Mistaken Identity (Saved By Desire 3) by Rebecca King Page B

inwardly relieved that she didn’t have to explain this to anybody.
    When Marcus moved, her instinctive gasp drew his attention. He was about to ask her if she was alright again when he saw the tell-tale blush stain her cheeks. Leaning over her, he smiled down into her somewhat shy gaze.
    Dropping a playful kiss on her lips, he shifted again until he was lying completely over her.
    “I c-can’t,” she whispered, appalled at the waywardness of her body when it began to tingle with sensual anticipation. “Not again.”
    Marcus grinned. “I don’t believe I have ever shown you how quickly a body can recover.”
    “Oh?” Jessica gasped when he began to do delicious things with his lips again, and set about learning everything her body could do.
     
    Marcus yawned and looked down at the woman beside him. At some point over the last two hours, he had carried her up the stairs to her bedroom whereupon he had set about showing her exactly why he could not walk away.
    She was now safely tucked up beneath the sheets, sated, exhausted, and fast asleep.
    He wished he could stay with her, but he couldn’t. He had work to do. Forcing himself to leave the bed, he placing a tender kiss on her brow, tugged the covers up, and left her to sleep.
    Out in the corridor, he contemplated which room to search first. He had never seen anyone return to their rooms so had no idea which room belonged to whom. However, he had to take advantage of everybody being out of the house to search the place. Now that Jess was asleep, he could do so without interruption.
    Taking pot luck, he decided to work his way toward his room from the opposite side of the house.
    It was easy to pick out Mr. Brammall’s room. The pink silks and light blue of his clashing shirts spoke of a rather effeminate character. The powder pots, wigs, and high buckled shoes were more befitting the ballrooms of the ton from a bygone era and certainly didn’t belong in such a countrified place like Smothey. It made Marcus wonder what had driven him to pick a village like Smothey to live in because it was such a strange place for him to choose. He got no answers from the room. The papers in the drawer were personal but gave very little away about the man he truly was. A letter to an aged aunt; a few notes; a brief letter to a friend in London. All of which gave Marcus no hint that the man was up to something sinister.
    It was just that the man didn’t fit the place – but did that make him suspicious? Did he have reason to suspect Brammall of anything?
    “Until you get proof of his innocence, don’t discount him,” he mused as he let himself into the room next door.
    “Mr Ball,” he mused as he studied the piles and piles of books littering two thirds of the floor space. He took a moment to study the spines but found nothing other than an odd mix of philosophy, nature, etiquette, and a few fiction books. Unless he took the time to shake out each book, he had no way of finding any personal papers hidden inside. There was no clue about the man’s personality in the book titles either. It was just a random selection anyone could pick up from a pawn shop. He considered that while he studied the room.
    There was something niggling him only he couldn’t quite grasp what it was. It hovered in the darker recesses of his mind but was as elusive as Jess’ brother. There were hidden secrets in the room, he just knew it. He just had no hope of finding out what they were unless he turned the room over completely, and he had neither the time nor the opportunity for that. He had to wait.
    It was only when he was about to leave that he glanced back into the room and realised then what it was. Closing the door, he thoughtfully made his way to the room next door.
    Mr Abernathy was the man who purportedly worked studiously – well – somewhere. The room was, for all intents and purposes, just an ordinary room occupied by someone with a tidy mind.
    “Too tidy,” he murmured, eyeing the