After the Spy Seduces Page 18

  Anger roiled inside her until she didn’t know what to believe about him. Except— “You took Meri to get the diary,” she seethed, now tangling her fists in her skirt to keep from attacking him. She wanted to scratch his eyes out! “It was you…”

  “Never.” The force behind that struck her like a blow. “I am working to keep everyone safe, including you and Meri.”

  “Safe?” The word choked from her in furious disbelief. “She’s been kidnapped!”

  “She’s fine,” he said calmly. “She’s on a farm near Idlewild, being cared for by a kind old couple who are most likely spoiling her rotten.”

  Her heart couldn’t believe that. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not. The person who took her placed her on that farm, to keep her out of sight until you give them the diary. My men have the farm surrounded and are watching over her every moment to ensure that she’s safe.”

  “Men?” she repeated, bewildered. “You have men?” How on earth was her brother in a position to command anyone? Her world had not only turned upside down, but also inside out.

  “Lots of them, all ready to move in at a moment’s notice.” In the shadows, his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “The worst that will happen to her is a scratch by one of the barn cats.”

  “Don’t tease.”

  “I’m not.”

  She blinked rapidly to keep back tears of rage. “If you knew where she was, then you’d free her. You’d send word to the general, and he’d—”

  “She can’t come home just yet. But you have to trust me with her safety. You know that I would never harm her and that I would never lie to you about her.”

  She rasped out, desperate to believe him, “She’s safe?”

  “Perfectly fine.”

  Thank God… Oh thank you, God! A ragged breath seared her lungs as she gulped for air, and she grabbed for him to keep her knees from buckling beneath her in relief.

  “My men won’t let anything happen to her, I promise you. But she can’t go home until the French have the diary. We have to play this out, all the way to the end.” He gently took her upper arms in a plea for cooperation. “Trust me, Diana. I would never lead you astray.”

  She didn’t fight him when he reached into her pocket to take the diary.

  As he turned his back to her in the shadows to hold it up to the torchlight slanting between the boards, he flipped through it, searching for a specific entry. He found the page he wanted and scanned over it, then he lowered it back into the shadows, where she couldn’t quite see what he was doing with it. Not that it mattered. Meri was safe, and in a few hours, the French would have the damned thing and she’d never have to think about it again.

  He turned around and held it out to her. “Take it.”

  “You’re giving it back?” Confusion fell over her. If Christopher was correct, and her brother was working for the French, then he shouldn’t be handing it back. He should be giving it to the French himself. This should have been the exchange they’d been waiting for. “Why would you—”

  “You’re going to hand this to the French,” he answered, ignoring her question. “They’ll approach you tonight, most likely before you leave the festival. Give it to them when they ask for it. They won’t harm you if you don’t fight them. And Meri will be waiting for you at Idlewild when you return.”

  “Won’t you be there for the exchange?”

  “No. They can’t know I’m here. You cannot tell them, understand?” He offered the diary to her again, this time making certain she took it and placed it back into her pocket. “Give this to them when they ask for it, and by dawn, you’ll be on your way home. So will Meri.”

  Her heart lurched into her throat. “And where will you be?”

  The flash of uncertainty in his eyes told her the truth. At least he didn’t insult her by lying to her. “You can tell the general that I’m safe and will be home as soon as possible.”

  She clung to what few tendrils of hope she had left. “Can I also tell him that his son isn’t working for the French?”

  He gave her a tight, chastising smile, then abruptly changed the topic, dashing all of her hopes that he wasn’t a traitor. “So I hear that you’re staying at the Mermaid. With Christopher Carlisle.”

  She glared at him, offended by his prying and refusing to answer. Why should she answer his questions if he wouldn’t answer hers?

  “Be careful with Carlisle, Diana. He isn’t what he seems.”

  She didn’t bother attempting to hide her pain. “Neither are you.”

  His smile faded.

  “I know exactly what Christopher is.” And so did Garrett, obviously. “He told me that he’s working for the Home Office.”

  “He’s keeping more secrets than that.”

  Her heart stuttered. No, he’d told her everything… But suspicion made her whisper, “What secrets?”

  “Ask him yourself.” He retreated toward the door. “Tell no one that you saw me.”

  “Why can’t I—”

  He slipped through the door and closed it before she could chase after him, wedging it shut so that she couldn’t open it.

  “Garrett!” She pounded her fist against the planks. “Come back! I need to know—come back!”

  The boards rattled beneath her pounding, but the sound was lost under the noise of the festival. With a fierce curse, she grabbed onto the door with both hands and yanked with all her strength, wrenching it open.

  She ran from the stall and out into the fairgrounds, turning in a circle to search in every direction, but Garrett was gone, vanished into the mulling crowd. A cry of frustration and anger rose on her lips. She scanned the fairgrounds around her—nothing. Not a single glimpse of him.

  Gone. As if he hadn’t been there at all.

  The sea of bodies, the smoke from the torches and lanterns, all the odors, the noise—it pressed in upon her until it threatened to suffocate her. She had to leave this place. Now.

  She shoved her way through the crowd, desperate for space and air. She had no idea where she was going, no idea what direction would take her back to the hotel, and back to where Christopher would know to find her. So she headed down a row of stalls that she’d wandered past earlier and hoped would lead her out of the shifting maze that the fairgrounds had turned into.

  She stopped. An icy chill pricked at the base of her spine.

  Someone was watching her.

  Slowly, she turned to scan the crowd. Everyone was milling about, talking and laughing, drinking and eating. A few couples were dancing randomly in the walkways. People in masks and costumes now outnumbered those in regular dress, and all of the crowd moved in undulating waves like the sea…

  Except for two young men wearing seamen’s clothes, who slipped through the crowd directly toward her. Their gazes were fixed on her, ignoring the festival around them.

  The French. Were they coming after the diary now? Garrett had said they’d approach her before she left the festival. But fear raced through her veins. She couldn’t do this, not without Christopher at her side, and retreated slowly backward through the jostling crowd.

  They increased their strides.

  Diana turned and ran. Her heart pounded as she shoved her way through the crowd, not caring who she pushed aside or the angry shouts and curses that went up at her. Run! No glimpse of Garrett, no sign of Christopher— Run! She didn’t dare slow her strides to look behind, but with every step, she sensed the two young sailors drawing closer.

  A stitch in her side shot pain through her abdomen. Stumbling onward, she pressed her hand against her waist to physically push down the pain and keep going.

  Her fingers brushed against the hard edge of the diary in her skirt pocket. Knowing she couldn’t outrun them, she halted in her steps. With a frustrated cry of surrender, she wheeled around to face them, pulling the little book out of her pocket and brandishing it like a weapon.

  They stopped less than ten paces away and stared at her, like dogs cornerin
g a rabbit.

  “You want this?” She shook it in the air, drawing the attention of the crowd around them as she yelled the question again, this time in French.

  She didn’t give a damn who saw her now, who overhead what was happening. Her family was in danger, and curse them all for making her fear for the ones she loved!

  One of the men pointed at the diary and nodded. Then he held out his hand to beckon her to come to him.

  No way in hell. “If you want this, then take it,” she bit out, all of her shaking with fury and fear. “And leave my family alone!”

  Then she threw the diary at the two men as hard as she could.

  She spun around and broke once more into a run. From the corner of her eye, she saw the two men dive into the sea of bodies after the book. Victory surged through her, but not enough to drive away the fear.

  Not stopping to look back, she ran on.

  She changed directions and headed toward the edge of the fairgrounds near the wharves, where the light from the festival’s torches and fires didn’t reach. Safety lay in the darkness, and she was desperate to flee. Helpless and vulnerable, she stumbled onward toward the black bay.

  A man stepped in front of her without warning. She ran into him, knocking hard against his chest. She staggered back a step, and his arms went around her to steady her.

  With a small gasp, she darted her gaze up to his face. Then nearly broke down with relief. “Christopher!”

  “This way.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her with him as he ran toward the dock.

  She stumbled beside him as she struggled to keep up with his long strides. But he didn’t slow.

  “The French have the diary,” she panted out. “I saw Garrett—Meri’s safe. He knows where she is. She’s safe!”

  “Good.” He glanced back through the darkness toward the festival. “But we’re not.”

  He led her at a near run down the wooden pier that stretched between the docked boats and into the shadows. She followed, putting her complete trust and her life once more into his hands.

  When they reached the end of the pier, he jumped onto a little boat tied to the dock and pulled her up with him on the small aft deck. He cut the rope with a flick of a knife and shoved the boat away from the dock to let it drift out into the dark bay. Then he kicked open the little door to the tiny cabin below and pushed her inside.

  She landed on her back with a soft bounce on a thin mattress that covered every inch of the cabin’s narrow floor, only to gasp when he followed after her and slid his tall, broad body over hers.

  His mouth came down against hers. The kiss possessed a single, determined purpose to pour into her the relief he felt that she was back with him, safely delivered into his arms. But it also worked to make her melt helplessly into a puddle beneath him.

  When he finally lifted his head to break the kiss so they could recapture their breaths, she stared up at him in the darkness. The worry and affection for her that she saw on his face made her heart stutter beneath the enormity of it.

  “Christopher.” Her fingers trembled as they traced his widening smile, then matched it with one of her own. Happiness unlike any she’d ever known filled her to her soul. For the first time since Garrett went missing she had faith that everything would be fine. “It’s all over, and we—”

  “Shh.” He touched his lips to hers to silence her, then lowered his mouth to murmur into her ear. “We don’t want anyone to hear us. We just want to float away with the tide, like a boat that broke away from its mooring.”

  But being overheard was the last concern on her mind when his mouth returned to hers. The slow and sultry kiss he gave her tasted of comfort and solace, of heat and yearning.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched herself invitingly into him, lost in the joy of knowing Meri was safe and in the deliciousness of being in his arms, of having his weight pressing down upon her and his strength pulsing into her with every heartbeat. Her fingers sifted through the soft curls at his nape in silent encouragement to deepen the kiss, and he did just that, teasing at the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue until she opened to him.

  With a soft groan, he plunged his tongue inside and took exploring sweeps into her mouth, tasting and plundering in equal measure. She shivered hotly when he stroked his tongue seductively along the length of hers, to tease her into responding. When she did, tentatively circling her tongue around his, a growl sounded from the back of his throat. He shoved his hand into her hair, to hold her head still as he began to thrust wickedly between her lips in a relentless rhythm that left her trembling.

  But this was only a kiss, and she yearned for so much more. She wanted the peace and reassurance she knew she would find in his arms, a few hours of selfish pleasure when she could forget all her troubles and simply feel warm, feminine…wanted.

  She tore her mouth away from his and slid her lips back to his ear, her arms tightening their hold around him. With her cheek pressed against his like this, his heavy body lying over hers, she could feel his quickening breath and the pounding of his heart. It wasn’t from being chased.

  “Please,” she breathed into his ear. That single word swept through him with a masculine shudder, a tensing of muscles, and a hardening of his limbs as they lay tangled up in hers. “Meri’s safe, and so are we. And for right now, we’re together.” She placed an entreating kiss to his earlobe, and he inhaled sharply in response. “Make love to me.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, regret gripping his face. “You deserve better than one night. But that’s all it can be—one night of physical pleasure, nothing else. Certainly no future. And in the morning, you’ll hate me.”

  “No,” she breathed out, her whisper nearly lost beneath the soft lapping of the water against the hull of the boat. “I would never—”

  “You’ll hate me,” he repeated firmly. “Because I will gladly take everything you offer, but I can give nothing back. I cannot.” He rested his forehead against hers, her mouth so close that the warmth of his breath tickled over her lips. “Dear God, Diana… Don’t you understand? I can’t give you the security and stability that you’re seeking. I can’t give you any kind of future beyond dawn.”

  “I know that we have only tonight, that everything will change in the morning.” When he began to argue, she leaned up to capture his mouth with hers and kiss away all his doubts, the way they’d all vanished inside her. The brutal truth tore from her— “But I’d rather have one night with you than none at all.”

  A pained expression gripped his face, his head slumping with a faint shake. “I don’t want you to ever go through again what you went through with John Meredith.”

  For once, the mention of John’s name didn’t pierce her with grief. Sadness still lingered inside her, and always would. But she no longer mourned. The past held no sway over her. Now, there was only this moment and the joy that this night with Christopher would bring.

  Touched by his concern, she reached trembling fingers to brush through the hair at his temple. “I won’t get with child tonight.”

  He hesitated, as if he’d meant something else. But for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine what. Then he said quietly, “You deserve so much better.”

  Better than the man who rescued her tonight and made certain that she was safe in the darkness? The man who was here in Bradwell only to help her rescue her daughter when he didn’t have to, who could have taken the diary and used it for his own gain, abandoning her family when they were in need?

  Better than making love to a man who was a true hero?

  “No, I don’t,” she whispered, capturing his face between her hands and turning him toward her to kiss him. She murmured against his lips, “Make love to me, Christopher.”

  This time, his hard-won restraint snapped. He pulled her into his arms and rolled over onto his back beneath her before she could catch her breath.

  Chapter 18

  Kit flipped her over to bring her on top of him. Her ripe mouth f
ormed an O of surprise.

  With trembling fingers, he reached up to caress her cheek. Dear God, she was beautiful. She lay along the length of his body, with her breasts pressed against him and her skirt and legs tangled around his. She clutched at his shoulder to steady herself. Beneath her fingers, his muscle tensed, revealing exactly how much he wanted her. So did the hardening bulge in his trousers that now pressed indelicately into her lower belly.

  “Tell me to stop,” he warned, his voice a husky rasp, “and I will.”

  “No,” she breathed out, as soft as the night surrounding them. Her fingers trembled as they curled into his jacket to keep him close. “I won’t say that.”

  Thank God. Because wild horses couldn’t have pulled her out of his arms.

  He reached up to remove the pins from her hair and threw them away. They pinged softly against the end wall of the tiny cabin. His eyes never left hers as he ran his hands through her hair and spread it over her shoulders, until the ends fell forward and tickled his chest.

  “If you change your mind, I can sleep outside on the deck,” he teased flirtatiously.

  “No, you won’t.”

  Her breath turned shallow and fast as his hands slid down her back to the row of tiny buttons. His fingers slipped them free, one by one, until her bodice sagged loose around her bosom. “I’ll take one of the blankets, curl up under it, and be fine. You’ll have this whole bed to yourself.”

  “No, you won’t.” She inhaled sharply when he tugged at the lace zigzagging through her short corset, tangling it around his fingers as he pulled it free.

  He couldn’t help grinning at her. Or stop the tingle that tickled at the backs of his knees and slowly crept its way upward, heating everywhere her body touched his. “Then I’ll just sit out there in my coat.”

  “You won’t do that either.”

  The tingle reached his groin and turned into a pulsating ache. Never had a woman refused her way into his arms before.

  But then, no other woman was Diana Morgan.

  “Then what will we do if I stay right here, hmm? What pleasures can I give you?” When the corset slipped free, he slid his hand into her bodice and beneath her shift, to capture her breast against his palm. “What can I do to make you scream?”