Page 17 of Gone With the Rogue
He remained at his comfortable stance and offered, “I wanted to know if seeing you today would make me feel the same way I felt when I first saw you standing in the tree.”
Unable to bear not knowing, she asked, “What is the answer to that?”
“I do feel the same way.” His gaze was intense but his voice soft.
Her throat tightened, shortening her breaths even more. His answer led to more questions she didn’t need to ask, didn’t need to know the answer to. He admitted his attraction to her was as real as hers was to him. That should have been enough. She didn’t need to fuel the fire going on inside her, but one thought was saying,Don’t ask anything else. He is nothing but a danger to you. Show him the door.But another, stronger voice was demanding she ask him,How do I make you feel? Tell me everything you are feeling and make me yearn for your touch.
Their gazes stayed locked together. The seconds tumbled by, one after the other. Neither of them moved. There was a warm glow in his eyes that made her feel exceedingly precious, wanted and longed for.
“What did you feel when you saw me yesterday, Mr. Stockton?”
“Desire for you. I still want you in my arms. I want to feel your lips on mine. You felt the same for me, too.”
Yes, she’d felt heavenly desire for this seafaring man who had reportedly fought pirates, dueled gentlemen, and dined with monarchs around the world.
All of that made him an exciting man to think about, to wonder what his touch and kisses would be like, but that wasn’t all that drew her to him. She had no knowledge of whether those stories were true. She desired the man before her now, who understood a little boy’s eagerness to be tall and brightened Brina’s day with a few kind and simple words about a husband most had already forgotten.
Julia’s heartbeat went from slow and steady to hard and fast. She had no idea how long Mr. Stockton would be in London. It might be only a short time before he headed back to sea. If she was ever going to defy the duke’s decree she rebuff all men, Mr. Stockton was exactly the kind of man she needed to be involved with. He wouldn’t court her openly, with thoughts of marriage on his mind—something she couldn’t possibly consider. His sojourner’s way of life would never fit in with that. Their desire was mutual. Could she dare think about a safe and secret way to be with him so she could feel the strong, sure touch of his hand against her skin?
He wasn’t hurrying her for an answer, only waiting for an invitation he had to know she wanted to give. That made him even more attractive to her.
Julia wanted to ask him to meet her where they could be alone and share those kisses he spoke about.She opened her mouth to let him know she would consider a secret rendezvous with him, but then she heard Chatwyn laughing. His gleeful boyish sounds pulled at her heart.
What if she were caught and the duke found out? She couldn’t take the chance of losing her son to spend a few moments, a few hours, or a few evenings withthisman, no matter how tempting he was. For now, fear of what the duke could do would continue to control her.
Julia sucked in a deep breath and walked over to the side table. She picked up Mr. Stockton’s hat and extended it toward him.
“Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Stockton.”
He gave her a long, hard look but didn’t take the hat. “I meant it when I said you could trust me, Lady Kitson.”
She believed him. Perhaps it was because of the bond she’d felt with him when he’d saved her from that wretched tree and their near fall. She sensed he’d felt it then and again now, too. Thoughts started churning in Julia’s mind.
“In that case, if you don’t mind, I do have another question for you, Mr. Stockton.”
“I am at your pleasure, Lady Kitson.”
Julia cleared her throat. “I know you haven’t been in London very long, but have you heard anything about a recent explosion in a mine? A dreadful accident where lives were lost?”
He quirked his head and gave her a questioning expression. His interest was clear.
“It’s an odd question, I know,” she hurried to add. “I thought there might have been something in themorning’s newsprint, or perhaps you heard talk in one of the clubs or—wherever you might have been last night.”
“In a mine, no.”
Julia’s spirits plummeted.
“There was a short article inThe Timesthis morning about an explosion in Manchester about six weeks ago that brought down several buildings. More than a dozen people were killed.”
“Yes, that must have been the terrible accident I heard about,” she said. “The entire town must be in mourning. Did the article say anything more about it?”
“They discovered that one of the buildings—a gaming house—was storing barrels of gunpowder. No one knows what ignited it and there was no reason to believe it wasn’t an accident. The men who worked there and several patrons were killed in the blast. They’re still trying to locate the man who owned the building. He seems to have vanished. And no wonder, the amount of gunpowder it would have taken for such destruction should never have been stored on a busy street. Could that be what you’re referring to?”
“Yes,” she murmured softly. “That must be what he was talking about.”
“Who, Lady Kitson?”
Julia blinked. “It was a conversation I overheard. I didn’t have the details of what happened. That’s why I was asking about it. I hope they find the man who owned the building and he’s forced to help the town recover. Thank you, Mr. Stockton. What you told me has helped me tremendously. I didn’t know what kind of explosion it was. Only that it was recent and people were killed. Do you remember if the article reportedthe name of the company that was storing the gunpowder?”
