Blood Secret. Sharon Page

prostitutes peered at her, and she knew her neck was blushing scarlet, like her cheeks, but she kept searching. The drawers held nothing personal to her brother. There were velvet ropes, manacles, and ivory wands.

      She went to the dresser table, reaching it at the same moment as Greystone. “I should look—I would know what belongs to him.”

      “Be my guest then, my dear.” He stepped back, but as soon as she began to search the marble surface of the table, Greystone returned to stand behind her. Very close. His hands settled on the edge of the table, his chest brushing her back. Soft puffs of his breath coasted over her neck. And against her bottom—

      She had riffled through a glass tray on the vanity twice and could not remember what she had seen in it. “Stop it,” she said to the duke. “Move back. I cannot think with you looming over me.”

      “It bothers you?” His voice lowered to a soft caress beside her ear. “Even after what we’ve done?”

      “Yes. Of course, apparently that did not matter to you. It did not stop you from threatening me,” she answered, keeping her tones so quiet, the prostitutes would not hear. She focused on her search. Hairpins were scattered on the vanity. The small glass dish held a key—perhaps for the wardrobe? A pocket watch, but a cheap one, and it certainly did not belong to Jack. There were ropes laid on the vanity top—when men wanted to do naughty things, ropes seemed to figure quite prominently. She pushed the ropes aside with a furious sweep. “There’s nothing here. Nothing to tell me Jack ever was here. Or where he would go.”

      “He’s run farther than a brothel this time,” Greystone murmured.

      “Thank you. How helpful of you,” she said through gritted teeth.

      “It is possible he has gone to where my nephew is being held.”

      She let out a long breath. “I don’t know where that is.”

      His hands abruptly lifted from the dresser and he stepped back. “All right. I believe you, my dear. So where do you suspect your brother would go?”

      She thought. Screwing up her forehead, shutting her eyes. Where would Jack go? “Another brothel, possibly. Perhaps he ran away because it was time to pay his bill here,” she added. She was not proud of the sarcasm in her voice, but she certainly couldn’t quell it. “Perhaps he ran away to the continent—men do that to escape debts.” Would Jack do it? Once she would never have thought Jack capable of deserting them all like that. When he was a boy, he spoke of sea travel and voyages around the world. He wanted to see Tibet, the Himalayas, which was the place that their dragon clan was supposed to have originally come from. But that had been when he was young and hungry for adventure. She didn’t think such things would interest him now. Now he just wanted liquor, women, and gaming.