Page 72 of His Sinful Touch

Their lovemaking this morning was slow and soft, an almost casual exploration of each other’s bodies and desires. They kissed and touched and murmured, letting their desire grow until at last they came together in another cataclysm of desire, so intense, so sweet, so powerful that it brought tears to Sabrina’s eyes.

Lying there afterward, holding him, Sabrina knew that whatever her past held, her future was with this man. She could not ask Alex to link himself to a woman without a past; she would not hold him to anything beyond this moment. But for her the bond between them would last the rest of her life.

Their morning continued at a slow pace. They rose and dressed and breakfasted without haste, too wrapped up in one another to care about time or their mission. Alex asked the head groom for the name of the place to which they’d returned the horse Sabrina had ridden. The man gave him a curious look, but he did not ask why “Mr. Moore” hadn’t simply gotten the information from his wife, just gave him the name.

They leased a one-horse gig, the only vehicle the stables offered for hire. It was slow, but it was a pleasant enough day that an open vehicle would do, and spending more time driving down a country road with each other had its own appeal.

They traveled west along a narrow lane, clearly not a well-traveled route, arriving after a few hours in the village of Cumbrey. It looked to be an even smaller village than Baddesly Commons, but the main road, which their own lane intersected, was on a well-traveled route to Winchester, and for that reason, it boasted more than one inn.

“The Blind Ox, the head groom said,” Alex said as they turned left and rolled along the wider thoroughfare. “It ought to be easy enough to find an inn with such an unappealing name.”

They had almost reached the edge of town and Sabrina was beginning to think they had gone the wrong way when her eyes fell on an old building done in the distinctive black-and-white pattern of the Tudor era. It sagged here and there as if it had partially melted, giving credence to its having been there since the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

Sabrina stiffened. Her stomach roiled, and suddenly her head felt as if it was about to split in two. “Wait! Stop.”

Alex pulled up and turned toward her. “What? Did you see a sign?”

“This is it!” Sabrina said, her voice hushed but intense. “I’m certain of it. This is where I escaped.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“SABRINA!” ALEX’S EYES WIDENED, and he reached out to take her hand. “You remember it?”

Sabrina did not reply, just clenched his hand tightly. Memories were flooding into her mind, almost swamping her. She climbed down from the gig, Alex right behind her. Instead of going toward the front door of the inn, she started around the side. “The stables.” She flicked her hand to the left. “That’s where I got the horse. I don’t know who it belonged to—it was terrible of me to take it, but I didn’t know what else to do. I had to get away as quickly as I could.”

“Of course you did.”

They reached the back of the inn. She pointed to a small, shedlike extension with a slightly slanted roof that had been built onto the back of the place. “I landed on that.” She looked up at the window above it. “I was in that room, and I climbed out.” She pressed fingers to her temple. “I... It’s fuzzy a little. I was climbing out and I remember falling...yes! He was trying to pull me back in, and he leaned out too far. I tried to pull away, and then suddenly we were falling.” She shivered, her face pale.

“Sabrina, you don’t have to think about it right now.” Alex’s forehead was creased in concern. “We’ll sit—you can have something to drink and rest a bit.”

“No. I’m fine.” The truth was she felt strange and more than a little ill, but it was all roaring through her now, an unstoppable wave sweeping everything before it.

Taking Alex’s hand, she rushed through the back door, startling the cook and a scullery maid, and emerged into a corridor. She hurried toward the stairs at the end of the hallway.

“Where are you going? To the room you pointed?” Alex asked.

“Yes, yes.” Sabrina came to a halt at the top of the stairs and glanced around uncertainly. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember how it looked.” She glanced up at the ceiling and it swam before her eyes. “I remember that light fixture.”

“Judging from the outside, it should be this way.” Alex pointed. “I think.” A maid was walking down the hall, carrying a pail and eyeing them curiously. “Excuse me. Miss...can you tell us which room has the window directly over the roof of the kitchen extension?”

She gave him an odd look, but when he dropped a few pence in her hand, she pointed and said, “That one there. The Bombay room.”

“Bombay?” Alex raised an eyebrow, and the girl smiled.

“Yes, sir. He’s grand, Mr. Hudspeth is. At least there’s a chest from India in it. The St. Petersburg room’s as Russian as my aunt Sally.”

“Is it locked? We’d like to go in and look.”

She shrugged. “No. I just cleaned it.”

Sabrina was already starting toward the door before the girl finished. She swung open the door but paused on the threshold, for a moment overcome by a wave of nausea. She took a half step back, coming up against Alex. The warmth and strength of him was reassuring, and she managed to step into the chamber.

“It was here,” she murmured, her eyes moving slowly around the room. “It’s all...so vague. I was dizzy, and nothing made sense, but I knew...I knew Peter had betrayed me.” She paused, feeling again that stab of pain and loss.

“Betrayed you? How?”

“He... I’m not sure. I just remember feeling it quite strongly. I woke up on that bed.” She closed her eyes, frowning. “I don’t remember coming here or lying down. I was alone and very confused. I didn’t know where I was or why. What had happened.”