The Charade

by Laura Lee Guhrke

  Inside her room, he kicked the door shut and set her on her feet. He took the candle from her and grabbed her hand, then led her across the room to the bed. He set the candle on the bedside table and turned to her.

  Katie looked at him in the candlelight. She could see all his desire for her in his eyes, and it gave her a feeling of feminine power that rushed to her head like strong wine. For tonight at least, he would belong to her and she to him.

  Their gazes locked. Simultaneously, they began taking off layers of clothing.

  Her dress slid down her legs in a swish of silk.

  His boots hit the floor with a thud.

  Her stays and petticoat landed in a far corner of the room. His waistcoat and breeches followed them.

  Neither of them spoke as, piece by piece, they removed the last barriers that separated them. But when he was naked and she was down to only her chemise, he broke the silence.

  “I remember the last time I was in this room,” he said, and reached out to touch the soft cotton of her chemise. “When I saw you wrapped in nothing but a towel, your skin still damp from your bath. You have no idea how hard it was for me to leave you that night.”

  Katie drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Why did you leave?”

  Ethan lifted one hand to brush aside the golden wisps of short hair that curled against the base of her neck. He kissed her there, savoring the velvety softness of her skin. Arousal was coursing through his body with all the furor of a hurricane, and he knew that nothing could make him stop this time. Tonight, King George’s whole army couldn’t stop him from having her.

  “Damned if I know,” he answered her question, and lifted the hem of her chemise. She raised her arms toward the ceiling, and he pulled the chemise over her head, then sent it flying across the room.

  He reached for her, but, unexpectedly, she stopped him. She drew back a little, tilted her head to one side, and gave his entire body a speculative, sidelong glance from beneath her lashes. Somehow, that look made him want to smile. Trust Katie to see if she’d gotten a bargain.

  She must have thought so, for she looked up at him and smiled as if very well pleased. Her smile, his greatest weakness. At that moment, if she had asked him for his soul, he would have handed it to her.

  He slid one arm around her waist and ran the palm of his other hand up her ribs to cup her breast. When she melted back against him with a moan, he laughed with satisfaction. What a beautiful, vibrant woman she was. He loved it.

  He spread his hand against her side, his thumb caressing her ribs as he bent his head to press a kiss to her shoulder, his breath blowing warmth against her skin and making her shiver.

  Against the palm of his other hand, the nipple of her breast was hard and pebbled, and he closed his thumb and forefinger around the tiny nub as he trailed kisses along her shoulder and up the side of her neck to her ear.

  As he nibbled her earlobe, he rolled her nipple gently back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, savoring the soft moans of feminine desire that his hands and mouth tore from her throat.

  The sounds of her pleasure were so incredibly erotic that his own body shuddered in response. With his hands on her shoulders, he moved several steps sideways toward the head of the bed, taking her with him as if they were caught up in a slow, erotic dance. He stepped around her and pulled the sheet and counterpane down to the foot of the bed. Then he lay down and reached for her.

  Katie felt her body falling forward beside his into the soft feather mattress and her heart falling into his hands. She rolled onto her back, and he moved closer until his hard arousal was pressing against her hip. Slowly, he lifted his hand to touch her face.

  She closed her eyes and felt his fingertips lightly brush her jaw, her throat, and her collarbone, on a slow and inevitable journey to her breast. The tip of his finger touched her nipple, but his hand stopped there, and he made no move to continue his exploration of her body.

  Why did he stop? she wondered wildly. What on earth is he doing?

  She opened her eyes and found to her amazement that he was staring not at her body but at her face, as if he had been waiting for her to open her eyes. Then he spoke.

  “Since I saw you in that damned towel the other night, I have imagined this moment at least a hundred times,” he said in a low, hoarse whisper, “but even in my imagination, you were not as beautiful as this.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” She reached up and touched his cheek, then slid her hand into his hair. She wanted this man, wanted him as she had never wanted a man before. She pulled his face down to hers for a long, hard kiss.

  She felt his hand glide down her ribs and across her hipbone, then move lower still, parting her thighs. She cried out against his mouth as he touched her, shocked not only by the scorching intimacy of it but also by how that touch made her feel, as if she were melting into liquid fire.

  Jolted by the pure pleasure of his stroking fingers, Katie could not help the moans that broke from her lips as he caressed her. She felt an odd, breathless tension rising inside her. “Ethan,” she cried. “Ethan, please.”

  She felt as if she must be burning alive. She could hear her own voice calling his name over and over, but she could not seem to stop. That queer, piercing tension inside her rose higher with every caress of his hand, building until she was sure she could no longer stand it. Then, suddenly, everything inside her seemed to ignite and explode, sending rippling waves of exquisite pleasure through her entire body.

  She was still tingling with the delicious sensations when he withdrew his hand. She felt him move, felt his weight and strength as he rolled on top of her, pushing her into the mattress with a sudden, masculine urgency, overwhelming her with the power of his body.

  She cried out as he entered her, a startled cry of pain at his hard invasion, and he must have known it hurt, for he stilled above her. She felt his arms slide beneath her to hold her close, and he bent his head to nuzzle her neck.

  He held her tight for a long moment, and, slowly, the stinging pain began to ebb away as he kissed her throat and murmured soft, unintelligible words against her skin. Though she did not know what he said, there was a coaxing reassurance in his voice that both soothed and aroused her. She could feel him, hard and heavy inside her, and an aching warmth spread through her limbs. She moved her hips against his experimentally.

  “Katie,” he groaned against her neck. “God, don’t do that. Not yet. You’re not ready.”

  Katie felt more than ready for what she knew lay ahead. She sucked in a deep breath and began to move beneath him.

  “Katie, no,” he said again, but she did not heed his command, and with a hoarse cry he responded, his breathing harsh and ragged as he moved forcefully within her. She buried her face against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his broad back, caressing him as her body rocked in rhythm with his, tightening and releasing in time with each thrust he made.

  The tension inside her began building again, growing stronger until, suddenly, without warning, she felt again that exquisite explosion of carnal sensation. Her body tightened convulsively around him as the pleasure washed over her. She cried out, thrusting her hips upward against his, an urgent demand for him to take his pleasure, as she had taken hers.

  As if he had been waiting for that, he answered her demand with a visceral sound of purely masculine exultation, and she felt him shudder with the force of his climax. His body thrust hard against hers one last time, then stilled.

  Her hands caressed his back as she felt the tension slowly leave his body and lethargy take its place. When he rolled to his side, he took her with him, cradling her against his body. Within minutes, she heard his breathing deepen into sleep. She slid out of his embrace long enough to blow out the candle and pull the sheet that had tangled at the foot of the bed over them both. Then she snuggled back against his body. Though he did not waken, his arm wrapped itself protectively around her.

  Katie welcomed the shelter of his arms. She
had just been ravished, and yet she had never felt more safe than she did right now.

  Deep down in her heart, she knew safety was an illusion. She knew none of this would last, that she could not keep her secret forever. One day, when he discovered the truth about her, when he realized the extent of her deceit, he would surely despise her. She prayed she would be gone by then, and she refused to spoil the beauty of this one night with painful speculations about the future.

  She rested her cheek against his chest and felt the hard, round shape of the Liberty medal he wore against her skin. She closed her eyes tight, willing herself to forget about his cause, about Lowden, about everything but him.

  I have him tonight, she told herself, listening to his strong heartbeat beneath her ear. Tonight is all that counts.

  15

  Katie woke to a flood of sunlight that told her dawn had given way to day. She blinked against the brightness and came fully awake to the knowledge that Ethan was asleep beside her. She could feel his arm across her waist and his thigh against her hip. The warmth and scent of him filled her senses, and she turned her head to look at him. He lay facing her, half covered by the counterpane, one arm curled around the pillow beneath his head, the other draped over her. He was asleep, and she eased her way out from beneath his arm. She sat up, studying him as he slept.

  He needed a shave, she thought, noting the shadow of beard stubble on his face. His long hair lay in a rippling black stream across the white cotton sheeting of the pillow. The muscles of his chest, shoulder, and arm looked as if they had been carved from stone—hard, strong, and impervious to danger. But in the bright morning light, his face showed something else—a vulnerability she had never seen before.

  She smiled with the quiet pleasure of simply watching him sleep. At this moment, he looked so different from the cynical stranger who had first mocked her in the taproom of the Mermaid.

  The lean line of his profile seemed less harsh now than it had then. His mouth had lost that sardonic curve. His eyes were closed now, but last night she had seen no coldness in their gray depths, only tenderness. Here beside her, there was no ruthless, enigmatic spy or elegant, unreachable rich man. No earnest patriot, no mocking stranger. Instead, here was the man who had kissed her and caressed her, the man who had showed her the meaning of passion. The man who had become her lover.

  Filled with an overwhelming tenderness, Katie reached out to touch his face, but she hesitated and drew her hand back. He was sleeping so soundly, she didn’t want to wake him. He needed the rest. It would probably do him good to sleep all day.

  She glanced at the window. Much longer, and he probably would. It was broad daylight.

  Daylight.

  That realization doused her contentment as effectively as a bucket of ice water, and Katie felt a sudden, suffocating fear. It was long past dawn, and it was Saturday. She should have been at the marketplace to meet Worth long before now.

  She pushed back the sheets and slid out of bed, wincing at the soreness in her body, a disconcerting reminder of what had happened the night before. She crossed the room to the armoire and began to dress hurriedly, hoping Ethan did not awaken before she could leave.

  As she dressed, all the ramifications and consequences of the last night played across her mind, and, try as she might, she could not banish them with her usual brash confidence and optimism. Last night, she had not allowed herself to think. Now, she could not seem to do anything else.

  Lowden would be returning any day, and he would want a full report from her on John Smith. What was she going to tell him? If she did not hand Ethan over to him, how long could she play for time before he grew tired of her incompetence as a spy and send her back to Willoughby?

  There could be a child as a result of last night. Then what would she do? If she were pregnant, would Ethan marry her? She wanted to laugh at that notion the moment it entered her head. She knew full well how these things turned out. And if their difference in station weren’t enough, there was also that inconvenient little fact that she was the spy for his enemy.

  She might be able to persuade Ethan to buy her indenture. That would save her from Willoughby, but it would not save her from the gallows if Lowden decided to use that arrest warrant against her.

  There was also another hard fact to be faced. The charade was reality now. She had become Ethan’s mistress in truth. She had broken the one and only vow she had ever made to herself, a vow made when she was eleven years old and on the London streets. She had become her mother. Just like her mother.

  Life, Katie decided, was hell on earth.

  “Where are you going?”

  Katie froze at the sound of Ethan’s voice. Her hands stilled in the act of buttoning her dress. She turned her back to the bed, knowing she could not bear to look at him now, and finished buttoning her dress. “I am going out.”

  “Out? Where?”

  Katie began searching through the armoire for her cloak, wishing only to be gone as quickly as possible, but then she remembered her cloak was still in Ethan’s carriage. With a muffled oath, she jerked a knitted shawl off one of the shelves. The last thing she wanted to do at this moment was answer questions and make up lies. She felt suffocated, with the weight of deceit smothering her, and all she wanted was to get out of this room. Flinging the shawl across her shoulders, she grabbed a bonnet out of the armoire and whirled around to face him. “Am I a prisoner here?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then I will go anywhere I please, and where I go is not your concern. You don’t own me.” She slapped the bonnet down her head, and she didn’t give a damn that it didn’t match her dress.

  “Running away, are you, Katie?”

  “Yes!” she flung back over her shoulder as she headed for the door.

  “Why?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached for the door handle, but he was out of the bed and behind her before she could get the door fully open. He flattened his hand against it and slammed it shut.

  She could feel the heat of his naked body as he leaned into her, his arms trapping her against the door. His breath was warm in her ear. “What are you running from?” he asked again. “Me or yourself?”

  “Don’t!” she cried, and turned in his arms, feeling trapped, defensive, and very frightened by the tangled web of lies she had woven around them both. She took refuge in the only truth she could tell him, the only part of her fear she could explain to him. “I watched my mother’s life, I saw her self-respect erode away because she was a man’s mistress, because she was not his wife. I saw how she was treated, how she loathed herself.”

  “Katie—”

  “I vowed I would never allow that to happen to me.” Her voice began to shake, and she knew she was panicking, but she could not help it. She flattened her palms against his chest and pushed him back. “I vowed no man would own me, no man would buy me. But it has happened, hasn’t it?”

  “Katie, don’t turn what happened last night into something sordid. It wasn’t like that.”

  She paid no attention to his words. “I have become exactly what my mother was. I have become a rich man’s mistress. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “Making love is never stupid,” he shot back. “But the morning after is hell.”

  “Indeed it is.”

  “Katie, you are not your mother.”

  “What is the difference, Ethan?” she asked, her voice hard, brittle. “Are you going to marry me now?”

  He didn’t answer, and with his silence, her mouth twisted in a cynical curve. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “I never expected you to.” She turned her face away, staring at the wall. “Now, please let me leave.”

  “Are you leaving for good?”

  “If I say yes, will you send the constables after me? Will you have them send me back to Willoughby?”

  “If you say no, I will believe you.”

  “So I am your prisoner?”

  He lifted his hands to her face, fo
rced her chin up so she was looking not at the wall but into his eyes. “Katie, the governor is having a ball tonight, and there will be an emissary there from the French government. I need to meet with him in secret at that ball, and I have a plan for how to accomplish that, but I can’t do it without your help. Everything we have been working for hinges on that meeting.”

  Katie was dismayed. “But you said if I helped you find out Lowden’s purpose, you would let me go.”

  “I will arrange to buy your indenture and free you, Katie, as I promised. But these things take time to arrange.”

  “And in the meantime, I am to continue committing sedition with you?”

  “Katie, I need you tonight. If you help me at the ball, that will be the last thing I will demand of you. I swear it. Help me one last time.”

  She felt his thumbs caress her cheeks, and she closed her eyes, trying to shut him out, keep the hard armor around her heart that had always protected her so well. Don’t touch me. Don’t. I can’t bear it. “Will Lowden be at this ball?” she whispered.

  “He was invited, but I don’t know if he has returned from New York yet or not. Will you help me?”

  She opened her eyes and pushed his hands away. “I’ll help you,” she told him, and turned her back to him. “I’ll help you. I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  Without another word, she opened the door and walked out of the bedroom. He did not stop her. She arrived at the marketplace and went directly to the onion seller’s stall, where she usually saw Worth waiting for her, but he was not there. It was long past dawn, and she knew he had probably given up on her and left the marketplace. She turned and began retracing her steps to the house.

  As she walked, she tried to think of a way out of the mess she was in, but she knew there really was no way out. Ethan had told her he would buy her indenture, but that would not save her from arrest if she did not do what Lowden wanted.