At the Spy's Pleasure

by Tina Gabrielle

  Gareth kept his face still, his expression bland. “What I’ve seen should satisfy our investor.”

  A glint of satisfaction flashed in Simon’s eyes. “Good. I need to purchase more pig iron. I’ll need additional funds in a month, the same time of my family’s ball. How soon can I expect payment?”

  Gareth’s lips curled in a smile. He didn’t need to sneak into Simon’s home, didn’t need to go to any extremes to get the list of corrupt inspectors. The perfect opportunity had fallen into his lap.

  “This is sufficient for my man. I shall give you the rest of the money the morning after the ball,” Gareth said.

  A smug smile curled the corner of Simon’s lips. “Good.”

  Good, indeed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The following afternoon, Jane instructed the hackney driver to drop her off in front of Gray’s Inn. She’d never previously visited one of the four Inns of Court. The only time she’d needed a solicitor was after Charles had died and her husband’s will was read. The lawyer had conveniently come to her home.

  Jane stepped from the hackney and stared at the building that loomed before her. Gray’s Inn resembled a sprawling, quaint country house surrounded by an open field of well-tended lawn and trimmed hedges. She followed the gravel path through a brick Gatehouse and was directed to the second floor where the barristers’ chambers were housed.

  She found herself in a long torch-lit hallway lined with brass nameplates. Halfway down the hall she spotted a nameplate announcing the chambers of Mr. Gareth Ramsey. Her hand hovered over the door handle, and she experienced an overwhelming curiosity to see Gareth’s chambers and learn more about him.

  Opening the door, she swept inside.

  A small vestibule was lined with rows of file cabinets. The scent of freshly brewed coffee made her mouth water. A thin young man with spectacles sat behind a desk stacked with papers scribbling on a legal looking document. Quill in hand, he glanced up and frowned at her.

  “May I help you, Miss?” he asked.

  “Lady Stanwell to see Mr. Ramsey, please.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  She should have expected him to ask. Still, she hadn’t come all this way to be denied. “Yes,” she said.

  The man’s lips quirked, and Jane suspected he knew she was lying. If he was Gareth’s clerk, he would certainly know his schedule. For an instant, she feared he would turn her away.

  She straightened her spine, clutched her reticule firmly before her, and forced herself to look the man in the eye.

  His brown eyes shone with intelligence behind his lenses. “I’ll tell him you’re here, my lady.” Setting down his quill, the clerk stood and grasped a crutch leaning against the desk that she hadn’t noticed. She was shocked to realize he only had one leg; the other had been removed from just above his knee.

  The clerk made his way down the hall, knocked on a closed door, and disappeared inside.

  She heard muffled voices, and moments later, the clerk came out followed by Gareth himself.

  He looked strikingly handsome in a linen shirt, cravat, and form fitting trousers. His hair was ruffled as if he had run his fingers through it in agitation. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing a sprinkling of dark hair on his muscled forearms. She’d been right about his eye, and he sported a faint bruise that somehow added to his appeal. Her heart did a little jolt at the sight of him.

  “Jane! What a pleasant surprise,” he said.

  He held his office door open.

  “Will you need anything further from me this evening, Mr. Ramsey?” the clerk asked.

  “No need, Stevens. Have a good evening,” Gareth instructed.

  Stevens nodded, repositioned his crutch, and departed down the hall.

  Jane admired Gareth for hiring the clerk. Charles would never have hired a crippled servant, even if his duties were solely clerical. Her husband had been vain and insisted the servants possess a certain look and carriage.

  Jane entered Gareth’s office, and he closed the door behind them and took her cloak.

  Her eyes traveled over the spacious room. A large pedestal desk sat before a window. A tall stack of papers beneath polished stone paperweights was neatly piled in the corner of the desk. A blotter, pen, and inkwell were in the opposite corner, and a map of London was pinned to the wall. A dark blue jacket rested across one of the chairs, and looking at his rolled up shirtsleeves, she suspected she’d caught him at the end of his work day.

  Two chairs in front of the desk and a striped sofa in the corner offered seating for his clients. A dainty sideboard held a crystal decanter of amber colored alcohol and several glasses. Her eyes were drawn to the gold scales of justice upon the mantle. It was clearly a busy barrister’s office, and she was fascinated to see where he spent much of his time.

  “I don’t know why you’ve come, but I’m thrilled you’re here,” he said softly.

  She looked at the stack of papers on his desk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “Not at all. I don’t have any more appointments for the day. I can think of no one else I’d rather see.” He motioned to the sofa. “Please sit.”

  He joined her on the sofa and stretched his long legs before him. Looking into his handsome face, she was suddenly filled with unease about her visit.

  At her silence, his brow furrowed. “Is something wrong? Is there trouble with the duke?”

  “No, no, nothing’s amiss. I can assure you that Lady Olivia is happily nursing the duke as we speak.”

  “Then why come all the way here?”

  Her composure was as fragile as an eggshell. She took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. “Simon paid me a visit.”

  His gaze sharpened. “Why?”

  Anxiety fluttered in her stomach. “He asked about the upcoming annual ball his family is hosting. It’s one of the most popular events of the Season, and Lady Olivia is attending with her mother, the Dowager Duchess, and the Duke.” She knew she was babbling.

  “And you?”

  “I’ve decided to go. There will be at least a hundred people in attendance. It will be safe and I will be sure not to drink anything Simon offers me.”

  His eyes had a sheen of purpose. “I will look after you.”

  “So you are attending as well? I had thought you disliked him. At least the way he treats helpless, intoxicated women.”

  He scowled at the reminder. “I have limited business dealings with him, and I’m obligated to attend.”

  The time had come. She needed to know what was going on, that her newfound trust in Gareth was not a mistake.

  She struggled to keep her voice light. “Yes, about that. Exactly what business do you two have together?”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “It’s nothing of consequence.”

  If he thought she would be easily dissuaded, he would soon learn she was not the type of woman who would back down. “I thought you handled matrimonial matters.”

  “Not entirely. My legal practice includes other types of cases as well.”

  She searched his face. “I need to know. Why are you working together?”

  “It doesn’t concern you,” he answered in a tense clipped voice that forbade any questions.

  Anger rose to her defense. “If Simon Marbury is as depraved as you led me to believe, then why do business with him?”

  He glared at her, and a shaft of fire shot at her before his lashes lowered to veil his eyes.

  What was going on here? Instinct told her there was more involved than what he was revealing. She’d learned the hard way not to ignore her gut when she thought something was amiss, and it was important to her to learn the truth. He was acting strangely and it was clear he didn’t want her to pry. But if it was a simple legal arrangement, then why was he so secretive?

  “My business dealings with him began long ago. Long before he got you drunk at Vauxhall,” he said.

  If he intended to scare her off, she wouldn’t be intimidated
. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  “If you must know—”

  Her chin thrust forward. “I must.”

  Gareth’s jaw tightened a fraction. “The Marbury family is in trade. They manufacture cannons. His father had a stroke and has been ill. Simon’s running the factory. I’m helping him with a sale of a part of the business.”

  She blinked. “That’s all?”

  “That’s all. Nothing more.” He reached for her hand and gazed in her eyes. “I would never lie to you, Jane.”

  A tight knot inside her eased. Looking into the hard planes of his face, she realized she had indeed acted foolishly. She suddenly felt ashamed and guilty for doubting him. He had helped her on more than one occasion and had proven himself worthy of her trust.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that Charles lied to me throughout our marriage. I swore never to allow a man to make a fool of me again,” she said. She couldn’t go through that again, and she didn’t know if she’d be able to continue seeing Gareth if he was keeping secrets from her.

  “You needn’t worry about that with me,” he said, his voice firm and soothing at once.

  The relief she felt was nearly overwhelming. Impulsively, she threw herself against him. Powerful arms came around her, holding her close, and she nestled against his chest. She was aware of the strength and warmth of his flesh through his fine linen shirt, and her heart pounded an erratic rhythm. Chemistry flared between them, drugging and intoxicating.

  She tilted her face to his, and he lowered his head and kissed her. His mouth played with slow sensuality over hers, filling her with pleasure and igniting her desire. She clung to him, ran her hands up his arms, feeling the hairs on his muscular forearms, then higher to clutch his broad shoulders. He deepened the kiss, and she eagerly met his languidly seeking tongue with demand.

  Blood coursed through her veins like an awakened river. She wanted more warmth, more heat, and pressed herself closer, molding her soft curves to the hard planes of his chest. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to be naked beneath him.

  Overpowered by him. Consumed.

  His hands cupped her breasts through her gown, and she arched forward for his touch. Her nipples turned diamond hard, and she desperately wanted to remove her gown, to feel his large hands stroke her naked skin. For years she’d been lonely and starved, not understanding what she was missing, until Gareth had come into her life and made her feel wanted, craved…desired.

  Her fingers tangled in his hair. “Gareth.”

  “Hmm.”

  He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, her throat, then trailed his lips to the tops of her breasts above the bodice of her gown. Her eyes slid closed. Her breaths grew ragged, and she turned hot and feverish with need.

  “Send a carriage for me tonight,” she breathed.

  He hovered above her bodice for an instant. “I don’t know if I can wait that long,” he hissed, then licked her cleavage with a slow, hot stroke of his tongue.

  Sweet Lord! She didn’t either.

  Her eyes cracked open and the afternoon light filtered through the window. She was struck by the time of day and where she was. “Are you sure we’re alone?” she said.

  He lifted his head and a strange look flashed in his eyes. “My clerk has left for the day, but you’re right. This is madness. It’s just that you’re so wonderfully responsive. I lose control. Forget where we are.” His deep voice simmered with barely checked passion.

  Did it really matter if it was late afternoon and not the night? If his clerk was gone, then they were truly alone…

  His moist breath was hot against her nape. “We can’t do this here. You’re a lady.”

  She didn’t want to be a lady right now. She wanted to be naked beneath him.

  He sat back and raised her chin with a finger and lifted her face to his. Stark need blazed in his dark eyes, and titillating shivers raced through her.

  “The carriage. Tonight,” he said hoarsely.

  Oh, yes.

  …

  After Gareth hailed a hackney and watched Jane drive away, he headed back into his chambers and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Collapsing on the sofa, he took a long drink.

  The faint scent of her lavender perfume remained. Lust consumed him. If he didn’t have her soon, he would go mad. She occupied not just his erotic fantasies while he slept, but his waking thoughts as well. Nothing could be more dangerous for him as an agent for the Crown.

  She’d only known disloyalty and lies from her husband. Gareth knew he was no better. He’d looked into her eyes and told her that she didn’t have to worry about deceit from him.

  He was a thousand times worse than Lord Stanwell. He was a well-practiced manipulator by trade. As a barrister, he’d never lied to the courts, but neither did he reveal the full truth. He’d learned the art of omission. Tell only what was required of him. He’d served his clients well.

  As a spy, he’d learned to outright lie. To do whatever was expedient to accomplish his goals. Lie, cheat, steal…even kill if necessary.

  His current mission was no exception, even more so since it had turned out to be more challenging than he’d initially believed. He’d thought it would be easy to entice Simon Marbury into revealing his hand, but his nemesis was cunning. Gareth knew he could handle the mission. Whether it required him to break into Simon’s home or sneak into his office during the upcoming ball, he would do it.

  But Jane had complicated matters. He was forced to deceive her, to use her—and yes—to outright lie to her. He could do all these things, but for the first time it bothered him to do them. He lusted after her, but he’d also come to genuinely like her. And for one terrible moment, as he looked into her beautiful eyes, he’d wanted to tell her the truth.

  Hell no.

  Nothing could be more dangerous. He couldn’t allow his control to falter. He needed to bed her, to possess her. Only then would this madness end. Their time together was limited. He would complete the mission and never look back. It would be simple. The alternative was unthinkable.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Late that night, Jane adjusted the hood of her cloak and stepped out of the elegant carriage. Excitement buzzed in her veins as she walked the path to the rear entrance of Gareth’s town home. The moon hung low in the sky like a silver coin, illuminating the flowering bushes and hedges. The fragrant scent of rose bushes filled her senses.

  Once again, the door opened before she could knock.

  “I’ve been waiting,” Gareth said.

  He swept her into his arms, kicked the door shut, and claimed her mouth in a bone-melting kiss. His chest was like a wall of granite, and her flesh prickled with excitement. Unlike her first time here, she felt no nervousness, only an urgent need to experience more of what he had shown her.

  More desire. More pleasure.

  More of him.

  She grasped his shoulders, then reached up to spear ten fingers into his hair and kissed him with all the pent up desire inside her.

  He groaned and tore his lips from hers. “Careful. Or I’ll take you right here, right now, on the kitchen floor.”

  Her pulse skittered at the raw urgency in his voice. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her upstairs and to his bed.

  His handsome face looked dangerous and wicked in the flickering candlelight. His strength and size, which had once intimidated her, now thrilled her. She reveled in his muscles and powerful shoulders. She longed to unleash his fiercest passion. In the short time since she’d known Gareth, he’d completely changed her outlook on intimacy between a man and a woman. The experience was so different from the listlessness of her passionless marital bed.

  This was molten fire in her veins. Sizzling and dangerous.

  Yet she had never felt so safe and secure.

  So cherished.

  She glimpsed the hard planes of his face, and a tingling thrill ran down her spine. She had known all along, hadn’t she? She was falling in love with Gareth Ramsey.
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  He hurried up the stairs with her in his arms. Once again there were no servants in sight, and she was grateful for his consideration. He set her on her feet upon the Brussels carpet in his bedchamber and closed the door. A fire burned low in the grate, and a candelabrum was lit on the mantle. Taking her hand, she thought he would lead her to the large bed, but he stopped before the cheval glass mirror and stood behind her.

  He pulled the pins from her hair, and her tresses fell to her shoulders and cascaded down her back. Sweeping her hair aside, he kissed the wildly beating pulse at her nape and whispered, “Don’t move.”

  He unhooked the top of her gown, and the satin bodice gaped. Slipping his hands inside, he cupped her breasts with his large hands, and brushed his thumbs against her nipples, turning them hard. She gasped at what he was doing to her, and liquid heat flooded her limbs and pooled between her thighs. She longed to turn and kiss him, but his big body was pressed against her. She was too shy to see herself in the mirror, and she turned her head aside and closed her eyes.

  More hooks followed. He slid the sleeves down her arms and the dress slid down to her feet. With a tug of ribbons, her chemise and drawers followed, and she was naked save for her white stockings and frilly garters.

  She burned with her need to kiss him. “Gareth,” she breathed.

  His mouth trailed a path down her shoulder and back. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Look and see.” Cupping her chin, he turned her to face the mirror.

  Stunned, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair cascaded wildly across her shoulders and down her back. Her lips were swollen, her face flushed with arousal, and her nipples pebble hard. Candlelight licked the hollows and curves of her body.

  She’d never felt beautiful in the bedroom. But now, looking at herself, with Gareth standing behind her, she felt magnificent…like a seductive goddess.

  Her eyes met Gareth’s in the mirror, and her heart hammered in her chest. He’d touched her with sweet caresses so far, but the hunger in his eyes revealed much more.

  He looks like he wants to ravish me!