Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Seven Years Later

Wren

I t wasn't that Wren had never ridden by the home where Emilia had once lived, where he and Aiden had fallen in love with her and with each other all those years ago. He did so regularly, trying to will himself not to look at the place, always failing. In the last year, he had done so more often, drawn back by something he had seen on an investigation he'd taken. One he'd technically failed, though the man who hired him didn't know that. But it had reminded him of the love he'd been trying to stifle for so long.

Now, though, he passed by the tidy row home on his way to a far grander place. An estate he also sometimes visited, though he hated to pass by because he feared what he would see within its walls. He had been called there and he reached into the inside pocket of his great coat as his horse slowed in heavier traffic, and fingered the heavy sheet of paper with the address and the single line:

Your presence is requested by Viscount Wilburn.

Emilia's husband. Wren's stomach turned at the thought, but he still managed to guide himself the rest of the way to his destination. He was met by finely liveried servants and led into a beautiful parlor just off the foyer where tea awaited on an impeccably carved sideboard.

Everything about this place was elegant. He could see Emilia in it. Feel her presence in every corner and his heart ached.

The door behind him opened and he turned to watch Lord Wilburn enter the chamber. The man was older than Emilia by twenty years, which would put him in his mid-forties. He was very tall, though not quite as tall as Wren, and had an intensity to his gaze as he swept it over Wren.

"My lord," Wren said, and couldn't help but glance behind the man to see if Emilia would join them as well. He had to believe she was the reason behind him being called here. Yes, he had a reputation as an investigator for men of the viscount's ilk, but he couldn't believe that his arrival was a mere coincidence of his status.

"Mr. Wren, at last we meet," Wilburn said, his tone cold as the deepest winter. "Thank you for coming today."

Wren tried to behave as though this were a normal day, a normal potential client even, though his heart was racing out of control. "I will say I was confused as to why you summoned me. There were no details in your missive, which is out of the ordinary."

Wilburn motioned to the chairs before his fire and they sat, Wren trying not to worry his hands in his lap because he could feel his every move and word being judged.

"I thought that if I told you the reason for my request, you would not come," Wilburn said, and his tone somehow became icier. "Or that you would arrive with sword drawn rather than as you are now."

Wren wrinkled his brow. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"You keep glancing at the door," Wilburn said with the hint of a smile that held no friendliness. "You think you are being subtle about it, but it's obvious to me. You are looking for Lady Wilburn."

For what felt like a lifetime, Wren froze. The two men stared at each other as the clock ticked in the background. Wren clenched a hand around the armrest of his chair and at last he said, "Your wife, the viscountess. I assume you must know we were acquainted with each other as children, so I suppose I did believe she was the reason you called for me."

"Knew each other as children. Yes, that is one way to put it," Wilburn said softly. "Another way is that your father had dealings with hers. That you were allowed, by some miracle of her late father's ridiculous lack of boundaries, to be her friend . You and that other one…Mr. Edwards, the solicitor."

Wren felt his nostrils flaring. "You do know quite a bit. Yes, the three of us were friendly as children. Her father was a second son, but more interested in his obsessions and hobbies than in societal expectations."

"I ended that, though, didn't I?"

There was such a cruel bent to this man's words and to his growing smile. He seemed to be daring Wren to lash out and it took everything in him from doing just that.

"You and her father made an arrangement," he said as mildly as he could. "As so many of your rank do. It allowed him to continue with his work and you received a bride."

"A bride," Wilburn repeated. "But hardly a wife."

Wren flinched. "You obviously want to say something to me—why don't you say it and have it out? I don't have time for this game you seem to wish to play, my lord. I have other appointments today."

"I think you'll want to cancel those once you've heard my news," Wilburn said. "You see, you could look all day at the door for Emilia , but she'll never come. The viscountess was kidnapped yesterday morning."

Wren jumped to his feet at that abruptly given news as the cold hand of abject terror gripped his heart and squeezed. "What? Emilia kidnapped? What do you know? Have there been demands? Was she injured? Did you employ the guard to your cause?"

Wilburn didn't move from his seat and instead arched a brow. "Sit down, Mr. Wren."

Wren stared down at him, so cool and settled, with his hands folded on his knee as if they were discussing nothing more important than the weather. "How are you not panicked, Wilburn?"

"Because she was taken by your old friend, Aiden Edwards."

Wren sat back down with a thunk as he stared at Wilburn. "What?"

"Yes. Apparently his obsession with my wife, unlike your own, never cooled. He took her from this home yesterday—he was seen doing so by her maid. And given your past and the fact that his behavior must anger you…after all, you were once rivals for her, yes? Well, I thought you would be the perfect investigator to send to find them. To bring my wife back and make sure that the bastard who stole her will pay."

* * *

Emilia

E milia sat on the bed in the master chamber in the cottage a day and a half's ride outside of London. She sighed, the sound ragged even to her own ears. The last two nights had been rough. Running from London, spending one night in a barn, another in the carriage Aiden had procured for them. Her neck hurt and her body felt heavy and restless.

What was she doing?

There was a light knock on the chamber door and she faced it as Aiden stepped inside. Her breath caught as she looked at him. For seven years she hadn't seen this man, seven years she had only dreamed of him and of Wren, until Aiden had reappeared briefly in her life, then at her window to sweep her away. He had changed and yet he was the same. Older now, his thick, muscular body was more fully formed and his cheeks were dark with a short, well-kept beard. He held himself with more certainty, with more sensuality.

And the tension that had existed between them when they were younger was even stronger now that she knew more about pleasure and desire and unfulfilled dreams.

"Is the room acceptable?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's very fine, Aiden."

"I checked the property and made some inquiries. It doesn't seem we've been followed," he said. "For now, at least, we'll be safe here. No one knows about this place."

"It's yours?" she asked.

"Yes. I was left it by a client two years ago as payment for a contract that delivered him a hefty sum. It was a secret little hideout for the gentleman and so it isn't well known."

Some of the fear that had been brewing in her chest eased. "Good. Good. Then we can breathe for a while. We can try to figure out what to do next. Or…or I can."

Aiden took a long step toward her. "You aren't alone, Emilia. I'm here."

She let her eyes flutter shut on a shaky sigh and tried to calm her pounding heart. She'd been alone for so long, isolated from the two people she loved most…and then isolated from even more than that as the marriage she had been forced into had disintegrated further and further. Become dangerous.

She'd been cornered into her most recent decisions by desperation and terror. But with Aiden standing across the room, she felt safe for the first time in years.

"Emilia."

He had moved while she sat with her eyes closed, his voice closer now. She opened them and looked up to find he was just in front of her. He caught her hand and drew her to her feet, intensity in the brown of his stare. By God, but she had missed him.

"Aiden," she whispered, just above a breath.

And then his mouth covered hers and breath departed her lungs entirely. His lips were firm and warm, but still gentle, just as he was gentle even though he was so much bigger than she was and could have forced her to do anything he wished. When was the last time she had encountered gentleness?

She couldn't remember and so she wound her arms around his neck and drowned in it now. Drowned in the way they opened their mouths at the same time and the kiss deepened. Their tongues warred and the gentleness of the caress became edged with need and desire and longing that had separated them for so long. She gripped the lapels of his jacket, lifting into him, trying to mold herself even closer as he tugged her to his chest and she felt the long, hard length of his strong body.

His hands glided down her back and his fingers smoothed along her backside, clenching slightly, pulling her against his erection.

She moaned and whimpered, "Oh my God."

Her voice seemed to pull him from his state and he drew back, staring down at her, searching her face for what felt like an eternity. Then he sighed. "We should send word to Wren."

Just his name made her heart throb even harder, but she shook her head. "I've done enough to hurt you—I can't hurt him too."

"But he'd want to know, Emilia," Aiden said as he released her and stepped back. "He could even help. He has connections through his vocation that I don't. We left him out last time, I don't want to regret doing it again."

She thought briefly of her husband. The viscount was not the kind of man who would let something be stolen from him. And she was his property, he had made that clear for a very long time. The law, she knew, would agree, and she feared what would happen then, and not just to her.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I'm afraid?—"

Before she could finish that sentence, there was a loud pounding at the door to the cottage. They both froze and she stared at Aiden, seeing fear flash through his gaze.

"Hide," he said as he backed from the bedroom. "No one should know we're here."

Her hands were shaking as she hurried toward the long curtains that covered the window. She ducked behind them, careful that her slippers didn't stick out below the edge, and held her breath as she heard Aiden moving in the other room while the pounding at the door continued.

There was so much emotion to the racket, so much purpose. It had to be her husband. Somehow he must have found them and now everything would be lost and Aiden would be destroyed alongside her.

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked at them. She needed to be strong now, especially if she was going to find some way to save Aiden. Save herself. At least for a while.

"Who is it?" Aiden called out.

"It's me."

Emilia shoved the curtains aside at the sound of that voice outside. Even muffled through two doors, she knew it. Would have known it anywhere. Her heart soared with it, roared with it.

Wren. Wren was here, even though they hadn't called him. And she was afraid and thrilled in equal measure.