Lord Rogue

by Tiffany Green

  There was a sudden shift in the room. The back of Evie’s neck tensed, as though someone watched her. No, not someone. Jeremy. But how ridiculous was that. He was surely busy flirting with every woman in the ballroom.

  The man in black looked up suddenly, his eyes glittering dangerously, and glanced around, before settling his gaze on her. “You should leave,” he ordered, his deep voice striking a chord in her memory.

  “So sorry about the interruption, gentlemen,” she gave a dazzling smile and turned around. As the door closed with a soft click behind her, Evie’s heart felt ready to leap right up her throat and out of her mouth. With her memory triggered, she knew exactly who the man was. She was also aware of the information’s significance.

  As the adrenaline pumped wildly in her veins, she took a shaky step toward the ballroom. She had to find Belle and—

  A hand snaked out of the darkness so suddenly, it stole her breath. His arm wrapped around her waist, while his other hand slipped over her mouth. Could there have been another of Viper’s men watching the door? Frightened near to death, she was just about to take her elbow to his stomach as her aunt had instructed, but halted when he spoke softly in her ear.

  “Sorry, pet, but I would like to kidnap you for just a few minutes, if you please.”

  Evie slid her eyes closed, drinking in every detail of the moment. From the sound of his silky voice in her ear, to the clove and cherry smell of him, to the feel of being pressed against his solid chest. His fingers scorched her bare skin, creating a delicious hum throughout her body.

  God, this was even more difficult than she thought it would be.

  As he pulled her with him into the study, her good senses came rushing to the forefront. Evie’s breath lodged in her throat as the door closed behind them. “What are you doing?” she finally choked out, her words muted behind his hand.

  Jeremy leaned down closer, his breath grazing the top of her ear, sending goosebumps all the way down her legs. “Do not worry, you’re safe with me.”

  For years, Evie’s imagination conjured every scenario where she would be alone with Jeremy. From being stranded together in a blinding snowstorm to accidentally locked in a room somewhere and no one about to let them out. Never had Evie wanted anything so badly in her life. But that was before she went to France. That was before her life had taken a drastic change and a new meaning. That was before she had spent the last four months exorcising the demon that was Jeremy Longwell from her heart.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, Evie reached up and pulled his hand from her mouth. Then she turned slowly to face him, noticing with a sliver of betraying delight he kept his other hand around her waist.

  When their gazes crashed together, Evie would swear some force of energy ploughed right through her, nearly casting her to the ground. Forcing her breathing to slow, she threw back her shoulders to try and get the top of her head to at least reach his chin. It was terribly difficult to order the man about with him towering over her so. “You have exactly two seconds to release me, Lord Fielding.”

  He hid the surprise that flared into his gold and emerald eyes behind a long, lazy smile and adjusted his mask. Evie watched him use the same smile on so many ladies over the years; it made her want to bash him over the head with that annoying Flemish clock ticking away to her left. “And here I thought my Machiavelli costume would win Silver’s prize.” He cocked his head to the side. “Now, in the spirit of fairness, you must tell me who you are.”

  Evie barely kept from snorting. Spirit of fairness? She caught herself just before the words she very much wanted to say tumbled out of her mouth. Instead, she gave one of Belle’s slow, seductive smiles.

  Watching the gold in Jeremy’s eyes glow as they stared at her lips brought so much satisfaction, Evie thought she would swoon with delight. Distracted by her own giddiness, she missed him lowering his head.

  It wasn’t until Evie felt the thunderbolt drive through her, making her knees melt and her pulse race, that she realized what he had done.

  Lord Fielding was actually kissing her!

  As much as she told herself to push him away, her mutinous arms reached up and snaked around his neck. She screamed at herself to back up and walk away, but shimmied even closer to his warm chest. Her internal begging and pleading soon gave way to sheer pleasure. She would hate herself later. Right now, she would enjoy every blessed second of one of her fondest wishes come true.

  How strange that four months ago, her aunt insisted she have certain lessons. Some chaperones would have insisted on dance or music lessons. Not Aunt Belle. No, the first lesson Evie had been taught was kissing lessons, courtesy of Jean Claude.

  And now Madam Irony had stepped forward and offered up Lord Fielding as her first real subject in which to show how apt a student she had become. God, how she wished this moment in time could go on forever. But she had something to do.

  Everything came rushing back. The mission! How could she have forgotten? Evie placed a hand on Lord Fielding’s chest and leaned back.

  “Who are you?” he whispered with a ragged breath, then reached down to untie her mask.

  Chapter 2

  Her voice was somehow familiar, but Jeremy could not place her. His mind quickly sifted through the ladies he knew and discarded them one by one. He thought to distract the golden little temptress with a kiss and peel away her mask. Very simple. Until his lips actually touched hers. And for the very first time in his life, Jeremy lost focus. Her lips were soft and sweet, tasting of honey and mint. She wrapped her arms around him and he pulled her closer, his palm grazing the exposed skin at her shoulder. She was cashmere soft. He had to have a better sample and gave her lips a slight caress with his tongue. She opened and he took full advantage, fitting his mouth over hers and tasting her with deep, long strokes.

  Explosions of light went off behind his eyelids, and all he could think of was peeling away their clothes and taking her there on the sofa, the floor, the chair. Anywhere. Everywhere.

  But in a highly unexpected turn, she settled her hand on his chest, ended the kiss, and leaned back.

  Another first, Jeremy thought, as he opened his dazed eyes. “Who are you?” he asked in a terribly hoarse whisper, reaching for the ribbons that held her mask in place.

  She chuckled, low and sultry as hell, spinning out of his embrace. Before Jeremy could reach for her, she dashed out of the door, the hem of her flowing chiffon dress waving goodbye as she disappeared.

  It took quite a few seconds for him to realize what just happened. This girl, this beautiful young girl had not only played his game, she had played it to perfection. And won. Against him!

  Shaking his head, he stormed out of the room in pursuit.

  He found her easily in the ballroom, accepting a dance from Harold Taskers of all people. With a sigh, Jeremy folded his arms and moved back into the shadows. He pulled out his watch and checked the time. Thirty minutes until midnight. He settled a shoulder against the marble column beside him and watched them.

  A glass of champagne suddenly appeared before his nose. “Why the dark expression, Jeremy? Someone finally refuse you?”

  Jeremy took the glass from the Duchess of Claremont and forced a wolfish smile to his lips to hide how close to the mark those words had hit. “Ah, my beautiful little pet, I was just thinking of the day you married Nick. Broke my heart, you did.”

  Megan’s stern expression wavered a bit, then she shook her head and turned to the dancers.

  “Do you know who she is, the young lady dressed as Helen of Troy dancing with Taskers?” he asked, completely unable to help himself.

  He knew in a split instant she did. The corners of Megan’s lips curled up as she watched Helen a moment, then she turned and glanced up at him; her expression as innocent as sin. “Why Lord Fielding, I cannot believe there is someone in attendance you do not know. Especially a beautiful young lady.”

  He frowned down at the gorgeous little nymph, who was obviously enjoying herself w
ay above half. “I was hoping you would introduce me, if you don’t mind, Megan.”

  True surprise leaped into her eyes when she realized the genuineness of his words. Then, to his amazement, she grew angry. Her hands balled at her sides and tears glazed her eyes. “You leave her alone. You hear me, Jeremy? Leave her alone.” And in a cloud of amethyst silk, Megan spun around and stormed away.

  Jeremy gulped back his champagne in a single swallow. Blast it to hell, could this night get any worse?

  No sooner had the words formed in his head, it did. As midnight approached and the time of the unveiling, Helen disappeared. She had been standing beside Julian, the Marquess of Amersleigh, one minute, the next she was gone. Damn, she could give Ghost lessons on stealth.

  Jeremy straightened from the column, taking another look around. The crowd began counting down the seconds and he narrowed his eyes as a sliver of her costume slipped around the corner leading to the garden.

  Knowing he would never make it to her through the crowd, Jeremy started for the doors at the opposite side of the room to overtake her outside, but Elder suddenly stood before him.

  “We meet in twenty minutes,” the man said and was gone.

  Perfect. Not only had he lost the girl, he had no information to take back to the Guardians. Jeremy felt like a complete failure. This just didn’t happen to him. He was lucky, golden, always on top. Not tonight, though.

  Taking one last glance over his shoulder, Jeremy spied Megan pulling her mask away at the unveiling and narrowed his eyes. He would find out Helen’s true identity. In that, he would not fail.

  Evie could hardly contain her excitement. She fidgeted within the coach, a mass of charged energy. She picked at the ribbons of the gold mask lying in her lap and sighed. What a night! Never before had so many people wanted to talk to her, to dance with her…to kiss her. She couldn’t stop the slow grin from forming. How many times had she imagined kissing Lord Fielding?

  It was even better than she thought it would be.

  “You did well tonight.”

  Glancing up, Evie grinned at her aunt. “It was fun. Is that a strange thing to admit?”

  Belle’s own grin broke free. “Not at all. I feel the same.” She leaned forward and took Evie’s hands. “You are a natural, dearest. You succeeded where others have failed.” She gave her hands a squeeze. “What has taken the men years to learn, you, a young lady, took minutes. Be proud of that.”

  Those words brought about a warm glow to Evie’s heart. Her life had been a miserable failure for so long. But no more. Not since Belle had come into her life and helped her lose weight, obtain a new wardrobe, and find a purpose other than pining over Lord Fielding.

  Her aunt leaned back in the coach and assessed her with knowing blue eyes. Even at fifty-five years old, Aunt Belle was one the most beautiful women Evie had ever seen. Although her blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes looked quite innocent, Belle was an expert in self-protection and information extraction. And she was teaching Evie everything.

  Goodness, Evie still couldn’t believe she was training as a spy!

  She wondered how Belle had managed to keep her true nature and identity so well hidden from the family all these years. Her brother, Ash, suspected nothing, and Belle had admitted Evie’s parents never knew when they were alive.

  “You nervous about tomorrow?” Belle asked.

  Plucking at the mask’s ribbons, Evie nodded. “Meeting the Guardians.” She lifted her head. “Do you know who they are?”

  Belle flipped a golden lock over her shoulder. The diamonds in her necklace caught a beam of moonlight coming in through the carriage window and glistened in the dim light. “In the presence of the Guardians, we are all equal, male and female, titled and untitled. And we use only our Guardian names amongst one another when meeting for official business.”

  Evie raised her brows, realizing Belle never answered her question. “What do you do if you see one of the Guardians at the park or at a ball?”

  “Simple, dearest. If you knew them before, you speak as you had before. If you only know them within the sphere of the Guardians, you do not acknowledge them unless someone introduces you.” Belle paused. “It must be natural. No one can suspect a thing.”

  Evie absorbed those words, wondering if there was anyone she knew who was a part of the agency. She would find out soon enough.

  “You still have time to change your mind about joining.”

  Those softly spoken words made Evie look up with wide eyes. “Why would I change my mind?”

  Belle’s lips pursed a moment. “Once you accept being a member of the Guardians, it is a lifelong commitment. You can never marry, can never have children.”

  Evie heard just a touch of remorse laced in Belle’s words and wondered if her aunt had come to regret her decision. But Evie wouldn’t. She would never love anyone but Jeremy Longwell, Lord Fielding, and he would never love her. So, this was actually the perfect solution. A Godsend. She needed something to do with her life that took away the anguish. Something that gave her purpose, that kept her from thinking about him all day, every day. She could travel with Belle to exotic locations on Guardian business and solve mysteries or bring evil men to justice.

  She would be so distracted from her heartache that she would forget all about Lord Fielding.

  “Fortunately, you will have a month to decide on becoming a full member.”

  Evie studied her aunt for a moment. Those blue eyes spoke of some great mystery from years past, something that still bothered her but she was desperate to forget. Perhaps Belle had suffered as Evie had and used the Guardians to get over him?

  She cocked her head to the side. “You can never get out of the Guardians once you decide to join them?”

  Belle snuggled deeper into her fox lined coat. “It is not an organization that allows one to come and go at will. People’s lives are at stake. But it is possible, I suppose. It would surely have to be voted on and every member agree.”

  “Has it ever happened before?”

  “No, never.”

  Nineteen minutes and forty-seven seconds later, Jeremy gave the secret password and the heavy metal door screeched open. The room was abuzz, no doubt expecting him to provide the identity of the fifth man. The very leader of the Viper’s Nest. Shoulders hunched forward, Jeremy moved into the room as the echo of the metal door slammed shut behind him, bouncing off the flinty walls.

  Everyone quit speaking and glanced up, all eyes following him across the room.

  Was it always so cold down here?

  Elder motioned him forward and Jeremy stepped before the group. Failure, indeed. He had let everyone down, and there would probably never be a chance like that again. The leader of the Nest never came out of hiding. He was a recluse who ruled his nefarious organization with deadly consequences, but within a sphere of meticulous secrecy.

  “What news, Rogue?” Elder asked, still dressed as Lord Nelson. He’d removed the hat at least.

  Jeremy cleared his throat. This would be difficult, painful even. “I apologize,” he paused to draw in a deep breath, “I was unable to verify the man’s identity.”

  A ripple went through the Guardians. They glanced at each other, some shaking their heads while others shrugged their shoulders.

  Elder held up his hand and the room fell silent. Jeremy shifted from foot to foot, grinding his teeth together in frustration. Rarely did he return from a mission without even the smallest bit of new information to add. Other than Taskers sporting a fresh pair of Hessians, he had nothing.

  “Do not fret, Rogue,” Elder said, and a smile broke free. “Thanks to Falcon, we not only have the man’s identity, but a possible location of the Viper’s Nest itself.”

  Jeremy had heard stories about men’s luck changing in one fell swoop. He hadn’t believed it. How could luck possibly turn so drastically in the blink of an eye? Pure rubbish. Now, he would have to rethink the idea.

  Then anger found its mark. He stormed two
steps to Elder and leaned over the table. “No way. No bloody way can I accept that, Elder. No one got close to those men.” He glanced around the room, seeing only the Guardians he knew. “Who is this Falcon, anyway?”

  “You two shall meet, but in good time, Rogue.” There was a bit of amusement dancing in Elder’s eyes, then the man waved him away. “Go home. Get some rest. We will talk m—”

  “What about the information?” Jeremy crossed his arms. He supposed Falcon could have listened in through an open window on the outside of the house. Would have been very tricky, though. “How can you be sure it’s accurate?”

  “I’m sure the information is correct.” Elder leaned back in his chair, assessing Jeremy for a moment, then nodded as if coming to some conclusion. “It’s Lord Montague and his Nest is located within some caves at West Wycombe.”

  Jeremy’s hands slid down his body. “Montague? As in my sister’s husband?” But the pieces fit. The man, although hidden in a damn good costume, was the same size. Jeremy was certain he would have been able to identify Montague’s voice had he the opportunity to hear him. But he had gotten somewhat distracted.

  Dazzling sherry-colored eyes behind a golden mask sprang to his mind, along with that kiss. Given the opportunity to repeat the night’s events, Jeremy wasn’t at all certain he would have done differently. The lady would haunt him until he found her. He must go and visit Megan tomorr—

  “Ahem.”

  Jeremy snapped his head up. “What?”

  Elder’s eyes softened. He rose from his seat and came around the table. Placing a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, he spoke gently. “I know this is quite a blow. Go home, Rogue. Get some rest. We will talk tomorrow evening. You can meet Falcon then.”

  Jeremy nodded his agreement and turned to the door. This Falcon must be the best recruit the Guardians had ever brought on. His shoulders slumped as he climbed the slick stone steps.

  Today he had failed to learn a critical identity. Tomorrow, he would not fail. Tomorrow, he would find out the identity of two people: Falcon and Helen of Troy. And he’d be damned if he would fail again.