by Lenora Bell
He stroked her lower lip with his thumb.
“Drew.” She clasped his hands. “They’re lighting the lamps.”
The money. The name of Rafe’s fiancée. The reason they were here.
“Devil take it, Mina,” he said. “We have to hurry.”
Chapter 18
Mina tugged her cloak over her eyes, covering her hair, her gown. Everyone’s eyes were on the glittering lamps, the magical effect of so many lights bursting to life nearly simultaneously.
“I shouldn’t be allowing you to do this,” Drew said as they approached the back of the round orchestra building.
There was a sheltered grove of trees not far from the building. That would be where the extortionist waited.
“You’re not allowing me to do anything, Drew,” she insisted. “We came to the decision together, remember? We agreed that I’m the logical choice to hand over the coins since no one will see me as a threat and everything will be swift and easy. He said to come alone. If he thinks that you’ve alerted the watch or brought your guard, he’ll run and we won’t have the name.”
“I changed my mind. This is too perilous for you. I will make the exchange.”
“You’ll follow him out, remember? Observe his actions. See if he talks to anyone, which direction he heads. Or did you want to trade roles?”
Drew kept shaking his head back and forth, his brow creased. “This isn’t right.”
“Stop worrying, please. You’ll be watching. If anything goes wrong, you can rescue me. Not that I’ll require rescuing. And please don’t reveal yourself unless you absolutely must.”
“You’ll stay behind that tree until I return,” he said, pointing out a large oak tree nearby.
She liked it when he used that rough and caring tone like granulated honey.
“I promise, Drew. I’ll be waiting for you to return.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“I know it’s difficult for you to relinquish control, to trust someone.” She brushed her fingers over his collar. “But we have an alliance now. We work as a partnership. I seek freedom from my uncle’s control, you want to protect Beatrice, and we both need to find Lord Rafe.”
His chest rose and fell with his breathing. “If you change your mind, Mina, all you have to do is signal me and I’ll come forward.”
“I’ll whistle, would that be a good signal?”
“Yes. Whistle and I’ll come running.”
“Don’t come running, that will startle him. Walk slowly and steadily toward us, talking all the while.”
“Very well. I feel better about this plan.”
“Don’t worry. Everything will go smoothly.” He handed her the heavy bag of coins and took his place behind the tree. She moved into the circular grove of trees. It was quite dark here.
Several people moved nearby, couples walking arm in arm. She hovered in the shadows, the bag of coins in one hand and her pistol, only loosely covered by the velvet of her reticule, in the other.
A tall man garbed all in gray approached. A shiver passed over her.
“ ’e sent a girl?” the man asked with clear disbelief.
“What’s your name, sir?” she asked bravely.
“D’you think I’ll tell you that, girl?” She couldn’t see his face clearly, but she judged him to be about thirty years of age and accustomed to hard labor. His face was weathered and his nose reddened from drink.
“No, but it can’t hurt to ask.”
“I could just grab that sack of coins and be gone.”
“You could, but I’d shoot you in the back of your knee as you ran.” She revealed the nose of her pistol. “I assure you that I know how to use this.” Her hand was trembling so badly that the pistol visibly shook.
Fear closed her throat. She hadn’t expected to be so afraid.
She’d been training for this, planning for it and now, faced with walking into a truly dangerous situation, everything seized up inside her and she could barely breathe. It was because she knew too much.
She knew about the agents who had died in the field. Died for their king and country.
“You’ll shoot me in the middle of Vauxhall?” the man scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
Control yourself. Project strength and confidence. “I’ll maim you and then I’ll take back the coins and melt into the shadows, leaving you lying on the ground bleeding. No one would suspect a young lady of being the one with the pistol. Now, do you have the information, or don’t you?”
He spat on the ground. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll hand over the coins?”
She held up the bag of coins in one hand and her pistol in the other. She shook the bag and the coins clinked together.
His eyes narrowed with greed.
She avoided glancing in Drew’s direction, but knowing that he was there gave her strength. “You give me the name and I’ll give you the coins.”
“I have my orders. I’m to hand over the note at the same time you hand me the coins.”
“Orders from whom?”
“D’you think I would tell you that?”
“All right. On my count, then. And don’t think I can’t shoot you in the time it takes me to read the note. One. Two.”
She held out the coins. He raised a scrap of paper.
“Three.”
They made the exchange.
She glanced at the paper. Olivia Lachance, proprietress of the Princess Eve.
The man backed away, eyeing her reticule, then briskly walked away.
Drew moved after him stealthily, keeping to the trees.
Mina collapsed against a tree trunk, letting out a ragged breath.
Until now, her dabbling in espionage had all been conducted at a distance, from the safety of Uncle Malcolm’s guarded stronghold and training grounds.
Solving puzzles, finding the codes within the ciphers, recognizing patterns, piecing together information, experimenting with weaponry, all worthy pursuits and all . . . safe.
Very, very safe.
She couldn’t be afraid. A spy knew no fear.
Some of the dedicated spies her uncle handled had been indoctrinated from a young age at a secret spy boarding school. The Duke of Ravenwood had attended the school. She’d heard it said that he entered school a normal, healthy boy, teasing and laughing and charming, despite the recent death of his father, and that he’d become a hardened man, tough and ruthless, without a conscience or a soul.
She’d seen her mother through ten-year-old eyes. To Mina she’d been a laughing, vibrant vision of loveliness sweeping into her life and then twirling back out again. But she knew that her mother and father had been spies in wartime. She’d read her diary.
Her mother had killed an enemy during the war. It had been kill or be killed.
Could Mina become that person? And if she couldn’t become tough and hard, then who would she become? The thought sent panic spiraling through her mind. She’d been so focused on one idea: becoming a spy like her mother.
The tree branches above her swayed in a sudden wind like grasping fingers.
She couldn’t be afraid. She simply couldn’t. If she were scared of danger, then the entire premise of her future would collapse as easily as a stack of cards.
Her reticule fell to the ground. She leaned her head back against the tree trunk. The air was cool but there wasn’t enough of it in her lungs and her cheeks felt hot.
She undid the buttons of her pelisse. Where was Drew? Why hadn’t he come back yet?
A fresh surge of fear swamped her mind until Drew entered the grove of trees.
She’d never been so happy to see someone in her life. He was tall and strong. Her accomplice. She didn’t have to do this alone.
“Drew,” she said, and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re here.”
“Where else would I be?”
She buried her face in his coat, trying to calm her breathing. She couldn’t admit her fears to him.
“Mina, are you all right?” He
lifted her chin. “Are you hurt?”
“No, no,” she said. “Only a little bit shaken.”
“You were so brave. I can’t believe you did that.”
“Where did he go?”
“He didn’t talk to anyone. Left by the main gate and boarded an ordinary ferry. No one joined him. I think he was alone.”
“He’s not the extortionist, only a hireling. And a rough one, at that. I could smell the ill will on him. He would have harmed me if he could. The man who hired him isn’t evil.”
“And yet he hired evil to deliver his message.”
She handed him the paper.
“Olivia Lachance, of the Princess Eve,” he read. “A business establishment? We have a name and that’s what matters. I’ll soon discover where to find this Lachance woman.”
Another piece of the puzzle. “Mina.” He caught her eye. “You were wonderful. The way you threatened him with that pistol. You controlled him.”
“Did you doubt me?”
“I doubted myself for putting you in danger. If anything had happened . . .”
“But you trusted me.”
“I trusted us, but accidents happen. Mina, if anything had happened.” He framed her face with his hands. “I would never have forgiven myself.”
“Seems to me there are lots of things you’ve never forgiven yourself for, and this will be one of them.”
“Putting you in danger.”
“No, not that.” She smiled. “You’ll never forgive yourself for kissing me again.”
He groaned. Pressed his forehead to hers. “Mina.” He couldn’t stop saying her name. He loved the way it sounded. Mina.
So close to mine.
He made the decision from some other part of his brain. Or maybe it wasn’t his brain. Maybe it was his body that made the decision, because she looked at him and said he was about to kiss her.
She’d read his mind.
He drew her deeper into the shadows. Pressed her up against a tree. Covered her with his body.
He wanted to show her what she was up against. A tree. His body.
She made him so aware of how short life could be. How alive he felt when she was in his arms.
He kissed her commandingly, one hand in her hair and one hand braced against the tree bark.
She kissed him back, moaning softly, a sound deep in her throat. She tilted her head and he kissed the column of her neck, her throat, her lips again.
Her tongue like warm, wet silk, her taste somewhere between Heaven and Hell, prayer and curse.
One of his hands closed around her generous bottom, the other held her head so that his tongue could do as it wished.
When he was kissing her, his mind dimmed like the sun fading behind a cliff.
“Drew,” she sighed against his lips, and it was the most soul-stirring, arousing sound he’d ever heard.
He knew he should stop, but what stopped was the rest of the world, unspinning, slowing, and finally grinding to a halt until the only motion was the two of them kissing, exploring.
Sap running through his veins.
He was a tree and she was ivy twining around him, climbing him. He was rooted and firm, his body one with the earth, his heart in the clouds.
“You want danger. You want excitement and adventure,” he whispered. “I’ll be your adventure. Explore me, Mina.”
Mina ran her hands over the angles of his face, the rough stubble defining his jaw, the roped muscles of his neck. He was a safe harbor and a perilous path.
She’d wanted to make him lose control enough to kiss her again, and she’d won.
She wanted to keep winning, over and over again.
His tongue inside her mouth—another victory.
Strong hands gripping her bottom, clasping her against the evidence of his arousal—give her a gold medal.
She’d imagined kissing a handsome gentleman at Vauxhall Gardens. There hadn’t been any of this rawness, a sensation as though she’d been rubbed with sandpaper and her nerves, her emotions, exposed.
Kissing him right here in the park, with people promenading so nearby and the threat of discovery ever present.
It was the sweetest, wildest thing she’d ever done, and she wanted more.
More of his lips, firm yet supple. More of his tongue, teasing and skillful.
More of his body, hard and huge.
Her back against the ridges of the tree. A knot in the tree, a gnarl pressing into her lower back, releasing the coiled tension there.
There was so much mystery to him. He wouldn’t open up to her with words and so she’d force his body to tell her things. She’d force his hands to speak all of the things she wanted to know.
There was a story behind the pain in his eyes. Strength in his arms.
Urgency and longing in his kiss.
Would she be able to unlock this guarded fortress of a man? She might find a way to open him, just a little at first, and she might find a way to make him admit that he needed her.
“Mina,” he groaned. “I’ve been dying to kiss you again.”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Give me more.”
She wanted him never to stop, and at the same time she wanted to end this because it was too much, it felt too good, and her desire almost frightened her.
She wasn’t scared of anything. She was bold, brave Mina. Newly wild and newly free.
She knew what he looked like under these respectable clothes, the powerful chest, narrow hips, and strong thighs.
She’d watched him pleasure himself. She’d wanted him to touch her, to awaken her senses to passionate awareness.
The time for new sensations, new discoveries had arrived.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
“Where?” he asked, his breathing labored. “Tell me where.”
“Where you touched me before.”
“Your breasts?” he asked.
“Yes.” She arched her back, thrusting her bosom into prominence.
“Yes, please,” he growled.
“Yes.” She felt wicked. Bad. Up against a tree, begging for him to touch her. Panting. “Please.”
He pulled her bodice and chemise down, exposing her breasts to the night air and to his eyes.
“So lovely.” He cupped her with both of his hands, his thumbs grazing her nipples, and she nearly fainted from the pleasure of it.
He lowered his head and took her nipples into his mouth, teasing them to aching awareness with his tongue.
Every other reason for being in London coalesced into this one purpose: prolong this sensation.
Find an antidote to the restlessness coursing through her body.
His thigh was lodged between her legs. Tentatively, she rubbed against him, welcoming the friction. Tender and swollen. Her lips . . . the peaks of her breasts . . . the sensitive place between her thighs.
Her heart.
Waiting made everything sweeter. Everything worth having was worth waiting for. But now was not the time for discretion or denial.
“Don’t stop kissing me. Don’t stop,” she commanded, fully aware that she was begging and not at all concerned about it. He made her wanton and she was going to dive in and not worry about whether she would ever resurface.
He caught her wrists with one of his large hands and moved them over her head, trapping her against the tree trunk. She thrust her hips forward to feel him, to connect with him.
“Mina.” He kissed her neck, murmuring in her ear. “You smell like roses. You’re so sweet. I want to eat you up.” He nibbled at her earlobe and she shivered.
He pushed her hair away from her neck and bit her, softly, gently.
She bent her neck to the side inviting his lips and his teeth to claim her.
It felt heavenly. She moaned. Low and throaty. “Devour me.”
Soft nips with his teeth along her neck and his body, long and hard, covering her, pressing her back against the tree.
Night air against her cheeks. Breeze playing over her
nipples.
Wanting building inside her, a desire to find fulfillment, an ending to the chapter.
Fireworks lighting her chest, blossoming in her mind. Popping overhead in bursts of red, green, and gold.
There was such a newness inside her. Such a sense of limitless possibilities.
“Mina. Fireworks.”
“I feel them, too,” she said.
“Over our heads.”
She glanced up. “How long have we been here?”
He dropped her arms. Backed away.
They exchanged a tense glance.
“We have to go back. Your mother.”
“My sister.”
She lifted her bodice. He adjusted his trousers.
“I’ll just be . . . a moment,” he said, breathing heavily. He rested his back against the tree.
They stood side by side.
“We can’t keep doing this, Mina.”
“I know.”
He touched her cheek. “No, really. This is wrong. Our every encounter veers into forbidden territory. We have to stop.”
“You’re right.”
But she didn’t want to stop. She would have laid down on the grass right here in Vauxhall Gardens with him and been truly bad.
Truly wanton.
He had this powerful hold over her. She must fight against it.
“It won’t happen again,” she promised.
“It can’t.”
Fireworks sprayed stars over their heads. The smell of smoke filled the air.
Children shouted and people clapped.
She refastened some of her hairpins. A soft, restless feeling pulsed between her thighs.
“Are you ready, Mina?”
So ready. Make me explode.
They walked back through the dark grove and onto the lighted path.
Tonight she’d been seduced.
More than the kiss, even, it was the hungry way he’d stared at her while she drank the wine. The way he’d jumped down from the carriage and claimed the privilege of handing her down.
The look in his eyes when he’d praised her bravery. Grinding her grand resolutions to powder.
He cares. No, he doesn’t care. They had a shared goal, that was all.
She cared. No, she would never be so foolish as to fall for a man who stood in opposition to all of her dreams. She would never lose her heart so easily.