Only a Hero Will Do (The Heart of a Hero Book 2)

by Alanna Lucas

  She felt every inch of him slowly sliding into her, her body welcoming the invasion, craving more. With the same gentleness, he methodically eased out, the tip of his manhood teasing the entrance to her sensitive folds before consuming her again.

  Her body melted against his; she was part of him, he was part of her. Their bodies moved in exquisite harmony as waves of ecstasy crescendoed.

  The world spun, fading into the distance as he brought her to new heights of pleasure. She soared higher and higher, intense passion consuming her. She dug her nails into his back as her release rippled through her body. A moment later he found his own release. It was the most glorious moment of her life.

  Keeping her within the warmth of his arms, he rolled onto his back and kissed the top of her head. He held her, caressed her, as she succumbed to sleep.

  A soft promise whispered into her dreams. “I will protect you, my love.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The sun had just begun to make an appearance when Elizabeth went back to her chamber. It had only been an hour since Grant had held her in his arms, but already he missed her. Sometime during the night, priorities had shifted. No longer was his world just about bringing down traitors, but about experiencing all life had to offer with Elizabeth at his side. The promise of a bright day paled in comparison to what he was feeling inside.

  After donning his dark blue riding attire, he made his way to the breakfast parlor, hoping to speak with Hartland about what they had uncovered thus far.

  “Good morning, Captain, was your evening productive?”

  He ignored the double entendre and reported to Hartland what they’d discovered at the Purple Cow. “Fisker provided the information we needed. Combined with what your man witnessed at the cottage and what Abrams gleaned from locals regarding unusual activity near the old ruins, we’re going to go investigate this morning.”

  “And Elizabeth?”

  Grant detested the informal liberties Hartland took with her name, even if it was only to get a rise out of him. “Miss Atwell will be staying behind to finish decoding the packet handed over by Fisker.”

  “Hmm,” Hartland uttered as he inspected his hand. “I’d love to join in with the fun, but I’m headed north to meet with Devlin. Seems you have a traitor within the Legion.”

  “Another one?”

  “Another what?” Simon asked as he entered the room with Abrams, taking a seat next to Grant.

  “Traitor.”

  Simon’s brows creased together as he shook his head. “What’s the world coming to when people turn on their own country?”

  “Getting philosophical on us again?” Abrams rolled his eyes as he took the seat opposite.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Hartland began as he stood. “My home and staff are at your disposal. Don’t have too much fun without me on your little adventure.” And with that final remark, the earl took his leave, allowing Grant to go over the plan with Simon and Abrams a second time before stealing a quick moment with Elizabeth.

  “We will arrive separately. Abrams, you will take position near the cliffs. Simon will cover the drive. If there is any sign of trouble, use the northern cardinal whistle.” Grant stood, and glanced at both men. “I need to have a word with Miss Atwell. We will depart in twenty minutes.”

  Both Simon and Abrams offered suggestive half smiles and approving nods before Grant left the room. Those two were far too incorrigible at times.

  Rushing up the stairs to Elizabeth’s chamber, he knocked softly on her door before slipping into the warm space. A rush of lavender and sweet rose tickled his senses. A large bouquet of flowers adorned with golden bow graced one of the tables.

  Jealousy bubbled, wreaking havoc with his common sense. Damn that Hartland.

  Before he could toss the flowers out the window and stomp on the bow, Elizabeth strolled into the sitting room. “Grant!” Her breathy words drifted across the room, easing some of the jealousy. “I was hoping to see you before you departed.”

  She walked into his embrace and gently pressed her lips against his. The kiss instantly turned sensual, seductive. Elizabeth hands caressed the base of his neck, sending a torrent of tingles across his shoulders. His thoughts began to spin out of control with each kiss. He would rather spend the day exploring Elizabeth than investigating the cottage.

  With reluctance, he pulled away and gazed into her loving eyes. His world held new purpose.

  “I know, duty calls,” Elizabeth said as she peppered kisses along his jaw. “Promise not to be too long.”

  “Promise not to get in any trouble.”

  “I promise.” She sealed her vow with a kiss.

  ~~~

  In the bright sunlight, the cottage looked rundown, abandoned. Grant made his way to the same entrance the lone rider was reported to enter through. The door was unlocked. It was almost as if whoever owned the cottage was inviting trouble.

  He entered the dark, musty cottage with caution. The curtains were drawn, shutting out the world. As he pulled on the thick coverings, dust rippled from the fabric, swirling around the room. Pushing the window open, sunlight filtered in and invaded the grimy space. A blackened hearth was the only indication this may have been a kitchen at one time.

  He slipped into the front room. A large fireplace with a carved figurehead depicting a maiden graced one wall. There was mention of a maiden in the song Elizabeth recited. Instinct told him Typhon had to be near.

  Strolling further into the room, he took note of his surroundings. A pristine Holland cloth neatly covered the only piece of furniture present. The walls had been stripped of paintings and any adornment. A salty breeze drifted into the room from the window he’d just opened, ruffling the white protective cloth.

  Grant pulled the cloth away from the single piece of furniture, revealing a well cared for table. A scrap of paper flitted to the floor. Picking up the paper, he glanced at it quickly before shoving it into his pocket for later. After returning the cloth to its previous state, he swept through the rest of the cottage looking for any clues. He felt for hidden drawers and sliding panels, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

  What had he missed?

  He retraced his steps, intent on investigating each room again. A soft whistle drifted down the short hall. It wasn’t the alert Simon and Abrams had agreed to use if someone was approaching. Exercising caution, he crept along the wall, approaching the library. The sound grew stronger.

  Quietly entering the room, he turned his head this way and that, trying to determine the source of the sound. Crossing the room, he walked toward the window but as he neared, the sound beneath his footsteps changed. He leaned down on one knee and listened.

  Air pushing up through the floorboards met his ears. He ran his hand along the floor, feeling for a groove to lift the boards.

  It took several minutes, but eventually he was able to find a wide, loosened section. He lifted the boards with ease, revealing an access way to a tunnel below.

  “I told you, no more excuses.” A woman’s voice scolded from just outside the cottage.

  “But, Miss…” A man began to speak, but his words died off.

  Grant jumped into the space he’d just discovered and quickly pulled the floorboards back into place. He took several deep breaths to steady the pounding in his chest.

  Panicked, indiscernible words swirled about the cottage. Footsteps grew louder. Grant began to edge away from the opening. He wasn’t certain of where the tunnel led, but getting caught was not part of the plan.

  “No one’s here.” The man’s muffled voice drifted between the cracks in the floorboards.

  “Keep a sharp eye, just in case.” The woman crossed the room. “Prepare everything for tonight’s meeting. And don’t mess it up this time, or you will have to answer to Typhon. And he’s not as forgiving as I am.”

  The threat lingered in the air before the man replied with a shaky voice, “Yes, Miss Anjou.”

  Miss Anjou?

  Grant had n
ever liked the woman, but he would have never suspected her of treason.

  “The ruins at midnight. And exercise caution.”

  Miss Anjou’s footsteps retreated, but there was still movement from above. It sounded like he had no choice but to discover where the tunnel led.

  Closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again, his vision slowly adjusted to the dark. He ran his hand along the damp rock wall, taking his time treading through the dim, muggy tunnel. With each step, the air around him cooled.

  Hard ground gave way to soft sand. A salty mist drifted in, guiding him toward the exit. A slight streak of light signaled the end was near. He proceeded with caution, unsure what or whom he would discover.

  Water rushed in and out of the cave as he neared the opening, signaling the tide must be coming in.

  He had no time to lose.

  Picking up his pace, the sloshing of water echoed as he raced toward daylight.

  Bright sunlight blinded him for a brief moment. He shielded his eyes as he took in his surroundings. A calm stretch of sand lay off to the east with a sloped access to the cliff above. He sucked in his breath. That was going to be his best option for getting out of here.

  Keeping close to the cliff, he hoped no one from above was watching. He was completely exposed to the enemy. He proceeded with caution and speed. Soon the steep sandy path gave way to a narrow trail overgrown with brush, winding up to the top.

  Three high-pitched whistles, followed by four lower ones, met his ears. He followed the sound.

  “There you are,” Abrams called out from behind a large tree. “What happened?”

  “I found a passage leading from the house down to the shore. There’s a sandy beach below.”

  “Did you see the man and woman who entered the cottage?”

  “It was Miss Anjou and one of Typhon’s lackeys.”

  “Miss Anjou? I thought she had been investigated?”

  “So had I.” Grant couldn’t help but wonder if the person who’d supposedly investigated Miss Anjou was the very same as the one who was suspected of being a traitor. “Miss Anjou mentioned the ruins.”

  “The castle ruins lie near the remains of the old church between the mill and the cottage.”

  “That’s where we need to set up surveillance. You and Simon stay behind. Hille and Philson will be along within a couple of hours. I’ll return this evening.” With those final instructions, Grant headed back to Hartland, and Elizabeth.

  Hart had departed shortly after breakfast, leaving plenty of time for Elizabeth to plan for the evening. She knew that once she informed Grant what the last batch of letters revealed, he’d want to take action. It had taken her all afternoon— and many turns about the garden to clear her aching head— to crack the code. Once she’d worked out that each letter had been given a number value, the words had fallen into place.

  She glanced in the mirror, tucking her shirt neatly into her breeches. Pulling the chain and medallion overhead, she pinned up the last strands of hair. After securing her dagger in her boot, and the small pistol in her jacket pocket, she grabbed her cap. After one last glance about the room, she took her leave. She would await Grant’s return in the stables. Time was of the essence tonight.

  Taking the steps in rapid hops, she carefully avoided contact with any servant. Although Hart’s staff had been carefully selected and knew discretion was of the utmost importance, she still wasn’t going to take any chances. Traitorous eyes and ears seemed to be everywhere as of late.

  She was almost clear of the front hall when she rounded the corner and collided with Grant. Her body instantly reacted, craving more.

  “Oh…” her words were halted by a slow, drugging kiss. He held her snugly against his firm chest, the rapid beating of his heart danced with hers, creating a beautiful waltz of desire.

  “I missed…” his words trailed off as he eyed her from top to bottom. She braced herself for a scold. “I don’t want to know what you were about to do, but I am glad you’re ready to depart.”

  “We need to get to the old church ruins by Dove’s Cottage…” The words stopped flowing as realization of what Grant had said dawned on her. “You’re not going to try and convince me stay behind?”

  “No. I need your help. Did you discover anything else?”

  “Yes, and we need to start the journey to the coast immediately. I’ll explain everything in the carriage.”

  Grabbing her hand, he tucked it within the fold of his arm. His distinct scent of soap and leather calmed the whirlwind of thoughts storming through her mind. Images of the night they shared together heated her cheeks.

  He must have noticed her blush. Leaning down he whispered, “We have the rest of our lives to explore our passion.”

  His comment sent her head over heels, positively giddy with excitement, in love with him.

  Moments later, they were ensconced in the Earl of Hartland’s well-sprung plain black carriage and racing across the countryside. Elizabeth leaned against Grant, relishing the feel of his strong chest and comforting arms. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined a love and partnership so complete. She’d follow him on wild and dangerous adventures to the ends of the earth as long as it meant they were together.

  Several minutes passed in the safety of his arms before they resumed their conversation. “What did you discover from those letters?”

  She turned to face him. Even in the dim light, concern shone bright in his eyes. “I reviewed everything you’d given me and all the notes I’d taken over the past months. I believe Typhon has been using the old church remains as his meeting place, not the castle ruins. That’s just a diversion. There is a shipment of weapons due to arrive this evening.”

  “Damn, Abrams and Simon are stationed near the castle ruins. We will need to warn them first before going to the old church. We can’t risk being seen in the carriage. We’ll have to walk.”

  “Any other business we need to discuss?”

  “Just this.” Grant pulled her hard against his body in an all-consuming, passionate kiss. Their breath mingled as the world around them faded. All worries she had eased as desire filled her entire being. There was no place in the world she’d rather be than in his arms, helping to defend their country.

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I love you. Nothing will stand in our way of being together.”

  Caressing his cheek, she fought back the tears as she whispered her heart’s true desire, “I love you.”

  The carriage stopped. Three firm taps sounded on the carriage roof signaling it was safe to alight. Grant exited the carriage first and surveyed their surroundings before he offered his hand to Elizabeth. This was the adventure she’d craved her entire life. She would not disappoint.

  This was her time to prove herself.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The air was filled with a damp saltiness that penetrated Grant’s bones, stirring a deep foreboding. They kept to the tall grass, slinking their way to where Abrams was stationed. A distant birdcall broke through the night air.

  He stopped and listened.

  Three high-pitched notes followed by four lower ones drifted from the near distance. Abrams was giving them the all-clear.

  By the time they reached Simon and Abrams, the fog had started to roll in, consuming everything in sight, adding to the uneasiness he was already experiencing.

  “I thought you’d never arrive. It was getting rather boring here,” Simon teased. “Philson is stationed at the far end. There’s been no sign of life.”

  “The meeting is to take place at the church ruins,” Elizabeth whispered. “We need…” Her words died off, replaced by the soft crunch of gravel in the distance.

  Grant kept still, waiting for a clue as to who might be lurking. When no further sounds met his ear, he turned to Abrams and whispered, “You and Elizabeth start toward the church. Simon and I will handle this.”

  He waited until Abrams and Elizabeth were out of sight, heading i
n the opposite direction of where the sound originated. Signaling to Simon, he crept forward along the edge of the ancient ruins.

  Grant detested these conditions. They made it difficult to spot the enemy. He put his hand up, halting their progress. Simon pointed to the right just as Grant heard the gravel crunch again beneath someone’s feet.

  Someone else was out there. Through the mist, a hazy shadow ducked behind a half standing wall, the upper half lying in ruins, spread across the overgrown earth.

  With quiet quickness, Grant and Simon ducked behind a large half pillar. Grant whistled a two-syllable call several times, alerting Abrams. Faint whistles in the distance sounded, but none came from behind the ruins. The shadow was not an ally.

  Grant murmured under his breath. “Go left, I’ll take right.”

  Simon nodded his head in understanding. The two had never needed many words in order to understand each other.

  They slunk across the ground, approaching the tumbling wall with caution. Grant’s heart pounded in his chest. Something didn’t feel quite right, but before he could discern the alarms ringing in his head, the shadowy figure jumped up from his hiding place and fired a shot.

  Air whizzed past Grant’s cheek as Simon rushed the enemy, throwing him off balance. The two struggled for control. Grant readied his pistol, but couldn’t get a clear shot. He watched the pair wrestle, waiting for his opportunity.

  It didn’t take long for Simon to gain the upper hand. Several hard punches and the assailant lay unconscious.

  “Thanks,” Grant said as he watched Simon ease off their attacker.

  “Any time.” Simon bushed the dirt off his pants. “I wonder what adventure lurks behind the next wall?” Even in a dire situation, Simon had an abundance of sarcasm in hand.

  “Is that what we’re calling it these days, adventure?”

  “Life is always an adventure.”

  It wasn’t the time or place to be philosophical. Grant and Simon continued on in silence. Every ten yards or so, Grant whistled the all-clear. Philson responded with the same signal.