Kat Martin

Heart of Fire


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with Gray, but the image would not come. Laurel would have required a gentle lover, someone who understood her shyness, her tender sensibilities. Corrie couldn’t imagine Gray Forsythe in any sort of understanding role. As a lover, he would be demanding, not tender. She wasn’t sure how she knew, she just did.

      Turning away, careful to keep her gaze fixed straight ahead, she walked out of the library. Though she could no longer see the earl, she could feel his gaze on her, burning with the force of a flame. The gossips called him a sensualist, a master in the art of love. It was clear from the books she had seen that he was a student of the erotic.

      The man must know a dozen ways to touch a woman, a hundred ways to heighten the wild sensations that swirled through her body whenever he came near. Had her sister succumbed to the aura of masculinity that surrounded him?

      Each time Corrie was with him, the notion seemed more absurd.

      And yet his wife was dead and so was Laurel.

      The thought sent a cold dash of reality through the fire that seemed to burn through Corrie’s veins.

      Eight

      Krista sat next to Leif in the drawing room of the town house they had purchased in Berkeley Square. Upstairs, their five-month-old son, Brandon Thomas Draugr, Viscount Balfour, heir to the Earl of Hampton, lay napping in the nursery with his nanny.

      “I hope we are doing the right thing.”

      “You have not stopped worrying about Coralee since she left. You will feel better if you do something.”

      “I should have already done something,” Krista said. “I should have stopped her from going in the first place.”

      Leif scoffed. In the light streaming into the drawing room, his golden hair glinted and his eyes looked as blue as the sea. “Your friend is much like you, my love. Once her mind is made up, there is little chance of changing it.”

      Krista sighed. Leif was right. Coralee was as stubborn as Krista. Perhaps that was one of the reasons they had become such good friends.

      “Apparently Allison has been able to keep in touch with Agnes Hatfield, Laurel’s aunt,” Krista said. “We know, for the moment at least, Coralee is safe, but she is taking a terrible risk.”

      Leif didn’t disagree. “Perhaps your Mr. Petersen can help as he did before.” Leif had insisted on hiring the investigator. Now Krista was glad.

      A noise in the doorway drew her attention. “Your guest, Mr. Petersen, is arrived,” the butler announced, a gray-haired man with impeccable credentials who had come to work for them shortly after she and Leif were wed.

      “Send him in, Simmons.” Krista rose along with Leif to greet the investigator they hadn’t seen in nearly a year.

      Dolph Petersen had helped Krista and her father discover the identity of a man trying to destroy the gazette. The villain had been ruthless and determined, willing to go to any lengths, including murder. With Dolph’s help, they had been able to stop him. Krista hoped the investigator would be able to help them again.

      Petersen appeared just then in the doorway, tall and lean, his face hard-edged yet handsome. Leif’s hand settled possessively on Krista’s waist, and Dolph broke into one of his rare smiles.

      “It looks like the newlyweds are still in love. It’s good to see you both. Congratulations on the little one. I heard it was a boy.”

      “Thank you.” Leif’s massive chest expanded with a hint of pride. He was a wonderful father, an attentive husband and a passionate lover. Krista knew how lucky she was.

      Which made her think of Corrie and the trouble she faced, and why Leif had asked the investigator to come to the house.

      “Why don’t we sit down?” she suggested, guiding the small group farther into the drawing room. “Would you like some refreshment, Mr. Petersen? Some tea, or perhaps something stronger?”

      “It’s just Dolph. I think we know each other well enough by now. And I’m fine.”

      Krista and Leif took seats on the sofa and the investigator settled his lean frame in a chair. “So what can I do for you this time?”

      Krista cast a glance at Leif, who nodded for her to begin. “You remember Miss Whitmore?” she asked. “My friend Coralee?”

      “Of course.”

      “Well, she has become involved in a very dangerous intrigue and we are hoping you might be able to help.”

      Petersen leaned forward in his chair. “Go on.”

      Trusting the man’s discretion, for the next half hour Krista and Leif explained about Laurel Whitmore’s death and that of her illegitimate child. They told him the authorities had concluded it was suicide, but Corrie adamantly refused to believe her sister would do anything that would harm her baby.

      “She thinks her sister was murdered,” Leif said. “She is convinced the Earl of Tremaine is the man who killed her.”

      “Grayson Forsythe?” Petersen asked in surprise.

      Leif straightened on the sofa, emphasizing his incredible height. “You know this man?”

      “Yes. Aside from a rakish reputation with women, Gray Forsythe is as honorable as they come. He served in the military in India and was decorated several times before he came home. Why would Miss Whitmore believe the earl would murder her sister?”

      “To begin with, the earl’s estate, Castle Tremaine, sits next to Selkirk Hall. And both Laurel and the earl’s wife were drowning victims. Both died in the Avon River.”

      Krista went on to explain that Jillian Forsythe’s death had left Gray with a goodly sum of money and the chance to resume his numerous affairs. She told him Corrie knew his reputation with women and thought that he must have seduced her sister, gotten her with child, then killed her to prevent a scandal.

      “Interesting. Not much is known about the circumstances of Tremaine’s wife’s death. The family kept the matter fairly quiet.”

      “Well, Coralee has managed to scheme her way into Castle Tremaine pretending to be some long lost cousin, and that is the reason Leif and I are so worried about her.”

      “If the earl is guilty of murder,” Leif added, “Coralee could be in very grave danger.”

      Petersen grunted. “The lady has guts, I’ll say that for her. I’ll do some digging, see what I can find out. I’ll also try to find out if Tremaine had a relationship with Laurel Whitmore.”

      “If he didn’t,” Leif said, “find out who did.”

      Petersen nodded. “I’ll do my best.” He stood up, and so did Krista and Leif. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything.”

      Krista gave him a relieved smile. “Thank you, Mr.…Dolph.”

      He smiled. “As I said, I’ll be in touch.”

      Krista and Leif bade the investigator farewell and returned to the drawing room.

      “I’m so glad you thought of hiring him,” she said.

      “Petersen is a good man. He’ll do his best to find out about the earl.”

      Krista knew he would. She just hoped whatever he discovered wouldn’t be more bad news for Coralee.

      Corrie sat in her bedroom after supper. The meal had been an uncomfortable affair. Since her arrival, she had noticed a certain tension between Charles and his wife that seemed amplified when they were together for any length of time. Gray rarely appeared for the evening meal. An hour ago, she had seen him ride out of the stables, heading off toward the village.

      Thinking of his reputation with women and remembering the erotic books she had found in his library, she figured he had probably