Bodice Ripper

She was soft against him, her lips soft and tasting incredible. He was surprised to feel her kissing him back with equal fervor, but he must have been imagining it. He could feel her hands moving on his body, feeling every inch of the muscle that had been hard-packed on by army life.

He wanted her, wanted her so badly that he nearly picked her up and took her on the desk. He could feel himself hardening at the very thought. He lifted her up until she was sitting on the edge of the desk, and she pulled him in close to her.

He stopped.

This was a mistake, he realized. He pushed himself back from her gently and took a deep breath. He looked at her, watching her breathing hard. She had a quizzical look on her face; she wasn't sure why he had stopped, but he thought that she looked as if she hadn't wanted him to.

That was dangerous. One of them had to think of her future. He wanted her badly, but he couldn't have her. Could never have her. He held his breath to still the beating of his heart, so loud he could hear it in his ears, and he straightened his waistcoat from where it had twisted while they kissed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I'm sorry."

With that, he turned and stalked out of the room. He had completely lost control of himself in there. She was dangerous to be around, he had known it from the beginning. Had seen her and immediately known that she would be trouble.

But he'd thought—or wanted to think—that he could handle it. That he could control himself. This proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he couldn't. She was poison to him, if he ever wanted to be thought of as a respectable man again.

What's more, he reminded himself, there was nothing that he could do about it. She was as high above him as the stars, and he could never keep her in a place like this. He hadn't the income, and wouldn't have it. To keep her in the manner to which she was accustomed, you needed to have position.

He couldn't have her forever, and he knew further that if he were to try to pursue her, he could only ruin her for someone who would be able to keep her happy. He slumped back against the door of his bedroom and closed his eyes. He needed to keep control of himself, and that meant avoiding Mary Geis at all costs. At all costs.

He turned the latch on his door and walked over to the writing desk in his room. He couldn't have Mary, that was certain, but he'd been brought here for a reason. The former Lord Geis had been concerned about something, and he'd brought James in to help him solve that problem.

James had come too late to save him, but that didn't mean that he could ignore the problem. If he guessed right, then whatever Lord Geis had been worried about was related to the monetary issues he had already been trying to solve.

He needed a plan if he was going to move forward. He could try to collect on debts as best he could, but the problem was identifying the others. Further, there were not many for any of the others. It would be akin to trying to build a brick house with straw filling in for the missing parts and too-few bricks.

The solution would have to answer the problem of what to do about Oliver, and therein lay the rub. He was a well-respected man, and powerful. When he'd received the offer from a representative of Thomas Geis, James had wondered if he might be related in some way to the Colonel who he had heard about so often in his army stint.

He had won more than his share of battles, and in a war that had chewed up men and spit them out more than any other before it, Oliver Geis was a man who got what he wanted. He had several thousand men under his command, and if he needed something done on the home front, then it would be done. Almost certainly, he could do it without question.

The idea that he would need money was absurd, and further it was out of the question. Whatever he had gotten the money for, it was not because he was short.

Which begged the question of what he needed the money for, and more importantly, why he had covered up taking it by murdering his own brother. The accusation felt strange, even as the evidence of it piled up.

If he were to bring such an accusation before the court, he would be laughed out, and then very likely arrested as he tried to leave. The proof would need to be unquestionable and complete. That much was clear; even if he thought that the circumstances were suspicious, all that Oliver Geis needed to do to escape the charges would be to deny them.

All of these thoughts swirled in James's mind as he sat, thinking about what to do next. Of all the things that he couldn't do, getting tangled up in a romance with a woman he couldn't have was the one thing he couldn't afford.

11

Mary

Mary sat on the desk in the study and watched James walk away. Her breaths were coming in hard gulps and burned her chest, but that wasn't the hottest thing burning. Her chest burned, and she could feel a warmth emanating from deep down inside her, in places that she didn't want to admit existed. Not for a lawyer from London.

She didn't know what had come over her. She'd been working, and then he had been so close to her that she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck starting to stand up and her heart raced. It was impossible to think with him there, and when she turned and he was so close something in her had snapped.

When he had kissed her, it only served to cement that the feeling was mutual. She didn't need to hold back, because he wanted exactly what she wanted.

Now that he was gone, the room seemed to be chilled, and she was suddenly acutely aware of how full the table was. She tried to climb down as carefully she could, to avoid disturbing the piles of paper that had been roughly pushed aside by her bottom, but she was quickly finding that it was completely impossible to climb down elegantly from the top of a desk.

What had she been thinking? She'd only met the man a handful of days ago, and until the night before she had thought he would kill her. Surely she must have been disoriented by the sense of impending doom and near-constant danger, but that wasn't enough of an excuse. She'd almost made the biggest mistake of her life.

Deep in the pit of her stomach, though Mary tried to ignore it, she wanted another chance to make it again.

She stood up and tried to straighten her clothes, fix her hair. They'd been pushed out of place by their vigorous... Mary closed her eyes and tried to push the image out of her mind. Vigorous mistake.

Mary tried to ignore the loneliness she was feeling. It was just a side effect of the mood she had gotten swept up in.

James hadn't rejected her. In fact, she was glad that he'd done it. If he hadn't, then they might have both made a mistake they couldn't take back. It wasn't a comment on her, on his feelings about her. If it were, then it didn't matter. They weren't meant to be together.