Her fingers tightened on the blanket. “What’s done? Grace’s rescue? Crusher’s capture? Lady Abernath’s attacks? Is Grace safe? Should we follow, stay here, go home?”
Blake dropped the parchment next to her on the bed. She picked it up and read the four words scrolled out in scratchy block on the page.
Vice,
It’s done.
Bad
She stared at the words for a full minute as though she expected more answers to jump from the page. “You can’t be serious,” she finally mumbled. “This is it?”
“That’s it.” Vice climbed over her and slipped back into the covers. “We might as well go back to sleep.”
“Sleep?” She turned to him outraged. “How can you even think about sleep? I need answers.”
He sighed and reached for her waist, pulling her body against his. “Ada,” he whispered. “I told you. Bad is taking care of Grace. Now, for heaven’s sake, allow me to take care of you.”
“I am cared for,” she sniffed, leaning back to look at him. “I’m warm and in a bed with dinner from last night still in my stomach. I’m marrying a viscount and…” She held up a single finger. “I don’t even have to have a wedding with my mother’s interference.”
He chuckled. “All excellent points. But think on this. If Bad didn’t have Grace, he’d be here. He wouldn’t have sent a messenger.”
“Oh,” she answered, placing her hand on his neck. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“And if Crusher or Abernath were chasing them, he likely wouldn’t have said that it was all done. He’d have called for my help.”
“That…that is true too.”
“So, I propose that you allow me to take care of you this morning, just for a few hours. We’ll sleep a bit more, journey back to London, and see the Archbishop for a special license. With any luck, we can be married today.”
“Do you think Bad will marry Grace?”
Blake shook his head. “We’ll figure out how to protect Grace after I’ve taken care of you. But I am certain he’ll keep her safe at all costs.”
Ada turned her head to the side, assessing him. “You’re very difficult to argue with this morning.”
“It’s my bare chest.” He puffed his muscles, sucking in his stomach.
Ada h
ad to hide a smile as she wrapped her arms about his middle. “I thought it was your sound arguments.”
He leaned down, capturing her lips with his own. “I like the idea of my chest being the reason much better.”
She would have argued but he kissed her again, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips. As he slanted her mouth open, she forgot what she was going to say.
He rolled on top of her, tucking her body under his as he continued to kiss her. Last night had been a frenzy of passion but this morning, she wanted to explore.
She ran her hands over the ridges of his back, sliding them down to his muscular buttocks.
He made one of those growling sounds, the kind that gave her chills, his deep baritone vibrating in his throat.
“Love,” he rumbled. “Touch me like that again and the pace is going to get a great deal quicker.”
His words filled with deep satisfaction. The power she had over him intoxicated her. “Touch you how? Like this?” She slid her fingers to the inside of his thigh.
He groaned against her lips. “Don’t say you didn’t ask for this.” And then he slid his body off hers, kissing a path over her jaw and down her neck.
As his hot kisses drew closer to her breast, the flesh puckered in anticipation, but nothing prepared her for the sensation of a damp mouth sucking in her flesh. Her entire body arched up to meet his lips, wanting more from him. He gave a throaty chuckle in response as he kissed his way to the other peak.