She wore a white top which showed off her midsection courtesy of the way it was cut. The neckline dipped down to a point exposing the swells of her breasts and the bottom of the blouse rose to a point as well. Then she wore a pair of black long pantaloons. Her feet were bare. Along one side of her belly he saw what looked like to be scars.
Lust broadsided him so hard he nearly collapsed. Lord; had he known
this
was the body she kept hidden beneath those drab dresses…
“What are you wearing?” The question sounded more like a croak.
“Blouse and kurta. I prefer this to the dresses which are important in your society. You have yet to answer my question. What are you doing in here?” She stared at him with hunger in her eyes and yet he could see it was very contained. He wanted to break those walls and release it to be reveled in.
Her hair sat gathered in a loose twist down her back. He longed to free it, feel it tumble about his skin, wrap his hands in it while he plundered her mouth, feel it trail over his thighs as he... With difficulty he focused on her face. He longed to explore her body.
“Colin,” he said, voice silvered with want as he approached her.
“Very well. What are you doing here, Colin?”
He gripped her arms and backed her against the door. Lowering his head by hers so their lips were barely separated he allowed himself one more moment of bliss. Her satin-like skin rested beneath his fingers, her alluring scent poured around him. He hovered on the brink between heaven and hell.
In a guttural voice, he said, “I have come for my kiss, luv.”
Chapter Four
Najja gulped, her heart pounded harder than it did when she finished a training routine. Colin was so close to her, she could feel the heat from his body rolling over her. His shirt hung untucked and open, exposing his solid torso to her. She was more than used to seeing men go around without shirts on but none had made her long to touch them. His body was all roped muscle, with defined ridges and cuts. Amazingly it glowed with the same golden hue as the rest of him, a little hair dusted the taut skin. His breeches only amplified things her dreams had created.
“Then…then you ensure Jo is well taken care of when I am gone?”
He stiffened but nodded. “I will.”
“Very well then,” she murmured.
He touched her chin and lifted her gaze to his. The firelight gleamed off burning green eyes. Never had a man stared at her with such raw hunger before. Her body reacted in ways which were also new.
“This is not a death sentence, luv.”
Her belly clenched and her breasts tightened, craving to feel the heavy weight of his hands upon them. All over her for that matter.
“I never said that it was.”
His earring glinted in the light. Her eyes strayed to his lips before moving up to his eyes, which were no less heated as they stared at her. “Unbind your hair,” he rasped.
Licking her lips, she reached behind her and undid the tie holding it. His breathing grew harsh as he watched. There was almost no room between them so each movement she made brushed her breasts along his bared chest.
“You have a lot of earrings.” He trailed a finger along the outside of her left ear, touching each of the six holes she had silver in.
“Yes.”
“Do they mean something special?” He moved to the right ear and touched each of those. Five this time. “And why only five on this side?”
His touch drove her to distraction, she could hardly focus on the questions. “Father did them.” She gulped when his touch drifted back to touch the skin behind her ear. “I do not know why five on one side.”
“Is it common for the women of your tribe?”
His fingers moved down the side of her neck, skimming along the pulse there, and continuing to her bared shoulder. She wanted his touch everywhere. Pressing back against the door she laid her palms flat against the wood, desperately seeking some way of regaining her wits.