“You talk too much,” he said, his husky growl sending shivers down her spine. “I think we could put that luscious mouth of yours to better use.”
And with that, he drew her into a crushing embrace, his mouth coming down to consume hers. This kiss was unlike any they had shared before, more intense, more passionate, and with a subtle edge of desperation to it.
She melted beneath his onslaught, her body leaning into his of its own accord. As his hands twisted in her still-damp curls, she raised her own to his head, her fingers searching through the soft waves of hair and pulling them free of their queue.
When one of his hands drifted down the side of her face, the curve of her neck, to rest on the swell of her breast, Mira uttered a moaning little cry and surged forward, seeking more of his heat. More of his touch. More, more, more.
And when his hand on her breast moved, brushing over the sharp bud of her nipple, with only the fine wet fabric of her dress between his skin and hers, Mira thought she might die. A whirling dizziness overcame her, and she had to fight for breath.
Emboldened by the fire tearing through her, she let her own hands fall to Nicholas’s chest, and she explored the hard contours of the muscles beneath his shirt. She had never felt anything like his body, so hard yet gently yielding beneath her fingers. So warm and so alive. With a sudden flash of daring, Mira echoed Nicholas’s own caress, brushing her hand across the bulge of his chest, feeling the tight male nipple there.
He sucked air through his teeth and drew back with a sharp laugh. “Oh, Mira-mine,” he groaned, “such a clever, clever girl.”
He rested his forehead against hers, breathing deeply as his racing heart began to slow beneath her hand.
Mira struggled for composure. She had come here to discuss the murders, not to kiss Nicholas…no matter how delightful the kissing was. But he seemed determined to distract her from her mission. Did he not grasp the gravity of this situation?
Of course he did.
Suddenly it occurred to her that, when she had accused his father, he had not looked surprised. Panicked, angry even, but not surprised.
She gasped. “You have known all along, haven’t you?”
He groaned again, pulling away from her and slowly opening his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice utterly flat.
“You know what I mean. You have suspected your father all along, haven’t you? And,” she continued, as the picture became clearer, “you have allowed the rumors of your guilt to go unchecked to protect him.”
“Again, you are mistaken.”
But she knew she was not. His blank, controlled expression and the uncharacteristic coldness of his voice were all the proof she needed.
“Why? Why would you allow him to go unpunished if you thought he was guilty?” Mira nearly choked on the words. “Didn’t Bridget and Tegen and Olivia deserve better than that?”
Nicholas narrowed his eyes, and tension vibrated through every line of his body.
“Let us assume you are correct,” he said tightly. “What would I have done? Gone to the local constable with my concerns? Muttered ‘Christmas and Midsummer’ over and over until someone believed me?”
She flinched at the mocking tone of his voice, but found the courage to whisper, “You might have tried.”
He shook his head in incredulity. “Everyone suspected me. My accusations would have carried very little weight.”
Nicholas stood and turned his back to her, the rigid set of his shoulders speaking eloquently of his frustration. “Besides, there is no more proof of my father’s guilt than there is of mine,” he added. “What kind of son would I be to accuse my father of such a heinous crime, with so little evidence?”
Mira stood. She could not resist the urge to rest one hand on his shoulder, to maintain some contact no matter how fragile. “I know accusing him would seem disloyal. But you have a right to remove this cloud of suspicion hanging over you, Nicholas. And,” she added softly, “if he has done it before, he might do it again. Bringing him to justice might save a life.”
Beneath her fingers, his tension eased as his shoulders slid down in defeat.