Scandalous Wager: A Whitechapel Wagers Novella by Christy Carlyle Read Free Book Online Page B

call on Lizzy.
    He
rang the bell twice before anyone answered. When the door swept open he was
stunned to see Lizzy on the other side. And she was quite a sight to see. A
rich blue dress hugged her curves and the bodice dipped low, revealing the full
rise of her breasts. His mouth watered as he recalled the taste of her skin.
    “Detective
Inspector Reed.” He didn’t care for the formal address, but he loved hearing
the sound of her voice again.
    “Lizzy.
May I speak with you?” He tried for formality in his tone, but he could not
bring himself to call her Miss Ainsworth. He had spent weeks thinking of how he
might convince her to relinquish that name and take his own.
    “Yes.
Yes, of course. Forgive my rudeness. Come in.” She stepped back and Ian moved
past her into the entry hall. She lifted her hand toward the drawing room, the
same room in which he’d first met her. It was difficult to walk past her and
not stop and sweep her up in his arms as everything in him wished to do.
    She
followed him into the snug room, wallpapered in dark damask and lit with dimmed
gas lights and a waning fire.
    “I
can take your coat. Jenny is with a sick aunt his evening.” He assumed she
spoke of the housemaid, but he found it difficult to believe he’d been
fortunate enough to find her on her own.
    “And
your mother and sister?”
    “They
are still at the Brownlow’s musicale. I was not feeling well and returned home
early.”
    It
disturbed him to hear that she was ill. “I’m sorry you’re unwell.”
    She
smiled and an ache began to burn in his chest. “It was just my head. Sara did a
good deal of singing.”
    He
smiled and some of the chill between them seemed to melt. She moved toward him
and he couldn’t help but admire the way the blue fabric of her gown shimmered
with her every movement. Her gaze held him with such intensity he licked his
lips, anticipating her kiss.
    She
lifted her hands. “Your coat, Inspector Reed?”
    Damn
his coat. He took her hands in his and pulled her the last few steps toward him
into an embrace. She didn’t resist, and he relished the feel of her curves
against him. He had dreamt too long of this moment to waste it.
    “Stop
calling me Inspector Reed. Say my name, Lizzy.”
    She
spoke the word without hesitation. “Ian.”
    He
kissed her the moment his name passed her lips. She opened to him, inviting him
in, as if they had never been apart since the night in his lodgings. All the
fire of mutual need blazed back to life.
    “Well
done.” She was breathless from their kiss, but he needed her answer. “Now say
you’ll be my wife.”
    She
leaned back and gazed up at him, then lifted her hands to the front of his
coat. Emotion shone in her eyes and he saw a tear slide down her cheek.
    He
chanted the answer he longed to hear in his head. Yes, yes, yes.
    Then
she pushed, moving away from him, pulling out of his embrace. The burning ache
for her, the fire that seemed to burn inside him whenever she was near, turned
painful, a searing, stabbing pain that stole his breath.
    “You
do not wish to marry me.”
    Her
hand shook as she lifted it to cover her mouth. Then she met his gaze. “I do
not know if I wish to marry anyone.”
    “Am
I anyone to you?”
    “You
are the only one. The only man I have touched. The only man I have ever wanted
to kiss, to...”
    “Share
carnal pleasure with?” The memory of her words, the hesitant and hopeful manner
in which she’d uttered them, echoed in his mind as he spoke. He should have
taken her then, given her everything she asked for, and kept her for his own.
    “Yes.”
    “Then
why will you not consent to be my wife?” Even as he heard himself speaking the
words in a voice that verged on petulant, he could not believe it. Marriage had
always been a prospect far off in his future. Advancement must come first,
success in his work and the financial security his own father had never been
able to provide. Yet now all that mattered was Lizzy and his