A Dangerous Liaison With Detective Lewis by Jillian Stone Page B

contraptions whose sole purpose is to repress women.”
    He scoffed. “Can a corset be any more tragic than that thing I just hung on the door?”
    She yawned. “Women’s fashion is always a bit ridiculous.”
    “In defense of Detective Lewis, his only care is for your comfort. And I would like to point out he traveled all the way up from London to guard Miss Greyville-Nugent with his life. And very appropriately warn her of the danger she might be facing.” He snuggled up closer.
    She squirmed in his arms, grinding against him. “What is that?”
    He muffled a snort against the fine hairs of her temple. “A good guess would be my cock.” He made an adjustmentto his trousers. “Actually I’m quite certain of it.”
    A quick twist of her torso brought her face within inches of his. “Does this sort of vulgar discourse dazzle the ladies in London?” Her glare lingered even after she turned her back.
    Rafe grinned. “You seem to believe I do nothing but mingle with the nobs. Attend teas, musicales, and soirees. Let me assure you, Fanny, I have no social life to speak of.”
    “Curious how you neglect to mention gentlemen’s clubs, casinos, and houses of ill repute.” She punched up her pillow.
    Astonishing, really, that he could find himself lying in bed with Fanny Greyville-Nugent and not make love to her. As if in answer to a second wave of bewildering arousal and frustration, a round little bottom brushed up against him. Her whisper taunted from the land of Nod. “Our truce is over the moment I awake tomorrow.”

Chapter Eight
    A n eye fluttered open, the one not buried in a pillow. Pale light spilled across the tall figure of a man standing near the window. Fanny lifted her head and rubbed both eyes.
    “Good morning, Lieutenant Cutthroat.”
    She knew that voice. Fanny sat up with a start.
    Raphael Lewis of all people, held back a shabby curtain. The splash of carriage wheels and clip-clop of horses echoed from the street below. With each waking blink the disturbing events of the last two days flooded her mind. “I asked you not to call me that.” Propped on elbows, she yawned. “It’s all true then, isn’t it?
    “What, darling?”
    “The funeral. Yesterday. Last night. I was hoping it was all a nightmare. And I much prefer Lieutenant Cutthroat to darling.” Rumpled and stiff, she found herself in a strange bed and characterless room, with the exception of Rafe Lewis.
    He took his eyes off the street and met her frown with a grin. “Are you always prickly in the morning?”
    Cool air drifted into the unfamiliar surroundings. “Rafe, what is going on? I feel as though I’ve tumbled down a rabbit hole.”
    “Perhaps we have.” He fixed his gaze out the window. “It’s imperative I get to a telegraph office and contact the Yard. Zeno and Flynn may have a few pieces of the puzzle put together by now. Who’s after you—what we’re up against.” Rafe left his post and crossed the room. He removed the chair wedged under the doorknob and checked the passageway. “Last night on the train you asked about a plan.” He ducked back inside the room and returned to the window. “My plan, at the moment, is to make our way to the shipyards in Glasgow. We have agents stationed there and a safe house.”
    “But—couldn’t we simply go to the authorities here and explain our situation?”
    “Rain’s letting up.” He released the curtain. “Last night, I observed our natty friends in black searching alongside the local constables. What did you see, Fanny?”
    “You’re saying the Broxburn police can’t be trusted.” She chewed her lip.
    Rafe shrugged. “More likely they’ve been misled.” He removed a pink and white striped paper sack from his pocket and picked out a peppermint. “Breakfast.”
    She swirled the candy lozenge around in her mouth. “I need to use the chamber pot.”
    “Ready yourself quickly. I’ll be just outside the door.”
    Her bustle was barely tied before he was back