Page 58 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“The Duke of Death,” murmured Kit, clearly remembering meeting Fawkes. “Blackrose set that all up, even when his brother was helping him?”
“Aye, well, arseholes are going to arsehole, eh?” Sighing, Thorne shifted forward so her fingers could move around to his temples. “So now he holds the power and the right connections.”
Kit’s touch turned lighter, tracing the outer edge of each ear. “But the evidence against Blackrose? A title shouldn’t matter in the face of that.”
A shudder went down Thorne’s spine and settled in his cock. Who knew thatearswere erogenous zones? “Spoken like an American, love. We cannae accuse him, no’ yet. We need a trap. Hence the code.”
Kit, bless her, picked up on the implications immediately. “So if you use the code in the same way Blackrose’s brother did, then…then he’ll think his brother confided in someone.”
“Exactly,” Thorne hummed. “We use the code to provide information only his brother could have known, and arrange to set up a meeting.”
“Why not just ask his daughter? Danielle?” Her fingertips were now stroking the side of his neck.
“Danielle is married to Blackrose’s ex-poisoner. Her sister Georgia is married to another one of Blackrose’s ex-spies—coincidentally, the Duke of Lickwick, although the bastard rarely shows his face in London.”
“So if you use information Blackrose believes might have come from either of his nieces, he’ll also suspect them, and your group, of being involved?”
“I kenned ye were brilliant,” Thorne crowed, snagging her hand and pulling her around the chair. “So we need access to Blackrose’s estate, where his brother’s information would be held.”
At his urging, Kit settled between his legs. When he wrapped his arms around her middle, he could bury his face between her tits as she ran her fingers through his hair.
It was a favorite position of his—made him feel surrounded by her—but surreal as hell, what with the waistcoat and necktie. “I dinnae suppose we could get rid of these?” he murmured, his words muffled by the wool.
She chuckled, but to his surprise, began the complex twisting to shrug out of her jacket while he held her in this position. “Have you come up with a way to get into Blackrose’s estate?”
When Kit loosened her necktie, Thorne raised his head. “I think…we might…I think our plan—are ye doing what I hope ye’re doing?”
She paused to grin down at him. “Thorne, you are overworked and far too stressed. You have taken on too much.”
The golden skin at the base of her throat was exposed to his vision now, Thorne’s mouth watering at the sight. “I have to,” he said vaguely, distracted as all hell.
But she clamped her hands on his jaw, tipping his head back until he met her eyes. “Thorne. Youdo not have to do this alone.”
He stared, not understanding.
She gave him the smallest of shakes. “You’re not alone. You have your friends. You haveme.”
“Do I?” he whispered.
It was an unspoken dare. A dare to her to tell him that she was doing this because she was his valet. Because it was herdutyto care about her employer’s well-being.
But instead, her lips parted, and Kit whispered, “Always.”
When she bent to kiss him, Thorne was already surging upward to meet her.
Chapter 12
It had beenthe way Thorne’s eyes had gleamed when he’d watched Kit unbutton her waistcoat;thathad been what had caused her heart to speed up. Admittedly, she’d been teasing him slightly, her weight in his lap, the way she slowly pulled her necktie away from her throat…
But by the time her lips claimed his, she was ready for him.
You have me.
Do I?
Always.
If someone had asked her, ten minutes ago, why she was doing her best to ensure Thorne was feeling good, she would have said it was because she was the man’s personal companion. That was the role of a valet. It was herjobto make him feel better, if he was hurting in any way.
