The Copper and the Madam by Karyn Gerrard Page A

her
hips across his erection until he moaned. She laughed and hopped to
her feet. Opening the door a crack, she gave Caroline instructions,
and closed it again.
     
    Cian leaned against the kitchen wall waiting
for the cook’s arrival. So Rory would be staying in the madam’s
room? Well, he should be happy for the bloke, grab a little joy
where you can find it, however brief. Aye, something he should live
by and all.
    He straightened when soft footfalls reached
his hearing. Cian removed his hat and ran his hand through his long
locks.
    The young woman, though slight, stood
straight and gave him a defiant lift of her chin. She did not
flinch from his intense gaze. She wore a plain gray dress with a
starched white apron. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight
knot. He made an exaggerated bow. “Detective Cian O’Connor,
Scotland Yard. And who might you be?”
    “Caroline Greenwood. I am the cook here.”
    “Oh aye, just the cook? Sure you don’t work
above stairs in between meals, then?” He winked.
    “Even if I did, I would not be servicing the
likes of you!” Caroline fumed.
    Cian slapped his thigh and laughed heartily.
“Saucy kitchen wench, I like it. Can you cook as well as you
converse, or is your cooking as tart as your tongue?”
    Caroline picked up a ladle and waved it under
his crooked nose.
    “You will never find out, you Irish bastard.
The sergeant said to see you settled. Behind the pantry is a small
room with a cot. It’s good enough for you!” Her face flushed,
enhancing her pretty features.
    Cian pulled out a chair and sat down, laying
his hat on the table in front of him.
    “I’ll be staying right here, Miss Greenwood.
Standing guard for a bit, as it were. Is that stew you’ve got
boiling in the pot?”
    “It is. I suppose you want some.” She
sniffed.
    “If it is not too much trouble. I also could
do with a drink. My mouth is as dry as a crust. Do you have some
ale thereabouts?”
    “You will take a mug of tea and be happy
about it. First I have to take a tray up to Sergeant Kerrigan. You
can wait,” Caroline snapped.
    Cian leaned back in his seat and gave her a
dazzling smile. Hell, he enjoyed this banter; she fired his blood
as no woman had done for many a year.
    “Darlin’, I can wait all day for you. Anyone
ever tell you that when you’re angry, you are a pretty wee thing?
Your lovely eyes flash like blue fire.”
    Caroline faced the stove, hiding her response
to his words. She ladled out the stew into a bowl and placed it on
the tray. After adding bread, cheese, and a mug of tea, Caroline
rushed from the room and headed upstairs.
    The cook did more than fire his blood. She
might be small and delicate in face and form, but inside a
passionate woman lurked. She stirred all manner of thoughts in him.
His cock twitched in response. Aye, aroused. He pushed back from
the table and stood in the doorway. Moments later, Caroline rounded
the corner and stood before him, the top of her head barely
reaching his chin.
    “Let me pass, Irish.”
    “I will…for a kiss.”
    “I’ve no time to bandy words with you, nor
play silly games. Let me pass.”
    Cian lifted her chin with two fingers and met
her gaze. “This is no game, Caroline. Not at all.”
    He lowered his head, and his lips brushed
past hers. Cian cupped her cheek and deepened the kiss, his tongue
flicking at the corner of her mouth. Caroline stiffened in
response.
    “Open darlin’, let me in.”
    Heaven help him, she did. Cian groaned and
pulled her next to him. He hardened further. He cupped her arse and
pulled her in tight next to his throbbing erection. A soft moan
left her throat and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed
him back. Oh feckin’ hell, passionate, just as he surmised.
     
    Southen curled his lip in distaste as he
observed the couple. After a trip through Whitechapel and a quick
fuck in his carriage, he’d decided to head back to Lambeth. Taggart
mentioned the sergeant had returned, with a case, no