Her Secret Lover (Aphrodite's Club 2)

“Police! Let us in!” shouted a voice from outside. “Let us in or we’ll break the door down!”

Aphrodite looked up at Jemmy and smiled. Her eyes glittered, her cheeks were flushed, and she looked as if she was enjoying herself, her boredom quite gone. “I will,” she called out, making her voice high and slightly hysterical, “when I find the key. Please wait.”

Jemmy grinned back at her and then led the way into a room at the side of the house. He went to a wardrobe against the far wall, and when he opened the door Gabriel saw there was a hidden staircase built inside the wall, twisting down into darkness.

“Just in case our guests want to make a hasty exit,” he explained, as the other two peered over his shoulder. “Now, I’ll go first, then Miss Dupre, then you, Gabriel. Remember to close the door behind you.”

The narrow stairs required their full attention, and no one spoke until they reached the small and dingy room at the bottom. Jemmy searched about on the wall above his head and gave a grunt of satisfaction. Another door clicked open, and he pushed it carefully ajar, peering out.

They were looking out onto the narrow alley that ran down this side of the club. It was barely wide enough for a man to walk along, and a shrub was planted strategically between the door and the street, to hide any comings and goings.

Gabriel had been aware of the noise from the police as they hammered at the front door, but now there was a splintering crash and a scream, followed by Aphrodite’s voice, rising in fury. “My door! You fools, you imbeciles, I told you to wait until I found the key!” The sounds faded as the two parties moved farther inside the club. Gabriel knew they didn’t have long. Soon the police would realize their quarry had flown and begin to search outward from the perimeter.

Jemmy beckoned them along the alley to the street, pressing himself to the wall and peering around the corner. He jumped back, holding up a warning hand. Gabriel had been right behind him, and he’d caught a glimpse of what startled him. There was a man in a top hat standing, smoking, under the portico outside the front door. Even in that brief moment Gabriel had recognized him by his stance and the inevitable cane gripped in his hand.

It was Lord Appleby.

Gabriel made a sound, and Antoinette stretched out her hand to grasp his. He squeezed her fingers, thinking she was afraid, but she whispered, “Don’t do anything reckless, please,” and he understood she was holding his hand to stop his misbehaving rather than for comfort for herself. They waited and Jemmy glanced around the corner again. He gave a grunt of relief. Appleby had finished his cigar and followed the police inside.

“We must hurry,” Jemmy said, and led the way out to the street and around the next corner. There was an area here where hansom cabs and hackneys waited for trade. They’d had a slim time of it since Aphrodite’s Club closed, and when they saw three possible customers coming toward them, some of the drivers began to call out excitedly, offering reduced fares.

Jemmy chose a hackney and bustled them into it, glancing nervously behind. “Take care,” he said, banging on the door to signal to the driver to proceed.

The hackney lurched forward and rattled away. As it moved out into the street they’d just left, Gabriel peered out of the window and could see Aphrodite’s Club, with its door smashed and leaning drunkenly to one side. Light spilled onto the front steps, but there was no sign of the police or Appleby.

He leaned back with a chuckle.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Antoinette said accusingly.

“Of course. Aren’t you?”

“No, I don’t enjoy running for my life every few days, being pursued by people who want to lock me up or take my money, never knowing what to expect next.”

He searched her profile, wondering if she was serious. “Doesn’t the excitement of it make you feel alive?” he ventured.

“No.”

“When I chased you from the schoolroom and caught you, you seemed excited, darling. Very excited. Don’t you remember?”

She bit her lip.

Gabriel leaned closer and whispered in her ear, making her jump. “I think you’re fibbing to yourself. You love living on a knife edge. If I kissed you now you’d be in my arms like a shot.”

Even in the dim light of the hackney lantern he could see that her color was high. “If you think that, then you don’t know me at all.”

“Don’t I, darling?”

She was as rigid as a lamppost, and he wondered whether he should stop, just leave her alone, but he also knew she wasn’t being truthful with him.

He pressed his lips to her cheek, enjoying her soft skin and the scent of woman. His woman. He trailed the kiss across her skin to the corner of her mouth, taking his time. She made a sound that could have meant anything. He worked on her lower lip, running the tip of his tongue back and forth. She made another sound, and this time there was no mistaking her meaning.

Miss Dupre liked what he was doing.

He kissed her properly now, parting her lips and sliding his tongue against hers. His hand cupped the back of her head, and he made the most of her response. Very soon she was beyond thought, caught up in the heat of their passion.

Satisfied he’d proved his point, Gabriel sat back in his corner of the hackney and waited. After a moment she opened her eyes, and the dreamy expression cleared from her face. “I hope you’re satisfied,” she hissed, and patted her hair, refusing to look at him.

“You know I’m not,” he replied with a sigh. “I’m extremely unsatisfied.”