The Reinvented Miss Bluebeard (London Paranormal 03) (28 page)

Hook laughed wickedly, crushing her breast again and tearing at her gown, the tiny pearl buttons popping. As a portion of her chemise and breasts were revealed, Eve again called Adam's name.

Hook silenced her with another ruthless kiss. His arousal was thick and hard against her stomach, and the feel of it was so different from Adam's seductions that she cringed. But her subsequent effort to free herself only made the kiss turn brutally savage.

Hook's attention was so focused that he missed the ripping open of the curtains. Cold fury filled Adam's face as he took in the despicable situation. His heart was racing and his throat felt tight. Hearing Eve's call had filled him with fear. He had died a hundred deaths racing to her aid. Now, with lightning-quick reflexes, he ducked low and flew at Hook, taking the pirate captain down with a crash.

Eve stared, unable to believe her eyes. Her savior had arrived. It was Adam, so quick on his feet that he was like the winged god Mercury. She clapped her hands in admiration and joy.

Adam punched Hook in the face. There came a crack, and Hook's nose flattened. Blood spattered him and he swung at Adam with his hook, missing flesh but gouging the flap of Adam's jacket. His attack also caught the draperies, tearing them the rest of the way open as the two men crashed out into the hallway.

Eve followed, a smile forming on her lips. Adam was fighting for her honor just like every husband should do for his wife.
What an amazing man
! she thought with bemusement. In some ways he was an impostor, but he was also a prize.

"Watch out for his hook," Eve warned, making a fist and holding it up in front of her, giving an imaginary jab.

"Ouch!" Hook had just slammed a fist into Adam's face.

The hallway was now cluttered with people from the lecture. Dr. Sigmund came to stand beside Eve, taking in her torn clothing, and he scowled at Hook. "Hit him a good one, Adam!" he cried.

The bent Hook swung again, but Adam dodged the assault. As his opponent redoubled his efforts and managed to kick him in the thigh, Adam retaliated by ducking low and swinging hard. His punch caught Hook's shoulder, and as Eve cheered him on, along with Dr. Sigmund, Adam's foot next connected with Hook's groin. The pirate fell to his knees, clutching his privates while blood trickled down his face.

Several of Hook's crew barged into the hall and shoved Adam back. One of them grabbed their captain, while two others held threatening pistols at the crowd.

Glaring at the doubled-over villain, Adam snarled, "Leave my wife alone or I'll kill you, you son of a wharf rat! I'll tear you to pieces bit by bit and feed you to the sharks!"

Hook glowered, blood covering his face and his clothes. "I'll see ye in hell, and I'll be the one sending ye there," he vowed. But with those words, he and his men disappeared down the hall.

"Should we follow them?" one of the onlookers asked.

Adam and Eve both shook their heads. Adam quickly assessed her appearance, looking closely for serious damage. "No, we wouldn't be able to catch them," he said. "Wererats."

Several of the gentlemen nodded, while Dr. Sigmund said, "Ah, that explains the remarkably quick escape. Dr. Griffin, are you all right?" he asked Eve.

"I'm fine, thanks to Adam. But I thank you for your concern."

"I think I should take my wife home now," Adam spoke up.

Dr. Sigmund nodded. "We should attend to other matters right now, ourselves," he said with some perspicacity. He rapidly ushered the rest of the group down the hallway.

Eve glanced at the departing crowd and then at Adam. The look in his eyes was one of concern, yet it also held a glint of fierce triumph. He had fought for her and won. Eve recognized the expression instinctively, a very primitive reaction that had her heart speeding up and her breath hitching. Adam cherished her and valued her, and she trusted him more for it. She now knew that he wanted to add to her life, not take from it, and he wanted to walk by her side and not before or after her. He would dry her tears when life's great tragedies befell them, and cheer her up too. In essence, Adam would make the everyday extraordinary.

She paused to tenderly wipe the blood off his cheek. She saw so much that was new. Her husband was a strong character, and dependable, a man who hid much of himself behind a sharp wit and droll humor. But what lay underneath was a man to lean on, a man to trust. In short, Adam was a man for all seasons. And her father—her horrible, meddling, obnoxious, assertive… wonderful, wise father—had sent him to her.

Glancing down at his beloved, Adam was struck by the look in her eyes: Eve had stopped running. Wanting to throw back his head and bellow in triumph, he restrained his urge. Finally, the love of his life was beginning to understand the depths of his affection.

Taking her hand, he pulled her toward a back exit. Once outside, he again examined her closely, making sure she was uninjured; then he kissed her tenderly while lifting her into their carriage. He followed, saying, "Thank God you're safe." Rapping on the carriage roof, he shouted, "Anchors aweigh, James."

"You were quite the hero in there," she replied. "But you made a deadly enemy," she fretted, her eyes worried. He had a bruise on his jaw and a cut cheek, but he looked dashingly disheveled. And the fierceness with which he had defeated Hook had roused her passions. Her hubby had been adamantly protective, and he had won. And while she knew it was a shallow thought, something in her Bluebeard heritage loved and needed a winner. "I guess I should admit that I was a tiny bit awed by that rousing display of manliness."

Grabbing her hand, he squeezed it enthusiastically. "Only a tiny bit? And I thought I was quite the knight in shining armor, riding in to do battle with your dragon—"

"Wererat," she interrupted.

Adam chuckled. Then he leaned closer, his voice a soft whisper against her face. "At last, my strategy is working. In spite of our inauspicious meeting, you admire and respect me. At long last."

"Not that long," she replied, her voice teasing. "You are all right, aren't you? You're not hurt badly?"

"No. And you?" he asked tersely, studying her cut lip.

"No. I must admit I was worried there for a short while, but you came to my rescue."

"You're an amazing woman, Eve Bluebeard. Most women would have fallen into a fit of vapors or crying hysterics. Not you. But then, you are made of sterner stuff. You didn't even fly off into a tizzy."

"No, I'll leave flying to Mr. Pryce."

Adam laughed. Lust rushing through his blood, he began nipping at her neck. Then, with great confidence, he kissed her cheek. Tonight he would be victorious, and this pirate's daughter would be trimming his sails. At last the family jewels would be buried by a Bluebeard.

"Adam?" Eve asked.

"Yes?" Minutes earlier she had looked happy, but now he saw she looked worried.

"Did Dr. Sigmund tell you the committee's decision?"

Adam thought about lying to her, but he found he couldn't do that. "Yes. Eve, it's not that bad, but… it's also not the best of news."

"What?" Her voice was filled with trepidation, and she gazed anxiously at him.

"They are giving us the fourth grant."

"But that will barely last six months," Eve complained. "How could they do this? The Towers needed the first grant—or at least the second one. Even the third would have been better."

Adam drew her into the sheltering circle of his arms, holding her tight and intending to offer her comfort. They rode through the dark night. The sounds of the wheels filled the silence, but as time passed, temptation raised its swollen purple head. The scent and feel of her was too much, and Adam forgot his decision to leave Eve alone until her disappointment was not so keen. He began to kiss her cheeks, her nose, and her lips, finally moving to the silky smoothness of her neck.

Encased in misery and feeling sorry for herself, Eve suddenly found her attention caught by Adam's tender ministrations. He began to kiss her neck, and her insides began to tingle. Warmth invaded her body, and her toes curled in her slippers. Fickle toes! They certainly hadn't curled when Hook mauled her. But as Adam slipped his tongue into her ear, she began to shiver in delight.

"You need me, Eve," he said. "You want me, darling. I bet you're wet with desire."

Her blue eyes were glassy, and his words sizzled through her. Rot the blighter if he wasn't right, for she felt a gush of liquid between her thighs. "How could this happen so quickly? I am a rational person, a doctor," she said. "One doesn't just snap her fingers and find love knocking at her door."

"I didn't knock," he managed to growl, the warm tenderness in his eyes becoming blazing-hot desire. His arousal pressed against her, showing his attraction, and he leaned over and suckled on her breast. Lifting his head, he begged, "Darling, let me love you."

The sound of crunching gravel and James's shout interrupted, however. Eve quickly pushed against him. "Adam! Stop that. We've arrived back at the Towers. We can't do this on my doorstep!"

Adam groaned, his blood burning, his manhood literally ready to explode at any moment. "Then for pity's sake, let's hurry to your bedroom."

Eve's heart was thundering in her chest as she straightened what she could of her gown. Need was riding her shoulders, for she indeed wanted this man to take possession of her, to introduce to her to the delights of the marriage bed. She had waited too long, and this would be a night never to forget.

The driver had opened the door and placed the steps for her to get down. Adam followed, then grabbed her hand. Together they ran up the steps to the asylum, laughing merrily. They took the stairs two at a time, and Eve hadn't felt so carefree since her days on the
Jolly Roger
.

No sooner had they burst through the front door, than the towering Teeter grimly greeted them. "The little bald fellow has been digging holes again, the fanged gentleman is most upset about his dirty bed, and the buggy patient has flown himself into a web," he reported.

Things were generally crazy, Eve knew, but for a grown man, (or werewolf) to be caught in a trifling spiderweb made no sense at all. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Teeter, have you been drinking?"

"Oh, madam, if only I had," he replied.

Through the window, Eve saw Mrs. Monkfort waxing some fronds near the pond. Sir Loring was there, too, pacing frantically in the conservatory, looking for dirt, which Eve assumed Mrs. Monkfort had removed.

Adam glanced at Eve. Apparently his desires were to be thwarted once again. He asked in a voice filled with irritation, "I don't suppose we could just get back in the carriage?"

Eve narrowed her eyes in weary resignation, then dutifully followed Teeter into the conservatory.

Adam sighed, reluctantly trudging after them. He knew patience was a virtue, but he'd never been very virtuous. He was the conquering hero, but with no reward.

Shrugging with ill grace, he grumbled, "Somewhere tonight, people are happy and laughing. Perhaps they're at a ball, or a musical, and they are sharing heated glances and secret assignations. Somewhere tonight, young lovers are lying entwined in each other's arms, but it bloody well isn't here."

And was this as good as it was ever going to get?

Adam's eyes widened. Sir Loring was dashing about the conservatory, crying mournfully and tearing out fistfuls of his hair. "That woman! That maddening madwoman has thrown out my native soil. The native soil that filled my coffin. What shall I do? I'm doomed—doomed!"

Mrs. Monkfort peeked over the fountain. The garden room was filled with a dense array of foliage and colorful flowers. It was an exotic jungle with the rich scents of earth and hundreds of flowering plants. Normally it was a place of sanctuary and serenity. Not today.

"Oh, dear," Eve remarked, a frown furrowing her brow. This was serious. Vampires had to have their native soil close at hand in case of accidents, since native soil aided greatly in their regeneration. It also helped vampires who had a tendency toward hysteria, calming their overwrought nerves. Sir Loring, more than most undead, was particularly grounded in his soil.

Turning to the culprit in question, Eve leveled a stern look at her. "Mrs. Monkfort?!"

The woman pointed an accusatory finger at the vampire. "I won't have all this dirt in my house. It's disgraceful and so, well… dirty!"

"Mrs. Monkfort, it wasn't your dirt, and this isn't your house. It's mine. You had no right to throw away anyone's dirt, or even to touch another patient's belongings," Eve replied. "Where is the dirt?"

"Where you'll never find it. Never."

Sir Loring continued to whine.

Teeter groaned. "It's an orchard in here, I tell you. Every day, a veritable new treeful of fruits. I must insist on higher wages. I can't take much more. Especially if I'm to do this sober."

Adam silently seconded the butler's thoughts.

"There's too much dirt," Mrs. Monkfort continued. "Too much nasty, nasty dirt. And naughty little bugs crawling around in it. We're got a long, long way to go before we're clean. And that bloody leprechaun isn't making my task any easier," she added, pointing.

Eve glanced over to where Mrs. Monkfort was motioning, where Fester was digging up the flower beds. "Fester!" she yelled in outrage, spotting two very large holes near her orchids. "How could you?"

At the sight of Fester's panicked face and his wife's fury, Adam couldn't help but laugh.

Eve put her hands on her hips, incensed. Adam should be helping her halt this nonsense, but instead he was hysterical. Well, she would have a long talk with him and remind him of a husband's duty—both to a wife and to her mad patients.

Fester turned a guilty glance their way and set aside his shovel. He knew better than to dig a deeper hole for himself, especially when Dr. Eve was wearing her little-admiral look. His ship was sunk.

Placing a hand on his wife's shoulder, Adam narrowed his eyes in speculation. Could Fester's gold finally be here? He hoped so. What Captain Bluebeard had paid him had been a great help, but a man could always use more. Especially if he were to do what he truly wanted.