The Golden Leopard (26 page)

“Yes. Probably. But don’t do that.”

“Perhaps not today, then. But one day, we shall play that game. Meantime, your breasts need attention. Ask me to lick them.”

She did, and fell back against his arm as he caressed them with his tongue, teasing at her nipples, drawing them into his mouth, sucking while she looked down at his head, at his lips and tongue moving on her, feeling the climax building between her legs. She needed pressure there, started to close them, felt him pull away.

“Where is your obedience, Jessica? You are my plaything. Remember?”

“I don’t like it that you have so much control over me,” she said. “And so much control over yourself when you are with me.”

“That astonishes me as well. Do you imagine it is easy? Only a bit of cloth prevents me from sliding up inside you. But when I do, this will be nearly over. And when it is over, I must leave. So relax, Jessie. Close your eyes and feel me. Ten minutes is all I ask. You’re not ready yet for longer play. But each time we are together, I shall teach you how to stretch your pleasure, like a single strand of silk, to the breaking point.”

She hadn’t thought she could, but for what seemed infinitely longer than a few minutes she felt his hands and lips moving on her body, as if he played her like a lyre. It felt so wonderful, and then more wonderful, that she thought a climax would be, at this time, an intrusion on the purest delight.

He withheld it from her carefully, touching every place but the one place that would shatter her. When he put the first finger inside her, he did so from behind her thighs so that his hand wouldn’t set off the fire at her nub. The finger moved deliciously, swirling around, withdrawing, returning. Then it was joined by a second finger, and his mouth was at her mouth, and his tongue moved in rhythm with that invading hand. She writhed against him as one of his hands toyed with her breast, as his tongue plunged in and out of her mouth, as his long fingers reached ever deeper.

Then emptiness for a moment. He sucked on her tongue, adjusting something below. A stretching sensation, not unpleasant, and he wriggled three fingers through her opening. Her head fell back with the excitement of it.

“That’s good,” he said. “Look down, Jessica. Watch my hand play with you. How many orgasms do you want?”

His dark fingers, slick with her moisture, mesmerized her. She couldn’t answer. She could only feel.

“Now, I think,” he said. His other hand moved slowly from her breast, down her stomach to the dark curls, combed through them, and with just the right pressure, with her watching his hands make their music, he brought her slowly and then faster and faster to a searing, throbbing climax.

It was so overwhelming that in the aftermath, she felt herself falling into unwanted sleep. Distantly she felt him lift her and cross to the bed. She fought the darkness closing over her. It was unfair to deny him. And however great the pleasure she had just experienced, it was nothing compared to being joined with him in the most intimate embrace of all.

“Please,” she whispered when he seemed about to let her go.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes.” Raising her hand, she pressed it against the large erection pushing against his trousers. “Give me this. I want this.”

“I am your slave, my princess,” he said. “I will give you everything I have.”

When the subject eventually staggered around to Jessica’s business proposal, she could tell Duran had already laid the groundwork. Before she’d begun to explain her offer, Gerald leaped directly to his catalog of objections.

“For one thing,” he said, his drawl less pronounced than it had been, “we haven’t discussed advance money, not to mention expenses. And for another, you can’t expect me to sell something I haven’t even seen.”

“Well, keep in mind we’re not trying to sell it,” Duran said with exquisite patience, “although we shall do so, of course, if all else fails. What we really want is to find the mate.”

“So you say. But it sounds havey-cavey to me. And not quite in your line, Jessica,” Gerald added, turning his small-eyed gaze to her. “Do you believe all this business about stolen idols? Especially since he claims to have stolen one of them himself?”

“Now, now,” said Duran. “I’ll deny that in any court of law. Not that a British court gives a fig what becomes of pagan idols.”

“That rather depends on who owned it, and more to the point, who might want to own it. But the lady is our expert. What say you, sister-in-law? Ready to stake your reputation on the word of this paltry fellow?”

“Certainly not. I have had the statue evaluated by several scholars of India antiquities, and they were unable to verify its authenticity. I have demanded provenance of Lord Duran, and he could provide none. What is more, his tale of not one but two stolen idols defies credibility. I should think the provincial ruler could manage to hang on to at least one Golden Leopard.”

“Y-yes,” said Gerald, sounding disappointed. “Exactly the point I was making.”

He wanted to believe in this, she thought. A measure of his indebtedness. Of his desperation. “But something about the statue appealed to me,” she said reflectively. “I have a sense of quality, you know. A talent for recognizing what is of value, even when it has been scrounged from an attic all covered with dust. So I brought the leopard to a jeweler, who certified the value of the gold and the gems, and to a sculptor, who declared the carving ancient and magnificent. I cannot stand by Lord Duran’s story of the statue’s origin, or vouch there is another just like it, but without doubt the one we have in hand is worth a tidy sum.”

“A small fortune, at the very least,” Duran said. “But the pair, returned to Alanabad, would garner a prince’s ransom. I vote we go for the greater prize. Jessica?”

She hesitated. Felt Gerald’s avid regard concentrated on her. “I don’t know. It would take a long time. And if we find the other leopard, and send you with the both of them to India to claim our reward, what certainty would there be that you’d come back to share it with us? I say a leopard in the hand is worth two elsewhere. Or nowhere.”

“Save that I love you,” Duran said softly.

She hadn’t seen him rise, but suddenly he was there, his hands gripping hers and drawing her to her feet.

“Have you forgot already?” For a moment he gazed directly into her eyes, and in spite of his husky laugh, and the kiss that followed it, there was no mistaking the message in his look.
You’ve gone too far. Don’t fight me now.

When he set her back, squeezing her shoulders as a second reminder, she gave a shaky laugh. “But it was our secret. You said I must tell no one.”

“Talbot doesn’t count. Among partners, there should be no secrets.”

“You have persuaded him to join us?” She glanced over at Gerald, who looked wary. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. And you have come to trust him? I’m not sure that I do.”

“Nor do I,” Duran conceded. “Not altogether. But he owes me a great sum of money, and the only way to settle his debts and ensure future credit among his peers is to throw in his lot with us.” Releasing her, he crossed to Gerald and pumped his hand. “We are to be related,” he said jovially. “Each of us wed to a Sothingdon chit. Mind you, Jessie and I are marrying quietly, and by Special License because her father is unlikely to approve. Her brother, when he learns of it, will be apoplectic.”

“Aubrey is an ass,” Gerald agreed, eyes narrowed.

“We didn’t invite you to stand witness,” Duran said, “in case you’d rather stay on good terms with your in-laws. But by all means, come make sure of the marriage if you need to. It is on for tomorrow morning. However, you must choose tonight whether to accept our offer or decline it. To be candid, I hope you will decline. I’m not persuaded you are indispensable, nor do I wish to share the profits. It was Jessica talked me into letting you join us.”

“Even though she does not trust me?” He cast her a sly grin. “I wonder why she spoke in my favor?”

Without Duran blocking her way, she’d have launched herself at Gerald’s throat. But with a large hand solidly on her shoulder, she subsided. Remembered the role she had to play. “Why? Because I cannot do all that must be done. If you are to be a part of this scheme, your assignment is simple enough. I have prepared a list of sixteen collectors, all of them residing within a day’s ride of London. You need only call on each one and make the proper inquiries.”

Edgy because the moment had come, she went to the corner where a draped canvas was propped on a stylus. Without drama, she withdrew the covering. “This is a painting of what we have to sell.”

From the canvas, brilliantly rendered, lavishly opulent, gazed a golden, bejewelled leopard.

To her pleasure, even the calculating Gerald was impressed. But not for long. “This won’t do. Who the devil is going to believe a painting?”

“The real question,” said Duran, “is whether someone recognizes the image. You’re gamester enough to mark the twitch in the hands, the flicker in the eyes. That’s why you are the one to undertake this search. And of course you should make note of anyone interested in buying the icon, should we resort to selling it.”

“I have another question,” Gerald said, gesturing at the painting. “If I locate someone in possession of one of these, how do you propose getting it away from him?”

“That,” Duran responded easily, “would be my concern.”

“We’ll see. And another thing. You claim to have its twin, but I’ve no proof of that.”

“You astonish me. There is no obligation on your part, sir. If you dislike this enterprise, by all means take your leave. Or is it that you are concerned about the risks? There are some, I promise you, but—”

“I don’t object to risks,” Gerald snapped. “I enjoy them. But I’ll not be exploited. If there’s a real icon, I want to see it.”

“Certainly,” said Duran. “My dear?”

She had concealed the wooden box in the wall safe behind a painting of a Berkshire pig. When she’d removed it to a table, Duran dealt with the locks, unwrapped the statue, and set it on a table for Gerald to examine.

But all the while, it was Duran’s eyes she was watching, his reaction she was anticipating. It was all she could have wished.

Gerald whistled between his teeth. “Satan’s ballocks! Is that solid gold?”

“Near enough,” Duran said, recovering smoothly. “A core of base metal, possibly, for strength, but I’m not poking holes in it to find out. This leopard, like its littermate, must be in pristine condition if we are to sell the pair back to Alanabad. And that’s the big game, of course, the gamble of a lifetime. If we succeed, we’ll be rich. Second-best is to sell this as a one-of-a-kind artifact. Should all else fail, we render it down for the gems and the gold.”