Free Fanning the Flame by Kat Martin

the way, I heard Howard Telford has posted a reward for her capture."
    "Christ."
    "As I said, I'll do a little digging, see what I can find out. If I learn anything new, I'll let you know." Clay clapped a big hand on Adam's shoulder. "Take care, my friend."
    Adam watched him leave, then returned to the study. Sitting in front of the fire, Jillian stood up when he walked in.
    "You were right about Rathmore," she said. "I believe he's a man of honor."
    "He'll do what he can to help."
    "Because the two of you are friends?"
    "Yes. And because he wants to see the earl's murderer brought to justice."
    "The same reason, then, that you are helping me."
    That and his growing determination to have her in his bed. His eyes moved over her in a slow, thorough perusal. "Among other things, yes."
    Jillian made no reply, but a hint of color crept into her cheeks. Good. He wanted her to know he wanted her. As soon as he was sure she wasn't in any way involved in the murder, he meant to have her.
    "I need to get started on this," he said, reaching over to pick up the sheet of foolscap that contained his notes. He was headed for Bow Street to speak to Peter Fraser. He wanted this matter ended and Jillian freed from suspicion.
    Most of all—he wanted her in his bed.
     
    Chapter Six
     
    Another restless night, dreams of war, and erotic dreams of the woman asleep in the room next door. He needed to get out of the house, Adam thought the following morning, needed to get away from his turbulent thoughts for a while.
    As he strode down the hall toward the stairs, he cast only the briefest glance at Jillian's bedchamber door. He was on his way to the stable. He had missed his early morning rides, and even his late night strolls had fallen prey to his preoccupation with the mystery of Fenwick's murder. He needed to get out, and riding was the best way he knew.
    He had almost reached the bottom of the stairs when he spotted Maude Flynn hurrying toward him. His senses went on alert at the worried look on her face.
    "What is it, Maude?"
    " ’Tis your cousin, milord . . . Mistress Winslow. The lass is nowhere ta be found. She's not in her room, nor anywheres about. Ya don't think maybe she decided to go back to the country without lettin' ya know she was leavin'?"
    The muscles across his shoulders went tense. "Are you sure she's not here? My . . . cousin is an early riser. Perhaps she's in the library. Or maybe she is out in the garden."
    "I've looked, milord. Sure as there'll be hell to pay if the Little Corporal wins the war, the lass is gone."
    Adam clamped hard on his jaw. Maude was right. If she wasn't in the house, she very likely had taken off for the country. Leaving the city was the best chance she had of escaping the gallows. Clay had suggested she might run and it looked as though she finally had.
    Fenwick's lying little doxy would have known, sooner or later, he would find out she was the one who'd committed the murder.
    Adam's hand unconsciously fisted. He'd sworn he would never be duped by a pretty face again, yet it appeared that was exactly what had happened. Anger surged through him, so hot it made the heat rise at the back of his neck. Storming up the stairs, he slammed open the door to her bedchamber, not quite sure what he would find, thinking of the morning of the funeral when she had tried to leave, wondering if she had meant to run even then.
    His gaze searched the room. She wouldn't be able to take much with her, but surely she wouldn't go without a change of clothes and something she could sell, a silver candlestick, perhaps, or a small brass lamp, since as far as he knew, she had no money of her own.
    But the room looked surprisingly normal, the rose silk counterpane turned back, the bed unmade but obviously slept in, her night rail draped over the tufted velvet bench at the foot of the bed. If she meant to run, why had she waited until morning? Or perhaps she had mussed the bed to make it look as though she had slept there