The Runner's Enticement (Men of Circumstance Book 2) (9 page)

Chapter 15

Few things ever dove beneath the surface of Nate’s carefree demeanor. He never allowed anyone or anything the opportunity. He’d learned from his father, only to have it again proven by Diana. His place in life would never be in a position above his lowly station as a bastard.

So, he shouldn’t be surprised by Anna’s reaffirmation of the fact. He sure as hell shouldn’t be hurt by it.

Much to his displeasure, he
was
surprised. Not by what she’d said, but how it gutted him to hear the words fall from her lovely lips.

Lips he’d mere moments earlier tasted with complete abandon.

The memory of her rebuff still managed to clench his jaw as he rode across the southern boundary of Brodford’s property. Needing some distance from the utterly provoking woman, he’d relieved his man who’d been positioned the furthest from the house. Shirking his duty or not, he’d assigned Grant to Anna before he’d escaped. Nate could not bear to cross paths with her yet.

Rational thought pushed past the unexplained ache and told him she was right. He was there to do a job and he should never have, and could never again, kiss her.

Yet her rejection somehow struck him in a way his father’s and Diana’s never had.

Not long after learning the identity of his father, Nate stopped putting any value into anything the man had to say. The duke’s behavior had been deplorable in every way. To the point of being criminal.

As for Diana, she might have been born a lady but her conduct fell far short of the mark. Which had suited him to a point. She’d found pleasure in his body but it didn’t take long for him to learn she had no desire to share what she saw as a base indiscretion with her world. He’d been good enough behind closed doors. Beyond that he hadn’t been worthy of her, a truth she’d painstakingly explained when he’d mistakenly shared his deepening affection.

When not away on assignment, Nate might call Gabe’s ducal estate his home but he never forgot his origin. A bastard son of a duke, born to a household maid who’d been so far below his father’s care he’d dismissed her and his unborn child. Nate had never been allowed to forget. Every time he’d dared to approach the sphere of the
ton
, he was condemned to his fate and forbidden to enter their world.

Gabe’s status as duke might gain Nate some leniency with the exalted
ton,
but welcomed he was not.

As much as his placement in life had torn at him, it had never mattered as much as when Anna had thrown his lowborn position in his face.

Tension, and a fair amount of residual unfulfilled desire, overrode his body. Enough to make his thighs squeeze the sides of Rascal, causing his mount to sidestep in displeasure.

“Sorry, boy, I shouldn’t take it out on you.” Nate gave his stallion a pat on the neck in a quest for forgiveness.

As he straightened in the saddle, his eyes caught a flash of movement along the horizon. A fair distance stood between Nate and the object, but there was no mistaking the steady gallop of horse and rider. The identity of the rider was a mystery Nate had every intention of solving. Anything to distract him from thoughts of his parentage and Anna.

Years of instinct and training took over as Nate nudged Rascal and set him on a quickly calculated line meant to intercept the other horse before it hit the trees lining the edge of the property. Nate’s blood pulsed in his veins as he gave chase and he welcomed each beat as it pulled him from his inner misery.

He doubted the rider was the thief. Never before had the burglar struck during the day, since anyone with a touch of sense would have noticed Nate’s men posted around the property.

There was a great possibility the rider had nothing to do with anything, but at the moment all Nate cared was that it gave him something to do. Anything other than reliving the feel of Anna’s soft, untrained lips beneath his . . . and her subsequent dismissal.

Accustomed to the chase, Rascal embraced the opportunity to break free of all restraints. After giving his initial instruction, Nate focused on the other rider and let his horse do the rest.

Closer, Nate noted the person’s broad shoulders and bulkier form and knew the rider was indeed male. With the man’s hat pulled low, Nate couldn’t make out his features.

The trees approaching quickly, Nate gave another nudge to Rascal’s sides and spurred him faster.

Near enough for the other rider to hear approaching hoof beats, the man turned his head. Nate received a clear glimpse of his face, almost unseating him in the process.

Looking back at him was the same man Anna had met in Witterson’s garden.

Uncertain what the discovery meant but more determined to find out, he leaned over Rascal’s neck in an effort to nudge the horse faster.

Just when Nate thought he’d intercept, the other horse veered to the left and with a quick jump over a pile of brush, entered the trees.

Nate followed, determined to overtake his quarry. But the search was futile. The man was evidently familiar with the estate and knew the best path to evade him.

“Damn!” He’d allowed the perfect opportunity—to learn what Anna was up to—slip through his grasp.

Witnessing Anna’s
friend
from the garden fleeing her father’s estate intrigued him even further. Nate could only assume the mystery man had been visiting her.

He ignored the unfamiliar rush of jealousy surging through him as he wheeled Rascal in the direction of the house and ate up the ground between him and the woman he’d been avoiding.

Chapter 16

As she roamed silently through her father’s parlor, Anna pondered her disaster of a day. Staring blankly at each artifact, all of them became a blur of nothing behind her unshed tears. She blinked back the desperation and focused on her father mumbling to himself as he studied a recent acquisition. An ever-present smile rested on his aging face.

Somehow alerted to her inspection, he glanced up and gave her a look full of fatherly love before returning to his work.

Instead of lifting her spirits, his freely given affection stabbed her in the heart.

How could she betray him? Her noble reasons to keep the school open for less fortunate young girls, in honor of her mother’s memory, had become clouded by the inevitable pain she would bring to the one person who had always accepted her as is.

Her anguish at how she’d severed her moment with Nate had been eclipsed by Mr. Rollins’ threat. Nate’s disappearance from the estate after their kiss had left the perfect opening for Mr. Rollins to approach her with another
incentive
to meet his demand. His threats had become less evasive.

The vile man had startled her in the garden. How could Nate abandon his required post at her side, thus allowing Mr. Rollins to approach her?

No longer confident she had control of the situation or in Mr. Rollins’ claim to be a gentleman, she’d never been so relieved to be interrupted by Nate’s man.

Her thoughts returned to the priceless items before her, bringing them into focus. Powerless against the creditor, Anna knew time was running short.

A dark shadow fell over the doorway, drawing her gaze. Unsure of when or if he’d return, Nate’s sudden appearance startled her. Given the determined set of his jaw, trouble was brewing.

His hard gaze landed on her and she found herself inexplicably torn between pleasure at the first sight of him since feeling his lips move over hers, and dread at what was written across his face.

He knew something.

Those blue eyes regarded her questioningly. Perhaps he might not know the significations of what he’d discovered, or what it meant, but he’d definitely learned something.

Her dread won out as Nate’s focus locked on her, and she wished Foxmoore hadn’t left the estate after meeting with her father. She needed a barrier. A distraction. Still engrossed with his work, her father would be of no help; he hadn’t even registered Nate’s arrival.

Flee
. She must escape before Nate pieced together whatever he’d exposed and managed to pull her world from under her.

If there was ever a time she wished for more experience with men, now would be it. She didn’t know how to be charmingly coy or even gracefully direct to get what she wanted from men. Essentially she hadn’t a clue how to fumble her way through the unavoidable exchange with Nate.

She could only hope, with her father in the room, Nate would go only as far as social manners allowed. Then again, in the few days she’d known him, he’d crossed far beyond what was appropriate. Her lips still tingled in proof.

While contemplating ways to avoid his muscular frame, he’d closed the space keeping them apart, enabling him to speak to her without her father overhearing. “Just the woman I was looking for.”

After her cool dismissal and his quick exit from the stable, she knew nothing less than a matter of import would have sent him after her. With any luck she had enough haughty demeanor stored up to bluster her way through the next few minutes.

“I can’t imagine why. Other than you being assigned to guard duty, we have
nothing
in common. And even less to discuss.”

The same flash of remoteness from the stable entered his eyes. This time she was prepared, and his momentary reaction only managed to squeeze half the air from her lungs. She hated herself for purposely inflicting pain, or whatever it was he held behind his carefree exterior. But the determination that quickly replaced his wounded appearance reminded her it was either him or her. She was fighting for her future.

After a hooded glance at her father, Nate took a step closer, sending shocks of awareness through her body. Even with her inexperience, her body craved more of this man; a distraction she didn’t need at the moment. Especially with how those clear blue eyes stared, as if having his way in their latest confrontation was a foregone conclusion.

“Now, now, Anna, no need to assume the princess with me.” His voice drifted softly, ensuring the words stayed between them. “Especially since I know how you look without the crown and with passion running through your sweet little body.”

She tried to suck in air but the room seemed to have lost its supply of oxygen. Breathing shallowly, she had to take a step back to find her balance. With only two sentences, the man managed to tip her on her axis and send her spinning. All with her father a short distance away. Thank God Nate hadn’t found her alone. Hard to tell what lines he would cross to get what he wanted.

What exactly
does
he want?
She studied his face closely. If he knew she was the thief, surely he’d go directly to her father. No need to confront her first. Why the sensual charm? After his cold retreat from the stable, she thought he’d be nothing but businesslike with her.

She also hadn’t missed the fact he’d dropped the honorific ‘lady’ and had called her Anna. Something she wasn’t ready to admit felt intimate in a good way.

“Mr. Frederickson, I don’t believe I gave you leave to address me informally.” She knew she sounded petty and pompous, but she needed to find her footing and put some distance between them.

His eyes crinkled at the corners right before he chuckled. Loud enough to send a flash of heat to her belly, yet low enough to keep her father from hearing.

“My dear
Anna
, after feeling your sweet tongue against mine, I think my disregard for your title is the least informal thing you should worry about.”

She thought she couldn’t breathe before. Nate had removed
all
the air from her lungs at the mention of his tongue on hers. Much to her chagrin, it wasn’t in abhorrence. Fierce desire his words stoked within her depleted her ability to breathe.

At least the shift in conversation dissolved the look of resolve from his appearance. Instead, the guise of hunger in his features failed to silence her craving.

This little interlude must end, especially since it was only a matter of time before her father surfaced from the past and became aware of the tension permeating the room.

“As interesting as this discussion may be, I feel a headache coming on and must retire.” She attempted to rush past him.

Before she could clear his side, his hand cupped her elbow, effectively trapping her.

He bent his head, his warm breath feathering against her ear as he whispered, “I’m only letting you escape because your father is in the room, but know this conversation is far from over.”

The pressure of his fingers eased and she didn’t wait for him to fully release her before she fled, not knowing if she should take his final words as a threat . . . or a promise.

Chapter 17

Nate let her run away. He still craved answers but somewhere during their exchange his focus had become less about questioning her and more about wanting to feel her tempting body against his again.

How had she managed to turn things around with nothing more than a few arrogant words? Somewhere between leaving her in the stable and finding her in the parlor, his body had decided haughty Anna was damned arousing, despite him wanting nothing to do with her.

She’d set him aflame with thoughts of her moist tongue, and only her father’s presence had prevented him from revisiting her charming lips. As it was, he failed to understand how the earl had been oblivious to the strain thundering through the room.

He vowed this would be her one and only reprieve. He wanted answers and he was determined to get them. Until then, he had to resettle his mind where it needed to be, with the stolen items. As much as he wanted to solve the mystery of Anna, he’d been hired to capture a thief. A detail he needed to remember.

Not by any means small in physique, Nate smiled at his ability to ease from the room without Brodford noticing. He might like the man—maybe even respect him—but Nate sure as hell wouldn’t voluntarily subject himself to another in-depth discussion on some long dead ruler. He had his limit as to what he’d willingly inflict on himself for his job.

Free of the parlor, Nate fought the urge to follow Anna. The house wasn’t enormous and if he wanted to, he’d have no problem locating her. He was a Runner after all. A damned good one, too. What kept him from rushing to her side was the reason he
wanted
to go after her.

He was honest enough to admit it had nothing to do with picking up where they’d left off in the parlor and getting answers. No, it had more to do with the fact he genuinely
liked
to be around her. He refused to examine how that had changed in a few short days.

Instead, he denied himself her company and went looking for his men. Since he had no information from Anna about the stranger on the horse, one of his men had better possess something to report.

Hours later, Nate fumed as he stomped to his room to prepare for supper. How the hell did a bunch of trained men, who’d captured the country’s deadliest killer, manage to see nothing? One of his men, who’d observed Anna near the garden and talking to a member of the staff, was his only promising lead.

The man on horseback had worn attire allowing him to blend in as a servant. Though it only confirmed the stranger
had
spoken to Anna. Nate had already witnessed their meeting at the Witterson’s ball. But he needed more to go on and it appeared Anna held the answers.

His lips curled. Oh, how he would enjoy extracting those very answers. A few steps later, a frown settled on his face. If only he felt as confident about the answers as he did with the methods he needed to employ with Anna to uncover them.

What if the stranger was a suitor? Or more, her lover? Nate’s gut clenched as his hand curved around the knob of his door. For some inexplicable reason, the thought of Anna having a lover pitched his anger to an entirely new level.

Her kiss had been awash in innocence, so he doubted the possibility. But it didn’t stop him from gripping the knob and shoving his door open with forceful irritation.

One perfect kiss and the blasted chit had managed to dig under his skin. He might appreciate women and all they could do with their bodies, but not since Diana had anyone snuck past his guard.

Despite his simmering fury, he shut the door without doing damage to the frame. The hour was late and his room cast in shadows. Nate crossed to the nightstand and lit a candle.

In the process of setting it down, he noticed the letter on the bed. There wasn’t an address. His hand tensed as he debated reaching for it.

Past experience with unexpected letters appearing in unanticipated places had him dreading its contents. His brother, Gabe, had been a victim of some very determined blackmailing through a series of letters.

Thankfully those were in the past. Nate had helped apprehend the man responsible for holding his brother’s future hostage—literally and figuratively.

With slightly steadier fingers, Nate snatched the letter from the bed and broke the nondescript seal. What greeted him caused him to sputter every curse he knew.

You may have waylaid my plans for your brother but not even the best Runner will be able to stop me in the end.

Nate read the sentence four times before the words penetrated the dull hum sounding between his ears. The mention to his brother could only be in reference to the blackmailing. Which made no sense whatsoever. He knew for a fact the man responsible for writing
those
letters was currently rotting away in prison . . . since Nate had been the one to bring him there. The handwriting on those original letters had matched the penmanship of his father’s solicitor perfectly. Even if it hadn’t, the man had confessed.

Despite all the evidence staring him in the face, something had felt off about the entire situation. While Johnstone might have been a fairly capable, yet corrupt, solicitor, he hadn't seemed intelligent enough to mastermind a scheme to blackmail the Duke of Wesbrook.

Now Nate held proof his instincts had been right. Where that left him he had no idea, though he’d wager it was far from over. Hopefully being the latest recipient meant whoever was behind the letters had shifted his target from his brother. If anything happened to Gabe or his family, Nate would never forgive himself for not apprehending the right man.

He studied the heavy black script against the stationary. He might have been off the mark regarding the true
blackmailer, but there was no mistaking someone else had written this letter. Though probably not the mastermind, Johnstone could still have had a role in the plot to destroy Gabe.

Nate flipped the paper over, searching for any further clues as to the identity of the writer. Discounting the seal and the one sentence, there was nothing else to go on.

“Damn!”

The letter contained more of a threat than a demand, so there was nothing Nate could do other than wait it out. If history had taught him anything, the letter was only the beginning.