Page 11 of Murder in Disguise (Mary and Bright #5)

Portman Square

Marylebone, London

That morning, Gabriel returned to the morgue.

He discussed the cause of death with the coroner.

When the man had agreed that having a needle inserted into the base of the skull would indeed puncture an artery or soft tissue within the brain, it was a grim moment indeed.

However, that stodgy man didn’t agree that the tiny dot of dried blood at the base of the skull indicated the person had been stabbed by a needle.

When asked if he would perform a medical dissection, he said he would not unless the family requested it.

No amount of argument would change the coroner’s mind. After all, he was only an emissary of the Crown and not truly a part of Bow Street. Basically, if Gabriel wanted the poor girl cut open, he’d need to petition the Sheridans.

And he didn’t think he could add to their torment and grief.

After the morgue, he stopped in at Bow Street to give an update and report on his findings thus far. The other two agents assigned to the case were walking various neighborhoods as well as popular haunts where society congregated in an effort to monitor others that might be prowling on young women.

Promising another update in a few days, he left for home, quite dissatisfied.

At some point during tea that afternoon, Gabriel finally found his calm again.

Perhaps it was the simple act of enjoying the ritual of tea, or perhaps it was being in the same room with Mary, or perhaps it was just being in his own home, he didn’t know.

But when a sigh left his throat after his second cup of tea, he knew everything would eventually be right as rain.

“It sounds like you are quite content with your life,” Mary said with a soft smile as she glanced at him from over the rim of her teacup.

“I am.” How many mornings did he wake with gratitude that he’d been so fortunate as to not only win the woman beside him but also to care for a growing family.

“Despite the frustrations that have already beset this case, I remain optimistic.” Since he’d told her earlier what had transpired at the morgue, there was no need to belabor the point.

“I won’t ask the Sheridans to have their daughter’s body carved up. ”

“That’s understandable.” She nodded as she set her cup into its saucer. “They need the privacy to bury their daughter whenever her body is released.” But she frowned. “Will Bow Street simply overlook your findings, then?”

“At the moment, which is one of the reasons I left the organization. When one is investigating, every detail matters.”

The faint scent of her floral perfume teased his nose, and a wave of awareness came over him.

When they’d come home yesterday, there was simply no time after dinner to indulge in carnal activities, for Charlie had taken a tumble down a flight of stairs and required attention and coddling.

Then Cassandra had awakened shortly before midnight in tears of pain, for one of her teeth had become loose in preparation for the adult tooth to move in.

He and Mary were obliged to explain to her that it was what happened during childhood and that she wouldn’t be hideous.

“That is probably a reason why you have such exemplary results in solving cases.” She frowned as he took the dishes from her and set them onto the low table next to his. “What are you about now?” Yet there was a light in her eye that told him exactly what she was hoping.

Gabriel curled a hand about her waist and dragged her against his chest on the sofa. “You have teased me since yesterday and I am quite primed for wicked things.”

“That sounds quite scandalous yet delicious.” Mary peered up at him with need in the blue pools of her eyes. “I must admit, I was quite disappointed we were not able to come together last night.” With every word, her breath wafted along his chin.

“Such is life with children, I suppose.” His wife was vital, alive, and warm beneath his fingertips.

With a groan mixed with a primal growl, Gabriel pulled her into his arms and brought his lips crashing down on hers.

Exhilaration raced down his spine to mix with the heady desire in his brain, for they could be found out at any time—he’d not shut the door to the parlor—but he didn’t care; he needed to touch her, needed to join with her, to tell her that he would always choose her.

For the space of a heartbeat, Mary pulled slightly away. “I wouldn’t trade this life for any other, though.”

“Neither would I, but I do want more of you.”

“As do I with you.” Then a tiny sigh escaped her. She slipped her hands up his chest to clutch his shoulders, and fit her lips to his, kissing him with the same enthusiasm he’d come to expect from her.

How easily he was lost in her.

Like a match to dry tinder, the heat of an inferno consumed him.

There was nothing else in his mind except the need to explore her, to claim her.

Continuing to kiss her, Gabriel urged her backward on the sofa until she reclined against a decorative pillow, and dear God, it simply wasn’t enough contact.

“Ah, Mary, my sweet Mary…”

As he glided his lips along her soft skin, down the side of her throat, he changed his position so that he partially covered her body with his.

He slipped his hands beneath her thighs while constantly kissing and tasting her.

The heady combination of her perfume and the scent of her skin threatened to pull him under, and still he drank from her.

“Dear God, I want you so much; that craving has never stopped since meeting you.”

“I know the feeling well.” Her whisper dared him to continue. “There is never enough time.” The glide of her fingers along his shoulders heightened his awareness.

“We take the time that we need, and it won’t always be like this.

” Still so grateful for her, he deepened the kiss.

Satin and silk met and dueled as their tongues touched, mated, parried and thrust. Lost in the wonder that was Mary, he fenced with her, explored her mouth, drank from her as if he couldn’t have enough no matter if he lived another hundred years.

To her credit, Mary kissed him back with such desperate hunger, they would soon land in scandal if they weren’t careful, regardless they were married.

Scandal didn’t care about that. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her skirting bunched about her waist, crushed between them.

How was it that this one woman could have him on the edge of insanity with a word, a look, a kiss?

How had the same woman upended his life and changed it into something else entirely?

The throb of his engorged shaft matched the thrum of his heartbeat, and his member pressed tight into the front of his breeches.

Needing to connect with her on a base level, he ground his hips into hers.

Would the friction give her a hint of pleasure?

A moan escaped her throat, carrying the wings of desire. It collided with that same fire in his blood. “Why must you continue to tease me?”

“Why not? Teasing is half the fun and enhances what comes next.” The veriest pressure of her fingers on his nape, her fingers in his hair, the way she curled her other hand into the folds of his cravat had his sanity fleeing.

Though he moved over her lips, she took the embrace further by pressing hunger-filled kisses beneath his jaw along the side of his throat.

Desire consumed him as he kissed her back, chased her tongue, explored her body with his hands and fingertips.

“I want you.”

“Well, Bright, I don’t believe I’ve told you no, hmm?” The graveled quality of her voice barely penetrated the passionate haze in his mind. “Shall I start things off, then?” One of her hands drifted to the front of his breeches.

“Oh, God.” That glancing touch had him nearly shooting his wad right then.

“Such a vixen you’ve become.” With need guiding his actions, he settled himself between her splayed thighs.

Her stocking-clad legs on display, showing off the embroidery on that particular pair, only threw more fuel to the fire raging inside.

Would that he’d closed that damned door, for he wanted the leisure to roll down those stockings and kiss the silky skin beneath.

Also, more than anything, he wished to bury his head between those thighs, taste his fill of her naughty bits, but he’d rather claim her body, push deep into her core until the heat of her closed around him.

“Do what you will, Inspector. I’ll take you in whatever way you wish to give me.” The invitation in her eyes as she yanked at his shirt tails nearly broke him.

“Gah!” Gabriel dragged his lips down the side of her silky throat, licked at the skin that smelled faintly of violets.

Tracing the bodice of her dress with his fingertips, he followed that trail with his lips, and all the while, Mary unknotted his cravat, tugged at the length until the fabric loosened.

Then her lips were at the hollow of his throat, her tongue exploring the skin she’d uncovered, her fingers grasping at his shoulder, his lapel, any part of him she could reach, desperation evident in her movements. Every touch, every slide of her soft lips worked to drive him toward the brink.

Such was it always with them.

“Would that we had met sooner.” After a few tugs of fabric as well as his insistent urging, the top half of her dress as well as the shift beneath yielded, even more so when he loosened the laces at the back of the garment.

When her breasts were bared, he couldn’t help staring as the pink nipples pebbled, either from the ambient chill in the air or his regard.

“So damned beautiful.” Those full breasts fairly called out to him, and though this indiscretion could be discovered at any second, he didn’t care.

“If we had, the life we enjoy together might never have happened,” she said, and her lips brushed his.