For Your Arms Only by Linden, Caroline (best fiction books to read .TXT) 📗

until the man’s eyes lifted from her bosom to her face again. “My name is Cressida Turner. I’ve come to discover what you might know of my father, George Turner.”

The smile vanished. “What do you mean?” Prenner asked, his eyebrows flying up in exaggerated confusion. “Mr. Turner is your father, you say? I am sure you know far more about him than I do.”

“He has gone missing, and your name was in his ledger. I know he visited you shortly before he disappeared, and hoped you might have an idea where he could have gone.”

Prenner hesitated. Cressida had the feeling he was thinking furiously. His smile reappeared, colder and dismissive. “He’s disappeared? Well, I know nothing of that. We concluded our business some time ago. I didn’t expect to have further dealings with him, in fact.”

“What was that business?” she pressed him. “Might he have gone to another printer on similar business?”

Prenner gave a patronizing chuckle. “I don’t think he would want you to trouble your pretty head about it.”

Cressida wanted to curse in frustration. “You paid him over a hundred pounds in the last two years; there must be a good reason.”

“Yes, and I don’t have to tell you,” he replied with a sniff. “It’s my business, too, and you’ve no right to that.”

“I am just trying to locate my father,” she began, but the printer heaved a noisy sigh.

“Try the Dove’s Nest, if you’re so keen to find him.”

Behind her, Major Hayes muttered something in a disgusted tone, then stepped around her, striding right up to Mr. Prenner. The printer’s squinty eyes opened wide as the major towered over him.

“When did you last see Sergeant Turner?” he asked, all the more intimidating for speaking so quietly and evenly.

Prenner curled his lip even as he tipped his head back to see him. “I can’t recall.”

With a sharp twist, the major seized the front of Prenner’s shirt, right under his chin, and yanked, pulling the smaller man up onto his toes. Prenner’s sallow face turned brick red. He swung his fist and cursed, but the major didn’t seem to notice.

“When did you last see him?” he repeated.

“Piss off,” spat Prenner. He opened his mouth as if to yell.

Major Hayes gave him a sharp shake, and Cressida heard the man’s teeth knock together. “Has Turner been here since April? You’re wearing out my patience.”

Prenner just glared at him. Cressida noticed his hand groping behind him, searching for something on the desk. A penknife glittered in the dusty sunlight. “Watch,” she managed to say, pointing. “He’s got a—”

Major Hayes had seen. He drew back his free hand and drove it into Mr. Prenner’s stomach. The printer’s body jerked backward from the force of the blow. He looked like he would be sick. “Bloody thief,” he choked. “Have you…arrested…”

“Then I might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb,” replied the major. He twisted his arm, driving his elbow into the underside of Prenner’s chin and knocking the man’s head back. Then he followed that blow with a neat punch from his left hand, and Mr. Prenner went limp. Major Hayes caught him under the arms and dragged his limp form over to the armchair, dropping him into it. He turned back to her.

“Come, look in that desk. Quickly,” he added in quiet command when she just stood gawking at him.

Cressida closed her mouth and jumped to follow his directions. Her heart raced and her hands shook as she scrabbled through the haphazard collection of books, ledgers, bills, letters, and various other papers stuffed into the desk. Good heavens. The major had just knocked Mr. Prenner unconscious, with very little difficulty and even less hesitation. She stole a shocked glance at him from under her eyelashes. He was rifling through the bookcase by the window, frowning as he sorted through that mess. The sunlight coming through the dusty window picked out the lines of his face, including a faint scar on his cheek she had never noticed before. Unlike her, he looked as though he knew exactly what he was doing. What sort of man was he really? First his single-minded search of her father’s study, now this. Cressida was increasingly sure there was much more to the major than he was telling any of them, and she could only be glad that—for the moment—he was on her side.

He looked up, meeting her gaze. The sun slanting through the dusty window lit his eyes to the color of the sky. “Something wrong?” he asked in the same muted voice.

“Ah…It’s stuck,” she whispered, pulling at a random drawer to cover her lapse. Must he catch her staring at him every single time she did it? She half expected the drawer to fly open and catch her in the lie, but it remained firmly closed. She tugged at the handle and rattled it, hoping it was just stuck and not locked.

“Shh.” With two soundless steps he crossed the room to her. Cressida quivered as he reached around her, his arm almost embracing her. She would have moved away to let him at the desk, but he was right behind her, and the room was small and crowded. She was stuck in place, caught between him, the desk, and the wall. She couldn’t help glancing at his hands, so large and strong. He gave a firm pull at the drawer, then put his other hand at her waist. “Let me,” he whispered, easing around her. She looked up at him as they awkwardly traded places. He barely glanced at her, his attention wholly on the desk. Cressida retreated to the bookcase he had been searching, watching from the corner of her eyes as he went down on his knees and reached into his coat pocket. He took out what looked like two long thick needles, and inserted them into the lock.

A snort from Mr. Prenner broke into her thoughts. She jumped, darting a worried glance at him, but he slept on. Major Hayes