Gaze rising, she looked upward, thinking of the bedrooms, sitting rooms, bathing chambers and dressing rooms above. “If I were Sangay, I’d curl up in some unlikely spot-one that might be overlooked.”

Del nodded. “I’d wager that’s exactly what he’s done. And the rooms upstairs provide more scope for that.”

Vane and Patience emerged from the conservatory. Vane shook his head. Patience looked down, straightening her gown.

In the distance, Devil’s voice rang out. “All clear?”

Vane called back from their wing. They heard Gabriel reply from the other. Sangay wasn’t on the ground floor.

“Right, then!” Devil called. “Everyone back to the front hall, then it’s up to the first floor.”

Like well-ordered troops, they all headed for the hall.


Searching thoroughly ate the minutes; the light was starting to fade by the time Deliah and Del, along with all the others, trudged up the main stairs to the second floor.

All the men were starting to look a trifle grim.

Casting a glance at Del as she went past him into the first room they were due to search-a good-sized bedchamber-Deliah inwardly humphed. “I have to say that, quite aside from seeing a room through different eyes, Honoria was very wise in suggesting we search in pairs.” She halted by the foot of the four-poster bed and, hands on hips, surveyed the bedchamber. “At least this way there’s a lady with every overpowering man.”

Del threw her an uncomprehending frown as he walked to the armoire standing against one wall. “We aren’t overpowering.”

“Oh, yes, you are-even you. Or at least you’ll appear that way to a young boy who knows you’re after him.” She started with the bed, bending to check beneath it, then patting the pile of pillows and bolsters at its head.

Even though Sangay had some knowledge of Del, Del was still a man of action-a hard, military man. Even though he’d been out of uniform the entire time she’d known him, there was absolutely no chance of mistaking his bearing. Those shoulders, the way he moved.

As if seeking to refresh her memory, without conscious thought she glanced across the room.

Turning from the armoire, he caught her gaze. Held it for an instant, then slowly arched a brow. “What?”

She waved. “Nothing.” Suddenly feeling unaccountably warm, she turned and went to the window.

Del watched her pat down the cushions covering the wide window seat, then focus her attention on the swagged curtains. Noted the way her hands fluttered as she fussed. That glance she’d cast him…no matter what she said, it meant something. Said something.

Of how she saw him.

Given his resolution of the morning, put in abeyance but only postponed by the search, that-how she saw him-was something he wanted to know. Needed to know.

And, unlike every other couple he’d laid eyes on, he and she had yet to take a break from their searching to investigate other things.

Rounding the bed on silent feet, he closed in on her.

Finished with the window and its accoutrements, she turned-into his arms.

She started, startled, but her body knew his and softened immediately his arms closed around her.

Her widening eyes darted to the door.

Her lips parted-on what protest he didn’t need to know.

He swooped and covered them with his, took them in a long, lingering, searching kiss. With slow deliberation he filled her mouth, her mind, her senses, with something he wanted her to think about instead-him.

He kissed, and persuaded. Lured her into the silent communion, then used it.

Used the caress as a means to show her, to reveal and explain and cajole. He let all that he intended, all that he felt, well and flow through the interaction.

From him, to her.

This was what he felt for her, this was what he wanted, what he needed from her. The comfort, the inexpressible closeness, the simple joy.

The pleasure, yes, but beneath that, more important than that, he wanted and needed…her.

Just her, being there.

Just her, in his arms.

Just her lips against his and her body surrendered.

Her commitment. To simply being there.

For him.

Deliah couldn’t mistake the tenor of his kiss, the truth, the simple honesty, the directness. As if barriers had fallen, as if he’d set some shield aside, she felt immeasurably closer, more linked.

More a part of him.

Sensed that he would be-wanted to be-more a part of her.

Myriad images whirled through her mind. The faint color in Patience’s cheeks as she’d left the conservatory, the glint of something in Catriona’s fine eyes-and the devilish look in her husband’s-when they’d finally congregated on the floor below…was this what they’d been doing?

And was that what she and Del were doing now?

Simply being together, a couple together, acknowledging what lay between them…

Admitting what lay between them.

Yes, that was it.

She knew it was unwise, but as his lips moved on hers, as his tongue caressed hers, she sank into the kiss, sank her hands into his hair and gave herself over to it. Gave herself up to it. Surrendered.

To the simple communion of two people who shared.

The caress stretched, warm, real. They’d reached some plateau-of reality, of understanding-and lingered there for some time, long enough to feel settled, before, with obvious reluctance, he drew back.

It was with real regret that she relinquished his lips and, with a sigh, returned to the mundane world.

Opening her eyes, she looked into his. Dark, rich, inexpressibly warm, his gaze held her.

Told her. Spoke to her. Reminded her of all they’d just shared.

He’d meant it, she realized. Meant her to see, to sense, to know. To experience and understand how he felt for her.

Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she felt the same for him.

For long moments, they stood locked in each other’s gaze, communing silently as they had through the kiss.

A noise-a stealthy shuffle of leather on wood-had her blinking.

Had Del frowning. Raising a finger, he laid it across his lips, then hers.

She nodded. They remained as they were, unmoving and silent. Earlier, locked in the kiss, they must have been all but soundless and motionless for minutes-five, or even more. Long enough for someone hidden to have assumed they’d gone.

But where the devil was he?

Slowly, she turned her head, visually searched one side of the room while Del did the same for the other.

She didn’t immediately see it, not even when another slight sound reached her ears. But the sound fixed her attention on the window…on the window seat.

Del had turned, too. He studied the seat, then glanced at her.

They exchanged a look, then he nodded.

His arms fell from her. Together they turned and silently crept across the floor to the window.

It was a bay window. Without touching anything, she peered around and out, looking through the side panel along the wall of the house. She saw the window of the next bedchamber along-another bay. It would be identical to the window they were studying, and it told her what she needed to know.

Groping blindly, she grasped Del’s sleeve, tugged. Glancing at him, she pointed out of the side window, then silently stepped back.

He looked, saw, but when he turned back to her, incomprehension lit his eyes.

With her hands, she sketched in the air what he’d seen-the protrusion of the bay beyond the wall. It didn’t stop at the bottom of the window, as some bays did, nor did it stop at the level of the window seat. The built-out section continued to floor level, including the area between the seat and the floor.

There was a cavity of some kind beneath the seat.

Understanding dawned; Del pointed below the seat, and she nodded.

Carefully, they lifted the cushions off the wooden seat. Del felt with his fingers, and located the hinges set in the wooden top near the wall.

He glanced at her, and reached for the edge of the window seat.

She did the same, grasping the wooden edge.

She drew breath, then together they swung the seat back.

And looked down into a shadowed box, and a pair of stunned dark eyes.

“Aii-yii!” Sangay let out a wail, struggled to his feet, and tried to leap from the box.

Del caught him, initially by the collar, but when Sangay, head down, flailed at him, he grabbed one thin arm, then the other, swung Sangay around and, pinning his arms to his body, hoisted him out of the window seat and stood him on his feet on the floor.

Trapped with his back to Del, Sangay wriggled, squirmed, then tried to kick.

“Sangay!” Deliah loaded the word with command, and was relieved when the boy slowed his struggles to glance at her. “Stop it. You’ll only hurt yourself. The colonel doesn’t want to hurt you-no one will hurt you if you’ll just stand still.”

Eyes huge, he stared at her, sniffed.

Then his face crumpled. “Oh, no, miss-you don’t understand. The man-the evil sahib-he will hurt my maataa if I don’t-” He caught his breath on a giant sob. “If I don’t, he will…”

Overcome, Sangay opened his mouth to wail again.

“No, he won’t.” Releasing Sangay’s arms, Del dropped a hand on his bony shoulder, gripped firmly. “The evil-sahibs won’t be able to hurt your maataa, Sangay.”

Very slowly, Sangay turned his head to look up at Del. The dawning, all but disbelieving hope in his eyes was painful to see. “They won’t?”

Del shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll be able to. But to be sure, you’ll need to tell us your tale-where you come from, and how you came to be working for the evil-sahibs.”

Sangay swallowed, his eyes locked on Del’s face. “Only one, colonel-sahib. I have seen only one evil-sahib.”