For the Duke's Eyes Only (School for Dukes #2)

by Lenora Bell

  “I want to tell you, Indy. I want to tell you what you want to hear.”

  “No.” She shook her head against his neck. “Don’t tell me what I want to hear. Tell me the truth.”

  “I was a fool.” He could admit that much. “Indy, I’ve made so many bad choices, and I have to live with them. I know I hurt you, and I didn’t want to hurt you. But . . . as you said, life takes these twists and turns sometimes. I chose a dissipated path.”

  “You could have become a diplomat, like your father. Why didn’t you?”

  “They did offer me the post in Bern, Switzerland.” A post uniquely positioned to keep an eye on the larger political framework of Europe. “I declined. Too boring, too tedious. I’m a rogue, not a representative of the law. I hate the formality and protocol.”

  She blinked. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “A rogue.”

  “You’re lying in my arms, aren’t you?”

  “Because I seduced you.”

  “You did.”

  “I’m not convinced that you are a rogue. I still think you’re hiding something. You’re not at all who I thought you were. Sometimes your mask slips and I glimpse . . .

  The boy who used to love her? He glimpsed him as well.

  “For all I know you could be a spy.” She sat up abruptly. “Wait . . . is that it? Is that what you’re hiding?”

  It was high time for seductive, inquisitive ladies to be ushered back to their own bedchambers. “Ha ha,” he laughed heartily. “You’ve guessed it. I’m a spy. I’m a highly trained, lethal, ruthless clandestine operative who lives for a higher purpose.”

  She stared at him for a few awful moments. He didn’t dare to breathe.

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh what was I thinking, of course you’re not a spy. You’re a trophy hunter, a mercenary. You keep the Wish Diamond on your desk as if it were a piece of glass and not one of the most priceless treasures in the world and worthy of its own room in a museum.”

  He forced himself to grin at her. “Can we please not rehash the tired subject of our ethical differences? I’m little more than a pirate, and you’re going to change the world. I think we’ve established as much.”

  “Have we?” She tilted her head and fixed him with that searching gaze again.

  “Do you trust me enough to tell me what you’re looking for?” he asked. “How you’re going to change the world?”

  She smiled. “It’s funny, but I do trust you now. You said earlier that Cleopatra would wear a jewel like the Wish Diamond and you had no idea how appropriate your comment was. I need the stone to corroborate my translation of a map that I believe may lead me to Antony and Cleopatra’s long-lost tomb.”

  “I’m not surprised. I knew you must be on the trail of a grand prize. You’ve been obsessed with Cleopatra since girlhood. I remember you draping yourself in sheets and quoting from the Shakespeare play. You always took such a long, dramatic time to die.”

  She raised her head. “Die where thou has hast lived. Quicken with kissing. Had my lips that power, thus would I wear them out.”

  Raven kissed her lips. “I am dying, Egypt, dying. Give me some wine and let me speak a little.”

  “Noblest of men, wouldst thou die? Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abide in this dull world, which in thy absence is no better than a sty?”

  “That’s when you’d start staggering around, clutching your chest and moaning.” He chuckled. “I always thought if you didn’t become an archaeologist, you’d become a stage actress and truly scandalize London society.”

  “All the world’s my stage,” she declared.

  “And all the men merely players.”

  “When did you start memorizing Shakespeare?” she asked. “You always refused to when we were children.”

  He’d memorized Shakespeare’s plays during his assignments because it made him feel closer to Indy. “Perhaps you don’t know what’s up my alley.”

  “Apparently not.” She shivered slightly.

  “You’re cold. The fire’s gone out.”

  “I think I should go to my bed now.” She shrugged into her shift.

  He’d been hoping she might suggest warming herself in his bed. But it was better this way. They’d already gone too far.

  Good God. The things they’d done tonight. The oaths he’d already broken.

  He helped her rise and then found her gown and boots.

  While she dressed, he donned a robed and rolled up the map of Paris she’d brought to his room, fastening it with a piece of twine.

  “Here,” she said softly, holding out her hand. The Wish Diamond sparkled against her palm.

  “Keep it,” he said. “Wear it tomorrow.”

  “I’m confident that tomorrow evening our search will bear fruit.”

  “And then you can start your quest for the tomb.”

  She nodded, her eyes shadowed and unreadable. “Yes. One search leads to the other. Good night.”

  She left.

  He lay awake, waiting for her to fall asleep. He’d go out again as soon as he was sure she slept soundly.

  He imagined what her breathing sounded like in sleep. The little noises she made.

  He’d been denying himself any real and meaningful connection with another human being for so long. He’d been so wrong to think that this journey with her could be kept on a surface level.

  She was his weakness. But she also gave him a new strength of purpose.

  He’d been so busy resolving conflicts on the world stage that he’d created this war between them. Now all he wanted to do was lay down his weapons.

  Being with her made him want to strive toward different goals. Selfish goals that had far more to do with making her happy than finding the damned stone.

  When she’d looked up at him in the museum, her eyes shining and said, “We found it, Raven,” an overwhelming sense of rightness had flowed into his heart. He hadn’t been elated about the possibility of ending the search. He’d overflowed with joy because she was happy.

  The foundations of his life had been shaken in that church in Athens. And the new footing he’d found, the only thing that seemed to make sense or feel right in any way, was to give her joy.

  Indy lay awake, unable to sleep.

  What had just happened? All of her resolutions, all of her promises broken.

  Apparently when she saw Raven strip off his clothing, all bets were off.

  She’d turned her dreams to reality in the most wanton, shameless way imaginable.

  What exactly had they done? She’d certainly never heard of, nor imagined, such an act.

  What would one even call such a thing? Simultaneous ministrations? Double the pleasure?

  His cock inside her mouth, while he licked her intimate places. Truly depraved.

  She wanted to do it again.

  She wanted to feel him inside her body, and not only with his fingers, or his tongue.

  She loved him. There was no other explanation for this madness.

  She loved him, she wanted him, and he made her a fool. While she’d bared herself completely, he’d remained in control of his emotions and his secrets.

  Shite. Balls. Damn his topaz eyes! Why must she love him? Why couldn’t she remain impassive?

  She rolled onto her side, curling around a pillow. Tomorrow she’d spend the day alone. She needed space to breathe and time to think.

  Raven had too much time to think as he crouched in the darkness.

  The crenelated wall of Le Triton’s fortress rose before him, piercing the night sky like the spines along the back of some mythological beast.

  Four guards patrolled the perimeter of the property. They passed at regular intervals, stopping to exchange a few words before resuming their diverging paths.

  He’d seen two more guards atop the walls. No doubt there were at least a dozen guards in total. Le Triton would employ no less.

  The main entrance was watched by a gatekeeper whose lamp was still
burning. These were no ordinary servants. They were trained, lethal operatives.

  Attempting to scale the wall, or enter the fortress by force, would be foolhardy in the extreme.

  He must wait for Sir Malcolm’s signal and rendezvous with the attack team. He’d give them the details he’d gleaned and they’d form a plan. He was confident that Malcolm would contact him by tomorrow afternoon.

  Then, Raven’s job would be to solicit the invitation to enter the Le Triton’s house as his guest. The Wish Diamond was his entrance fee.

  And Indy his enticement.

  Tomorrow the game would commence.

  He sat back on his heels, remembering their night of passion. The sight of her with her hair tumbling around her shoulders and a purple diamond glittering between her mauve-tipped breasts.

  He would remember the sight for the rest of his life. And he would remember the sound of his name on her lips. The exquisite touch of her fingers along his jaw.

  The softness of her lips. The silk of her hair brushing across his belly.

  When he lay dying, his last thought would be of her, of the heaven he’d known on earth.

  The balm of her smile.

  The temple of her eyes.

  Chapter 18

  The soiree was to be held in the ground-floor ballroom. When Harris finally pronounced him elegant enough, Raven knocked on Indy’s door. He hadn’t seen her since the previous night’s glorious madness.

  He’d been reliving every word, every glance, every kiss . . . when he was supposed to be solidifying all of the details for the raid.

  Everything was in place. Sir Malcolm and his team had arrived and were waiting for Raven’s signal. He’d told them the number and location of the guards on the outside of Le Triton’s property. Now his job was to elicit the invitation from Le Triton to visit his fortress.

  With Raven striking from the inside, and the team of agents from the outside, they could retrieve the stone and bring down Le Triton in the process.

  Raven had a pistol concealed beneath his coat, and Miss Mina’s unusual timepiece in his waistcoat pocket.

  Indy’s door opened and a lady’s maid emerged. “She’s nearly ready, Your Grace,” the maid said with a curtsy. “She bids you wait inside.”

  The maid left and Raven entered Indy’s chamber.

  “One moment,” Indy called from behind a carved wooden screen.

  Various rustling noises emerged from behind the screen and the floral-vanilla-pepper scent of her perfume lingered in the air.

  He adjusted the diamonds at his cuffs and rearranged the chain of his pocket watch, unaccountably nervous. He was never nervous.

  Nerves implied the ability to envision potentially disastrous outcomes. He never doubted or questioned his abilities. He plunged headfirst into the unknown with the confidence that he would win against all odds.

  He contemplated offering to help her with any hooks and then gave himself a stern mental shake. Tonight would be all business.

  Le Triton would take one look at the Wish Diamond sparkling against Indy’s luxurious bosom and be willing to do anything to purchase the necklace. Raven still didn’t like involving her, but she’d insisted, and he had to trust her.

  She’d asked him to meet her halfway, and he was fully there.

  That must be why his nerves were jangling a discordant tune, why he’d been on edge all day.

  If Indy appeared from behind the screen with fresh hurt and pain behind her smile and buried in her eyes, he was going to hate himself even more.

  You don’t regret even one kiss. One touch. You would do it all again in a heartbeat.

  She walked out from behind the screen.

  Time slowed. His heart forgot how to pump blood through his body.

  Curves poured into a gown the color of mulberry wine. The purple diamond at her throat sparkling the same color as her eyes, glossy black hair piled atop her head and fixed with a jeweled clip.

  “Raven.” She stuck out her chin. “Would you please stop staring at me as though I’ve sprouted a second head? I know it’s ridiculous.” She tugged at the ruffles at the neck of her gown. “I can’t abide voluminous sleeves and tiers of ruffles. Lucy latched on to me and she wouldn’t let go until I agreed to wear this purple silk monstrosity.”

  It wasn’t the gown that made his brain feel like it had sprouted a layer of mushrooms like a damp log in a forest.

  It was Indy.

  The memory of her satiny smooth skin and her long hair tangling around her shoulders, brushing over his chest as she rose above him.

  “Say something, please,” she urged. “If you don’t say something this instant I’m going to go and change back into one of my everyday gowns.”

  He said the first thing that came to mind. “I wish I had something to give you.”

  She tilted her head. “What did you say?”

  “Men give women bouquets of flowers, don’t they? Or maybe flowers would have been too conventional? You would prefer something more unexpected, I’d wager. A rare relic from a curiosity shop. Or a heavy book about antiquities. The heavier the better.”

  He was babbling. He never babbled.

  The look on her face made his heart ache for all of the normal, everyday milestones in life that he’d given up when he became a secret agent. Courting Indy—properly courting her—would have been such a grand and unpredictable adventure.

  “Never mind gifts. Let’s go downstairs and find a thief,” she said.

  He smiled. “I’m glad you’re on my side, Indy. Tonight you’re the big guns. They won’t know what hit them.”

  She’d blasted straight through his defensive line.

  You’re heart-stoppingly beautiful, was what he should have said. Forget-any-other-reason-for-living beautiful.

  She snorted. “Men are so easy to bedazzle. A low-cut gown, a shiny diamond, and you’re like babes with a rattle: you can’t look away.” A smile played at her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He stood up straighter. “You approve?” He couldn’t help preening a little. Harris had fussed and hovered but Raven had been rather pleased with the results.

  She moved closer. “You look good enough to eat.”

  “Now, now, none of that, my lady.” He couldn’t very well escort her into the ball with a visible erection. The attraction between them was evergreen and ever present, that much was abundantly, firmly, clear.

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t think that gown’s a monstrosity. It’s more like a superbly designed weapon of seduction.” She’d moved closer. He slid his finger along the edge of one of her sleeves. “This subtle pattern worked into the silk, like the bull’s-eye of a target—it’s meant to draw the gaze.”

  “I may be wearing a seductive silk gown but I’m still me.” She drew up her hem to show him that underneath her long skirts she wore her trusty black leather boots. “I drew the line at French heels.”

  A vision of her as a young hoyden sprang to mind. Indy wearing scuffed boots, running after him, falling and scraping her knees and getting right back up.

  No tears. No fuss.

  Emotion knotted in his throat. He wasn’t himself. He had to focus, regain his balance.

  They had a job to do.

  “I’ll bet you have that sharp dagger hidden somewhere,” he said.

  “I might have,” she said with an arch smile.

  Probably tucked into her silk garter. The garter that was currently hugging her supple, shapely thigh. The thigh he wanted to wrap around his hips as he drove home inside her silken heat . . .

  “Raven.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Are we going down?”

  “Er . . . of course. But before we do . . . I asked you for a truce back in London. I’d like to ask again. We’re on a mission and we’re going to win. It’s an equal partnership, and I trust you completely to uphold your end.”

  “Agreed. We’re a team. Shall we shake hands on it?”

  Another lump of emotion in his throat as her
gloved hand slipped into his and fit so perfectly.

  He lifted her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles.

  My lady.” He offered his elbow and she placed her gloved hand on his arm.

  “These diplomatic affairs are usually quite dull,” he said as they walked down the corridor toward the grand staircase. “Every rule of protocol and precedence has to be followed with precision or someone will take offense.”

  “You don’t have to lecture me on protocol. My mother was the queen of protocol. She drilled me on every nuance of French and German court life on the off chance that I might meet a foreign prince and become a princess.” She laughed. “Poor Mama. She always wanted me to have our engagement formally dissolved. My spinsterhood is a terrible cross for her to bear.”

  She said the words so lightly but they settled like a heavy weight across his chest. “I don’t think we’ll have any princes tonight. Mostly ambassadors. A few consul generals. A smattering of first secretaries and French ministers. I hate these affairs, the stiffness and formality of these dreary occasions. Everyone is on their best behavior because of mutual mistrust. If you scratch beneath the polite veneer, though, the room will be a seething hotbed of intrigue and secrets.”

  “I’ve heard that many diplomats are actually spies. Is that true?”

  “Possibly,” he said carefully.

  They paused in front of the doorway to the ballroom.

  “I’m sure we’ll have to field multiple questions about our wedding plans,” said Indy.

  “Maybe you’ll start a craze for pineapple gowns.”

  “Or you could bring back the fashion for pink silk doublets. Which, incidentally, would not be a good look for you.”

  “I would make it work,” he said.

  Indy laughed. “Onward into the fray, my antiquated dandy.”

  “Antiquated? I’m only one year older than you. And I’m not a dandy, I’m a rogue.”

  “You’re my rogue,” she said, placing her hand on his arm.

  His heart beat faster. “And you’re my adventuress.”

  “Let’s have an adventure, then.”

  Sir Charles had hired a string quartet and they were playing something shimmering and virtuoso by Mozart. Raven had the thought that there should be music playing in every room he and Indy entered together.