The King's Code (The Lady Spies Series #3): A Regency Historical Romance

by Samantha Saxon

“I want to know everything about Mister McCurren; where he goes, who he speaks with, everything. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

  “Very.”

  “Tell me about his women.”

  The bodyguard’s eyes flared. “He kept a paramour for almost a year but he recently threw her over.”

  “For whom?”

  “I’ve not heard rumors of a new mistress, but he is reported to take to quality”—the man paused—“ladies of the ton. Particularly blondes.”

  “Blondes?”

  “It was bandied about town some years back that McCurren frequently entertained the widow Lady Catherine in the same bed with her twin sister, Lady Rebecca.”

  “Really?” Enigma smiled with admiration for Seamus McCurren’s prowess.

  “But then again, he was eighteen at the time and now is six-and-twenty.”

  “You don’t think the gentleman still up for the job?”

  “Not now.” Mister Collin shook his head and stared at her. “McCurren’s not the sort to keep two lovers.”

  Enigma walked toward Collin, pressing her breasts against his chest.

  “You mean like me?” she whispered seductively.

  Her bodyguard’s breathing was becoming shallow. The more he lost control, the more she wanted him to.

  “Yes,” Mister Collin ground out. “Like you.”

  “Now, Jack.” Enigma fluttered her lashes, caressing his cock with her right hand. “You must admit that Mister Youngblood is damn beautiful.”

  Mister Collin remained silent, knowing that she was intentionally taunting him.

  “Do you really . . .” She pushed his jacket off those deliciously broad shoulders. “Want me to choose between the two of you?” she asked, discouraging his stupidity. “Or would you rather take me to my desk and plow me?”

  Her bodyguard made a primal grunt and began stripping her of her clothes by way of an answer. And when she was nude before him, Jack laid her atop the desk and stared at her body while he himself undressed.

  Enigma teased him while she waited, drawing his attention to places she wanted touched, caressed.

  Mister Collin’s body was itself beautiful, larger and far more muscular than Youngblood’s. His arms bulged into rounded mounds of muscle as he worked diligently to remove his stubborn trousers. He stepped forward, his chest broad and so captivating that her eyes descended to view more of him. She stared at his erection and smiled up at him, provocatively spreading her thighs. His dark eyes flared and he grasped her around the waist, yanking her to the edge of the sturdy desk.

  “Let me ride you,” he asked, knowing the rules.

  “Youngblood is far more skilled a lover,” she said, inciting his anger. But this time he grinned, confident of her desire, then leaned over so that her tight nipples brushed his hard chest.

  He stared down into her eyes, his thick arms on either side of her head when he whispered, “We both know you don’t want Youngblood’s skill, you want my power.”

  “Yes,” Enigma admitted and he impaled her.

  She cried out at the sheer force of the man over her, in her. It was so rare that she was able to be dominated, and as his intoxicating power moved against her, Enigma allowed herself to be overcome. With each masculine thrust, Mister Collin was becoming more aroused, more demanding.

  He grabbed her backside and drove deeper, groaning, “Can you feel how deep I am inside you?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled, his lean stomach contracting as he thrust into her. “Am I a better lover than Youngblood?”

  She did not reply and he squeezed her nipples, causing her to shiver. “Am I better?”

  She nodded once, so close to finding her pleasure that she could hardly speak.

  “Say it,” Jack whispered, holding her eyes. “Say I make you tremble harder and longer than Youngblood ever has.”

  “Yes.” She met his arrogant gaze and her bodyguard smiled, devoting himself to performing his duty. “Yes,” Enigma said, encouraging him as his hips drove faster, deeper, and then she arched her back, spreading her thighs so that she could feel more of him, more of his power.

  The instant he saw that she had reached her peak, Jack grabbed her waist and gave one last thrust, spilling himself with a feral groan of sublime satisfaction.

  Enigma came to her senses slowly, leisurely. She opened her eyes and licked her dry lips as he watched, still inside her. She gave him one last caress before pushing him away, and it was his turn to tremble before her.

  She rose to her knees on the desk, slightly taller as she faced him and then looked into his possessive eyes.

  Enigma made sure that her breasts brushed his rough jaw as she whispered in his ear, “You might have a bigger cock, but Youngblood is much prettier to look at.” Mister Collin’s eyes hardened in anger as she had intended. “And if you’re very good”—she stroked his chin with the back of her fingers—“I shall let you watch the next time I ride him. Would you like that, Mister Collin?”

  “No.” Jack jerked his face away from her provocative touch.

  “Oh, I think that you would.” Enigma exerted her power over him. “Have you never lain in your bed when you knew that I was riding him and—”

  “No!” her bodyguard growled.

  “Wanting to watch what he did to me, wanting to know how he made me—”

  “Does Youngblood know?” Mister Collin’s eyes fixed on hers and Enigma felt a jolt of excitement at his rebellion.

  “Know what, darling?” She slid off the desk and he followed her as she gathered her clothes to dress.

  “Does Youngblood know that while he is downstairs charming your customers, you are upstairs screaming for me?”

  “Careful, darling.” She ran her finger over the scar she had given him, but he continued to speak in defiance.

  “Mister Youngblood strikes me as the jealous type, but then you like to have men fighting over you.” Jack pulled her hard against him. “Like two dogs with the same bone.”

  “One more word,” she warned, “and I shall make Seamus McCurren my new dog.” The idea was appealing. “And what do you think I will do with the old one?” Mister Collin released her, knowing full well what she was capable of.

  “Now get back to work, and when I want you”—she made clear her other choices—“I will call.” She slapped him on that tight, bare ass. “Now do as your told.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  ~

  Annoyed, Falcon sat in his office on Tuesday afternoon and waited for his stubborn cryptographers to arrive.

  He had, unbeknownst to the pair, seen them both individually earlier in the day and that was indeed the source of his current irritation.

  “Lady Juliet, Mister McCurren, and Mister Habernathy,” his secretary announced.

  “Send them in.”

  Falcon hid his anger as the trio took their seats. Juliet and Seamus sat in the two wooden chairs, while Habernathy sat on a stool behind them.

  “It appears to me as though we have a problem with the function of your office.”

  Seamus looked stunned, having not a half hour ago informed Falcon that he had identified the last marker of the elusive code. “What ‘problem’ are you referring to?”

  Falcon leaned forward, his hands clasped together as his forearms rested on his desk.

  “Were you aware, Lady Juliet, that Mister McCurren has already identified the remaining marker?”

  “He mentioned it, yes—”

  “And did you discuss his findings pertaining to the discovery of the final marker?” The girl’s eyes darted to Seamus. “Or was that the day you chose to stay in the comfort of your home rather than travel to the Foreign Office?”

  “I do apologize, my lord.” The lady looked down, contrite. “I’m afraid I was not feeling well yesterday.”

  McCurren glanced at the girl, sympathy crossing over his handsome features, a sympathy that Falcon did not share.

  “My agents are expected to send word of such i
nevitable occurrences, and had Mister McCurren not himself gone round to check on you”—the girl’s head snapped up, surprised that he knew—“I would have been forced to send Mister Habernathy to divine your location.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The lady nodded once then shook her head, adding, “It shall not happen again.”

  “See that it does not.” Falcon turned his attention to Seamus McCurren. “And were you aware, Mister McCurren, that Lady Pervill had visited the office of the London Herald Friday last?”

  The boy’s jaw dropped a fraction but he refused to look at the diligent young woman. “No, I was not.”

  “Which is precisely why I have called this little meeting.” Falcon glanced from one of his brilliant cryptographers to the other. “It appears to me that this collaboration of minds is at the moment anything but collaborative.”

  “Yes, my lord,” they mumbled in unison.

  “If we are to capture the Frenchman, we must first set aside pride and petty jealousies and work together. That includes sharing information!” Falcon was beginning to shout so he paused, calming his pounding heart. “You will go back to your office, discuss what you have learned individually, and then apply that knowledge toward breaking this code. Together!”

  When he had nothing else to say, Juliet Pervill rose then curtsied a reticent farewell as Habernathy opened the door for her, reminding Falcon of his second reason for calling this meeting.

  “Mister Habernathy, I would like for you to stay.” McCurren gave his secretary an encouraging nod then left the room, closing the door behind him. “I have a very important job for you, James.”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  ≈

  Juliet stormed down the main corridor of the Foreign Office, eager to put as much distance between herself and that Scottish scoundrel. She had been analyzing the last marker all blessed morning and not one word from Seamus to inform her that he had found something in the article!

  As a matter of fact, he had not spoken to her at all.

  “Good morning,” a deep voice said and Juliet looked up at the face of an exquisite gentleman walking toward her.

  “Good morning,” Juliet replied, cursing her mother for burning her dreary gowns.

  The man stopped before her, smiling rakishly as he asked, “Are you in need of an escort, miss?”

  Juliet felt herself blush, unaccustomed to such forward, and decidedly handsome, young men.

  “No, she is not.” Juliet looked over her shoulder at the dull rumble of Seamus McCurren’s deep voice as he caught up to her, grasping her upper arm from behind.

  “I’m afraid we must get back to our office, good day,” Seamus said, his tone anything but solicitous.

  The young man bowed and let them pass.

  Seamus pushed her forward, but Juliet could not help looking back over her left shoulder. The rogue down the hall grinned as he gave her figure the once-over. Finding her to his liking, the blackguard winked. Juliet gasped at the young man’s blatant assessment and was thankful when they had turned a corner and were out of the man’s lecherous view.

  “What do you expect when you walk around like that in a building full of men?”

  “When I ‘walk around like’ what?” Juliet was incredulous.

  “What happened to those gray gowns you wore when you first began working at the Foreign Office?” Seamus demanded, opening their outer office door.

  “My mother burned them, if you must know.” She wrenched her arm free and opened the door to their inner office, slamming it in his face.

  Seamus opened the inner door with a violent tug. “Why?” he growled, then it was his turn to slam the abused door.

  “She found them unsightly.” Juliet sat at her desk.

  “That was a mistake.” Seamus was at his desk in three strides.

  “Why?”

  “Beautiful women in a building full of unmarried men will only lead to—”

  “Temptation?”

  Seamus turned to stare at her, apparently unsure if she was referring to her temptation or that of the men.

  “Ruination.” His eyes were cold and cruel and Juliet looked away from the sting of his censure.

  There was a lengthy silence and Juliet swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

  “May I read the Herald article? I had no idea you gleaned any information from it bar the finding of the last marker.” Juliet glared at him, her tone accusing him of conspiring against her.

  “Aye, you can read it.” He walked the short distance to her desk. “If you tell me why you went to the London Herald in the first place.”

  Juliet did not look up, but she could feel him staring down at her. “It occurred to me that if I knew the amount of time it took from the submission of an article to its publication date—”

  “Falcon could have his men wait for the French cryptographer to submit the next code.” Seamus finished her thought, unimpressed.

  “Yes, then I went home with my new information and made calculations to determine in which publication the anomaly was most likely to next appear.” Juliet looked up and, having nothing else to say, asked, “Why didn’t you tell me of your findings?”

  “I did.” Seamus held her eyes.

  “You most certainly did not!” She would have remembered, but then again she had forgotten quite a lot of that particular conversation the moment Seamus kissed her. Juliet rose, uncomfortable with him standing so close to her, remembering his kiss.

  “I told you about the marker yesterday.” He waited and then turned his back to her. “However, you might not remember as you were a bit indisposed.”

  Juliet stared at his back in disbelief. He thought she had been inebriated during the encounter. She knew that he had seen her tumbler of scotch, had realized after he was gone that it was the reason Seamus had left so abruptly.

  Because he believed no lady would behave as wantonly as she had unless her judgment had been soaked in whiskey.

  And he was correct, most ladies would not. But there was some quality to Seamus McCurren that sent her mind on holiday. Touching the man was so incredibly . . . Her eyes drifted to his alluring backside.

  And having him touch her . . . She bit the side of her lip.

  “Yes, I had just returned from the park,” she offered as a feeble explanation, deciding it better that he believe her to have been “indisposed” than to know the humiliating truth. “Will you show me your findings now?”

  Seamus shrugged with a touch of embarrassment. “Aye.”

  “Thank you,” she said, so mortified she could hardly think.

  “It would be easier if you came to my desk,” Seamus said, pointing as if she’d no idea where his desk was located. “I found the last marker in the Herald, and once I did, I examined the papers as a whole as you did last week.”

  Juliet smiled, feeling validated. “Yes?”

  “The four publications in which the markers appeared are the Herald,” he held up the latest paper. “The Gazette, the Times, and the London Post.” She nodded and he continued. “The first marker was found in the Gazette. The second marker appeared in the Herald, the third . . .” Seamus stared at her but needed to go no further.

  “The stupid frog put the markers in alphabetical order?” Juliet laughed and he smiled brilliantly, nodding.

  “Rather stupid.”

  “Rather,” she agreed, momentarily dazed by his masculine beauty. “Did you, uh, find anything else?”

  “This cryptographer covets order.”

  “Yes.” To the point of foolishness.

  “So, with that in mind, I looked at the articles again and found another pattern.”

  Her jaw dropped and she hit him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “That’s fantastic, Seamus!”

  He chuckled and Juliet looked down at his elegant fingers as they spread out the five E code clippings. She could not help remembering the feel of his hand splayed across her breast.

  “Initially, I thought the E pla
cement was random until I found the last marker. But look at this.” Seamus pointed. “The E appears in the second paragraph twice, the fifth paragraph once, and the sixth once. I think the paragraph in which the E marker appears denotes the retrieval site location.”

  Juliet turned toward him, her eyes widening with comprehension. “Then there are at least three retrieval sites.”

  “At least three.” Seamus stared down at her, his eyes dancing with intelligence. Juliet could not help herself. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  Hard.

  Seamus stumbled backward, not expecting her weight, and Juliet followed. She closed her eyes and pressed his back to the office wall then leaned against him, needing the stability, needing her feet on the ground as her mind wandered the length of his beautiful body.

  Her arms slipped around his neck, and much to her surprise, his arms snaked around her waist as Seamus pulled her flush to his exquisite form. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and Juliet moaned. She felt a rush of embarrassment, which dissipated as Seamus ardently returned her awkward kiss.

  He turned her head to make it easier to sweep into her mouth with his tongue. She closed her eyes and focused her mind entirely on the pleasure of kissing the brilliant Seamus.

  His lips were supple but insistent, and his tongue glided around her mouth, beckoning her to follow. She did, pursuing him into the very recess of his mouth as she pressed herself more firmly into his arms.

  He gave a masculine moan of approval, the sound of which sent a stab of desire that began in her belly before radiating through what was left of her body. Then the kiss intensified and Juliet began to panic, never having felt such passion, such power from a man, from herself.

  “I’m sorry.” She pushed away. “I . . .” Juliet made the mistake of looking up at him. “Perhaps the Foreign Office does provide too much temptation.”

  And then she realized what she had just said, what she had just admitted.

  “Good afternoon,” Juliet mumbled as she left her reticule, her hat, and her winter coat, fleeing out the office door.

  “Heading home so soon, Lady Juliet?” Mister Habernathy caught her in the corridor.

  “Yes, James.”