The Agent

by Ellen Lane

  Though the shooting schedule was busy and Regina made a number of insane demands that had him wondering if she was trying, specifically, to punish him, work usually ended around eight every evening.

  Which meant they had a certain amount of free time. Russell always found Alice lingering in her makeshift workspace. He always liked to take a few extra minutes to watch her when she thought he wasn’t looking. It was fascinating to watch Alice at work – bent over a sewing machine with an intense look of concentration on her face. Sometimes, she worked freehand with designs, drawing on fabric before gazing longingly at the pieces as if she could see exactly what they would look like when they came together.

  Which, Russell had to remind himself, she almost certainly could.

  She looked at fabrics, needles and numerous sketches almost as lovingly as she looked at pictures of her niece on her phone, which Russell found her looking at whenever she could. Alice, he realized, was completely unlike him in that she had a powerful capacity to love. She told him that she had never found the right man, but in reality, the right man had never appeared to her.

  Was it supposed to shock him that Alice had high standards? There were many women he met who had such standards needlessly. They wanted a perfect man when they themselves had no idea who they were. Alice was the exact opposite. She knew exactly what she wanted, but was afraid she’d never find it. It was no wonder no man ever measured up to what she wanted. Pleasing Alice Tate would, no doubt, be a tall order.

  One he wished he could fulfill.

  On the fourth morning of their stay, Russell forced himself to slip from bed and go down to the main desk to take his messages. His mind was still on the woman asleep waiting for him as he flipped through the several notes that demanded his attention when one in particular gave him pause.

  It was a British number – and not his family’s. The name for the contact was Michael Tate.

  Russell immediately arched a brow in curiosity. Michael Tate was Alice’s older brother. Why in the world would he have been trying to contact him? Of course, off the bat, he could only think one true justification, and it didn’t bode well for him. If Michael was planning to lay into him for pursuing or abusing his younger sister, Russell couldn’t believe that Alice knew about it. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who relied on her elder brother to protect her. If anything, Russell could see her browbeating Michael for attempting to insert himself into her business.

  But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t call Lord Michael Tate to have a man-to-man with him.

  Russell checked the rest of his messages before thanking and tipping the girl behind the desk. Then, he headed to the veranda outside of one of the resort’s hotels to make the call. Though he was almost certain that Tate didn’t know his personal number, he answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Lord Michael Tate?” Russell inquired levelly. “This is Russell Darwell. You asked me to call you?” At the title he hadn’t heard in a long time, Russell sighed. “Lord Russell Darwell. Isn’t it?”

  “Hardly.” He replied levelly. “I gave up my title when I left England. Now the right is my younger half-brother’s to claim.”

  “How terribly convenient for you.”

  At Michael’s acerbic tone, Russell re-evaluated the way he planned to approach this conversation. It was obvious that Tate was angry with him. He could only imagine how angry, assuming that Alice had told her brother of his behavior the last time she visited him. If that was the case, then Russell deserved the brunt of his fury. What he did not deserve, however, was to have his opinion ignored completely. After all, he could have chosen not to return Michael’s call.

  But he had never been the cowardly type.

  “Lord Tate, to what do I owe the honor of your conversation?”

  When he replied, Lord Michael didn’t mince words. “I want to know exactly what your intentions are with my sister, Darwell. When she last came to Britain, she was torn to pieces because of your behavior, and now I see tabloid covers that you two are frolicking in Aruba. I would thank you kindly not to toy with my sister’s emotions. She’s not some idiotic fan hanging on your coattails. She’s a successful woman in her own right.”

  “Lord Tate, I think you misunderstand the situation.” Alice was almost thirty years old, and Michael older than that. Wasn’t it a bit late for him to be hovering over her? Especially from half a world away? “Alice and I are both consenting adults. I’m not physically harming her and I have no intent to abuse her. That taken into account, I think it might be better if you stopped trying to parent her.”

  His words were brusque but not unkind. He had, after all, always been the direct type. Especially when it came to other men of station.

  Michael’s reaction was predictable.

  “Listen to me you bloody cad,” he sniped aggressively. “Alice is my sister. My only sister. I’m not parenting her. I’m merely looking out for her welfare. Considering the long trail of heartsick women in your wake, I’d prefer my sister not to go the same way, if she can help it. Admit it: you’ve no real feelings for her. She’s just another way for you to amuse yourself.”

  Well, it seemed Michael didn’t mince his words either. That was perfectly fine with Russell. He had never raised his voice in a battle of wits and he didn’t intend to start now.

  “Lord Tate, how would Alice feel if she knew about this phone call?”

  There was immediate silence from the other end of the line and Russell knew he’d struck a nerve. Despite what Michael insisted about him not having any feelings for Alice, Russell liked to think he knew her very well. In the little time they’d spent together, he was very cognizant of her passions, her likes and dislikes. He knew how quick her temper was, and how acerbic her tongue could be. More than anything, Alice didn’t like people meddling in affairs she was certain she could handle herself.

  “I mean you no offense,” Russell went on carefully, “I just mean to remind you that Alice is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. Quite honestly, I intend to give her whatever she wants if it is within my power to give. She is a very singular woman – both gorgeous and talented – and she deserves a man who will worship her.” One day, Russell hoped, she would marry such a man after he showed her what such relationships could be like. “I suggest you speak to Alice if you want to know how relations are between us. At the moment, I can tell you with complete honesty that she is happy. And I would like for things to remain that way.”

  “Yes, but for how long?” To his surprise, Michael’s words sounded somewhat pleading. “Darwell, I think you underestimate just how much Alice fancies you. She’s never paid a man this much attention in her life, let alone asked me for advice about one. Just so you know, I advised her against seeing you again after she left Britain.” Of course, he had. Any sane man would, considering the way he had left her in the LA airport.

  But things had changed since then. “Michael, it’s lovely that you care for Alice as much as you do. In fact, I find it so lovely that I won’t tell her this call has taken place on one condition.”

  “And what is that?” Michael’s voice was all but a snarl.

  Russell took a deep breath. “That you continue to watch and see what happens between us before you judge me so completely. Is that acceptable?”

  There was another moment of stunned silence before Michael finally replied curtly. “Fine. But know this, Darwell. If you hurt her, I’ll personally cross the Atlantic to wring your neck.”

  Before Russell could reply to the threat, the sharp cry of an infant sounded in the background and his eyes widened in surprise. “Goodbye, Darwell.” Michael ended the conversation curtly. “I’ll be watching you.”

  The baby’s cry was cut off curtly as the connection closed. For a long moment, Russell merely stared at his cell in disbelief.

  Then he remembered, Alice had gone home to celebrate the birth of her niece. Michael was a father to a baby girl.

  A sudden pang
in his gut caught him completely off guard.

  He’d never really considered having children. Of course, when he’d still been heir to the Darwell name, his mother had told him it would be nice if he had them eventually, but he was lucky she’d never pressured him. Since he moved to the US, Russell had done his very best to avoid children. Though he liked women immensely, he didn’t want to be roped into a lifetime relationship with one simply because he’d failed to be careful. That would be embarrassing indeed.

  But now, for the first time since he had properly started his career, Russell wondered what it might be like to have kids. A son or daughter that looked half like him and half like someone else.

  It wasn’t the worst thought. Though his child would inherit no titles, it was nice to imagine that he’d inherit Russell’s traits – along with those of his partner. Wide eyes, dark hair and an adorable smile. Along with that, he found that, with the right woman in his mind’s eye, he didn’t care so terribly much about imagining the mother of his child. Raven hair mussed from lack of sleep, blue eyes utterly imbued with pure love as she rocked in a chair, their child clutched to her breast.

  The mental image made his heart fill more than it properly should, and Russell found his face flushing darkly. What the bloody hell was the matter with him? He was never going to have children, and he certainly wasn’t going to have them with Alice. As he’d just told her brother, she deserved a man who would pamper her and treat her well – a man who could offer her a real commitment.

  Russell would never commit. No matter how much he felt for a woman, that much was impossible. In his mind, he still had his dues to pay to the one woman he’d failed: Amy.

  “What on earth are you doing out here?’ At Alice’s sudden, dulcet tones, Russell whirled to see her standing before him. She looked absolutely enchanting in her crimson sundress and black sunhat shielding her face. Her dark waves tumbled down her back in grand profusion and he wanted nothing more than to take her back to bed and spread them all over the sheets.

  But it was time for another work day.

  “I was taking a few calls.” With an enchanting smile, she glided into his arms, placing a heated kiss on his lips that had him immediately aroused. The woman was a bloody minx if he’d ever known one. She was out to torture him.

  “Good calls, I hope?”

  “Work calls.” He chuckled, clutching her close to him. By this point, he was sure half of Lemmy’s staff knew that they were involved. Though Russell had almost always endeavored not to mix work and pleasure, with Alice, things were different. In a certain sense, she was his coworker – but he’d be damned if that stopped him from being in her bed.

  “Those must be the best kind for you.” She parted from him only reluctantly to take a bite of the pistachio croissant she’d snatched from the breakfast bar. “You know,” she eyed him invitingly through thick lashes. “I’ve been given tomorrow afternoon off. We could go on a day trip, if you like.”

  Russell would most certainly like. Despite his patience, he’d had about all of Regina that he could thoroughly handle in the last few days. If he had to spend another day with her, she might be in mortal danger.

  “And where would this day trip be to?”

  Alice shrugged. “Somewhere close on the island. I could finally make some use of that swimsuit and we could be alone for a few hours…” Dear Lord, when she was around he felt like an idiotic teenage boy. He had to fight the impulse to do whatever she wanted of him.

  But a day trip couldn’t hurt.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  She beamed at him, and for a moment, Russell was all but blinded by the brightness of her smile. “Brilliant. I’ll come to your room to find you around one in the afternoon.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  And he was. Probably much more than he should be. But that, he would never admit.

  Shortly thereafter, Alice set off to her workshop and Russell went off to consult with Lemmy about one of Regina’s racier scenes. The first time she tried to negotiate for more money over a racy scene, she won unequivocally. But by now, Lemmy knew her game. He wanted to aggressively negotiate.

  Which meant he was in for one of the man’s aggravatingly long meetings.

  At least, Russell told himself, he had tomorrow’s outing with Alice to look forward to.

  The negotiations actually ended up going late into the night, and by the time they were finally over, it was close to eleven o’clock. Russell wished that Lemmy would keep the same hours as normal people and give him the opportunity to do the same – but by the time he reached Alice’s room, she wasn’t present either. There was a note for him on the bed informing him that she’d gone out with her two assistants and not to wait up for her.

  For some reason, the words sent a pang of longing through him. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t allowed to have her own plans. That wasn’t it at all. It was merely that he found himself missing her every moment that he didn’t spend with her.

  Bloody hell, Alice Tate had gotten under his skin. To the point where even his own developing feelings – hell, the woman’s own older brother –couldn’t make him see the light of day. If she were any other person, Russell would have long suggested that they go their separate ways. He would have stuck to his guns and ignored the temptation to get close to her.

  Now, despite the calm conversation he’d had with Michael Tate, Russell was anything but calm when it came to Alice. He had no idea what he was going to do about things between them. He enjoyed her company, enjoyed her intelligence and, most of all, he adored her drive. Eventually, they would have to part simply because he didn’t want to hurt her but Russell didn’t see why it had to be anytime soon as long as each of them understood what was between them.

  And what was between them?

  The question made him groan as he entered her bathroom to look over the things Alice left on the sink. The items that Alice carried with her were a reflection of who she was – Tom Ford’s Black Orchid perfume, an expensive ceramic flat-iron, green tea blotting papers and a few mints. Beyond that, her makeup bag was open with an amalgamation of products he had no idea what to label, and a scant pair of her underwear were tossed on the counter, making him swallow thickly.

  He could very well drown in her if he let himself.

  But he wouldn’t let himself, would he?

  Picking up her perfume, Russell inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he remembered what it was like to be skin to skin with her. It had barely been fifteen hours since she’d been in his arms, and yet he was all but pining for her.

  This wouldn’t do at all.

  Russell made the quick decision to hop into the shower and once he had, he slid between the sheets, naked, and willed himself to sleep. If he told himself he was waiting for Alice, he’d be up half the night, thinking thoughts that he had no business contemplating. Even as he told himself this, Russell began to drift off.

  He woke a few hours later to the sight of Alice shedding a skin-tight navy shift not three feet away from him. He was instantly awake, watching hungrily as she peeled the tight fabric over her luscious behind before letting it drop to the floor. She was wearing a set of lacy, forest-green colored lingerie that cupped and supported her in all the right places. From his vantage point, Russell could see the small bruises, kisses and bite marks he’d left on her over the past few days.

  When she reached back to undo her bra, he touched the clasp before she could, making her jump.

  “Bloody hell, Russell. You scared me.” Even as she exclaimed the words, he was pulling her into bed with him, dropping her bra off the edge of the mattress. He expected that she might have had a lot to drink with her girlfriends – gone to a party where there might be other men. But Alice’s gaze wasn’t muddled with alcohol or anything else. If anything, she simply looked a bit tired.

  And breathtakingly beautiful.

  “Have a good time, did you?” He murmured against her mouth, kissing her leisurely. Russell did
n’t stop until Alice was completely breathless. He would make sure that she thought twice about going directly to sleep, no matter the hour.

  “We practically had to carry Mariah back to her room. Poor thing – she takes any excuse to cut loose very literally.”

  Russell chuckled lowly against her neck, amused at the thought of the tiny blonde tottering into things. “Very kind of you.”

  “Well, a shepherdess must tend to her flock.” Alice wrapped her arms around him, sighing as he began to kiss over the line where her neck met her shoulder. “Aren’t you tired? It’s close to two am and we have to get up early tomorrow.”

  “How the bloody hell am I supposed to be tired with you in my arms?” He groaned lowly against her skin, making her shudder. “You’re more potent than coffee, Alice.”

  “Better be careful, Mr. Darwell.” Alice laughed softly as he bit at her collarbone. “All your compliments might go to my head.”

  “I certainly hope so.” With that, he tugged a nipple between his lips, savoring Alice’s low moan of pleasure. She tasted sweet and savory all at once, and the way she arched against his mouth was utterly intoxicating.

  “Russell…” She murmured breathlessly, her fingers threading through his hair even as she tried to protest. “I don’t think I can-”

  “You can.” He growled against her breast. Perhaps he was being selfish, but at that moment, he didn’t care. Who knew how much time he had left with Alice Tate? For all he knew, she could decide the next day that he wasn’t enough for her – since they had started sleeping with one another he was sure the charm would wear off eventually. “And you will.”

  When he flipped her over onto her stomach, Alice lay down quite willingly. As much as she might pretend she didn’t like it when he dominated her in the bedroom, the truth was that she told him just how much she adored it with every undulation of her body against his.

  Slowly, Russell began at the nape of her neck, kissing her slowly, making her with bruises she’d have to wear her hair down to hide the next day. As he worked his way down her spine, Alice whimpered lowly – almost inaudibly. Over the past few nights, Russell had discovered how much she liked to have her back kissed. It was a place many men neglected, but Russell had never been happier to have ventured there with Alice. She liked feeling him go inexorably lower, towards the place where he liked to taste her the most.