Authors: Kat Martin
Reese stroked and caressed her, kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. She hardly noticed when he lifted her up and carried her the few feet to the bed. Settling her there on the mattress, he suckled her breasts, laved and tasted until she was squirming.
Deep drugging kisses followed as he came up over her, and Elizabeth returned each one. She wanted this, wanted to become his wife in every way.
One of his hands found her breast while the other slid lower, back to the nub that had given her pleasure before. She could feel the heavy weight of him settling on top of her, pressing her down as he covered her with his tall, powerful body. She could feel the thickness of his shaft as he spread her legs and positioned himself between them, prepared himself to take her.
Her breathing quickened, but the pleasure began to fade. Images of Edmund filled her mind and icy dread washed over her.
It’s Reese, it’s Reese
, she tried to tell herself, but all
she could see was Edmund holding her down, suffocating her with his thick body, forcing her to take him inside her.
A scream rose in her throat. She choked back a sob and bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. She tasted the coppery flavor of blood and her eyes filled with tears.
He eased her legs even farther apart and she felt his hardness beginning to push inside her. A scream rent the air, then another. The heavy weight jerked off her and Reese recoiled in horror.
“Elizabeth! For God’s sake!”
She bit down on her lip to stifle another cry, trembling all over, fighting to pull herself together.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry.”
The past continued to fade and reality returned as Reese left the bed and strode naked over to the window. Outside the storm had finally reached the house and a flash of lightning reflected the sheen of perspiration glistening on his broad back and narrow buttocks.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I wanted…I wanted this so much. I tried to warn you. I was afraid this would happen.”
And then the sobs began, deep racking sobs she couldn’t seem to stop. She felt the mattress dip with Reese’s weight, then he was gathering her up, pulling her across his body, wrapping his arms around her.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said, his hand stroking over her hair. It tumbled around her face and stuck to the wide, damp chest that pillowed her cheek. “This is his fault, not yours.”
But the sobbing didn’t stop and all the while Reese held her. She had failed him. Failed herself. And she was certain that she had lost him.
She wasn’t sure how long they lay together. Long enough that her crying ceased and a strange lethargy filled her. With it came a restless stirring. As she lay across his tall, solid body, her arms around his neck, her nipples pressed into lean bands of muscle, his hand ran gently up and down her back, soothing her, and a coil of heat began to unfurl in the pit of her stomach.
She could smell the salty tang of his skin, the warmth of his body under hers. Her gaze fixed on the heavy rod lying against his flat belly, unsatisfied as he had been all week. He was big and hard, ready to give her the pleasure he had promised.
If only she were brave enough.
Her body stirred. Desire slithered though her. Her breasts ached. The place between her legs throbbed with need. She wanted to taste him, to know the smooth feel of his skin. Pressing her lips there, she curled her tongue around a flat copper nipple, suckled gently, and heard him groan.
“Beth…please, love…I can’t…I don’t want to hurt you.”
Moisture slid through her, settled in her core. She lifted her head to look at him. “I want this, Reese. I need you. I don’t know what to do. Help me…please.”
His eyes found hers, fierce and burning. For an instant, he didn’t say a word and she could read his indecision. Then he was lifting her up and setting her astride him. Reaching behind her neck, he dragged her mouth down to his for a long, burning kiss.
Lightning flashed outside the window and thunder rumbled, shaking the house. Elizabeth battled the storm raging inside her.
“You decide, Beth. Take what you want. Find your pleasure. You decide when you’re ready.”
She could feel his thick shaft beneath her, straining upward, rising toward the place between her legs. As she looked into his handsome face, she saw Reese, not Edmund. Reese, the man she had loved.
The man she loved still.
She blocked the words, concentrated on the need scorching through her. “Show me,” she said softly. “Help me, Reese.”
His mouth found hers one last time. His hands cupped her breasts, caressed and teased until she was squirming. Then he lifted her, slid her down his hardened length.
Dear God, it felt so good. So good.
“Tell me what to do,” she whispered, afraid to move, uncertain how to proceed.
Big hands wrapped around her waist and he lifted her a little, let her sink down, then lifted her again, showing her the movements that would give her the ease she so desperately needed.
“That’s right,” he said roughly as Elizabeth began to understand, began to feel the pleasure. “Take me inside you, Beth. All of me. Let me give you what you need.”
She sank down again, driving him deeper, feeling the hot rush of sensation. She cried out as his hard length stretched and filled her, coaxing her body to accept his heavy size and length. For an instant, Reese stilled, worried he had frightened her again.
“Don’t stop,” Elizabeth begged. “Oh, God, Reese, please don’t stop.”
A groan tore from his throat and then he was moving,
holding her in place for his deep, penetrating thrusts, stoking the fires in her body, drowning her in pleasure.
“More,” she pleaded, her head falling back as he drove into her, carried her higher. “Oh, God, please, Reese.”
“Let yourself go, Beth. You’re mine now. Do it for me.”
And she did, her slick passage tightening around him as pleasure flooded through her, her mind spinning away. In an instant, she broke free, shattering into a million pieces, soaring to a place she had never been before.
Reese thrust deeply again and again, and once more the pleasure filled her, swept her away. Reese soon followed, a growl low in his throat, his muscles clenching, his seed spilling hotly inside her.
Elizabeth slumped onto his chest, every part of her alive with sensation. She had never guessed, never imagined what it could be like.
She clung to Reese and started to sob again. But this time she wept tears of joy.
F
ollowing a fair-haired young lieutenant, Reese walked down the hall toward the chambers occupied by Colonel Malcolm Thomas of the Foreign Office.
“If you will just have a seat, my lord,” said the lieutenant, the colonel’s aide. “I’m sure he’ll be right with you.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Reese sat down in a straight-backed wooden chair in front of the colonel’s desk, making a cursory surveillance of the office. Spartan, immaculately clean. Nothing that spoke of family. The colonel would be all business, and not prone to emotion.
Colonel Thomas walked into the room a few minutes later, average height, ruddy-complexioned with medium brown hair. Nothing extraordinary about him. Except for the sheer determination that glinted in his steely dark eyes.
Thomas wouldn’t be an easy opponent.
Greetings were exchanged. Both men took their seats.
“You wished to see me on behalf of your friend, Travis Greer,” the colonel began.
“Captain Travis Greer, yes.”
“Captain Travis Aleksei Markolov Greer, should you wish to make a point of it.”
Reese took a breath. He could see this wasn’t going to be easy. “It is well known that Captain Greer’s mother was a Russian ballerina. He speaks the language, which made him useful while he was stationed in the Crimea.”
“That was certainly the army’s intention in sending him there.”
“The man risked his life to save mine, Colonel. That is how he lost his arm. Captain Greer is a patriot, sir, not a spy.”
“I can understand why you might feel that way. You owe the man a considerable debt. However, certain information has come into our possession that is extremely condemning.”
Reese shifted in his seat. “You’re talking about Captain Greer’s journal. Undoubtedly, you’re aware that the captain was eventually hoping to become a journalist. He kept his memoirs in order to document his experiences during the war. In fact, he is presently employed by the
London Times
to do just that.”
“As I am well aware. Unfortunately, the journal he kept goes far beyond a memoir. The book contains information on British troop movements, meetings with top-ranking officials, and even campaign strategies. Dates and times are listed—all information of infinite value to the Russians.”
“The thing is, sir. He didn’t give the journal to the Russians. As you said, you have it in your possession.”
“That is true enough. And it would, perhaps, be a credible explanation—if not for the trip the captain made across enemy lines.”
Reese’s insides tightened. He fought not to show his surprise—or the subtle anger that Travis had not told him.
“I can see by the set of your jaw that you were unaware of this, Major.”
“I presume you have some sort of proof.”
The older man nodded. “During the investigation, a sergeant in the captain’s regiment mentioned the night he left camp. Greer said he wanted to visit a relative who lived near the village. Under questioning, several other men confirmed the story.”
“What did the captain have to say in his defense?”
“We are still collecting data. Currently he is under house arrest, as I’m certain you know.”
“There’s an explanation, Colonel. Captain Greer is as loyal a soldier as I’ve ever known. I need to speak to him, find out what happened that night.”
The colonel made a faint nod of his head. “You may ask him whatever you wish. Our investigation will continue. We are building a case against the captain and I warn you, Major, once we have the evidence we need, we shall not hesitate to prosecute to the fullest measure.”
Reese left the office feeling a mixture of anger and dread. He headed straight for Travis’s Brook Street town house. Trav had lied to him—a lie of omission at the very least.
As the carriage rolled up in front of the house, Reese caught sight of the watchdog standing guard beneath the street lamp. Undoubtedly another man kept an eye on the rear of the building. Reese made his way up the walk and pounded on the door, and only seconds later, Travis pulled it open. His sandy brown hair was disheveled as
if he had been running his hands through it and the eyes peering out through his spectacles were bloodshot and grim.
“You look like hell,” Reese said, pushing past him into the entry. “What’d you do, climb into a brandy bottle last night?”
Travis sighed. “I drank more than I should have. I’m about to tear down the walls being trapped inside for so long.”
“Yes, well, you may find yourself trapped inside a far worse place than this—that is if you don’t hang.”
Travis straightened. “You spoke to Colonel Thomas?”
“That’s right. I just left his office.”
Travis tipped his head toward the drawing room where they could speak in private and both men walked in that direction.
Travis slid closed the doors. “What happened?”
“To begin with, you might want to tell me why you didn’t mention the not-so-insignificant fact that you left camp without permission. That while you were absent without leave, you crossed into enemy territory.”
Travis deflated like a punctured balloon. He sank down on the sofa. “I should have known they would find out.”
Reese sat down across from him. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Trav shoved his gold-rimmed spectacles up on his nose. “I went to see my aunt—my mother’s sister. I’d never met her, but I knew where she lived. It wasn’t that far away. I figured I could make it there and be back before morning. I don’t have any family left, just my aunt and a couple of distant cousins. I had to go. I couldn’t resist.”
Reese shook his head. It was a really stupid thing to do, but over there, loneliness preyed on a soldier’s mind and the notion of family that close…
“How did they find out?” Travis asked.
“They questioned men in your regiment. You must have told some of them what you were going to do.” The incident had happened nearly a year ago, before the battle at Balaklava and the fighting that had taken Trav’s arm.
He released a slow breath. “They were men I knew pretty well. I told them I wanted to see my aunt and I needed their help to get away. It was kind of a lark to them at the time, and they understood why I wanted to go. Or at least I thought they did.”
“It’s damning, Trav, I can tell you. Colonel Thomas isn’t going to stop until he has enough evidence to convict you.”
Travis shot up from the sofa. “He’ll never have enough evidence. I didn’t help the Russians in any way. I’m not a spy, Major. I swear it.”
Reese rose, too. “I believe you. The trick is to find a way to make Colonel Thomas believe you.”
“What should I do?”
Reese glanced round the town house, inhaling the scent of stale pipe tobacco. Trav was not a man to be kept indoors.
“Sit tight a little longer. I’m on my way to see my brother. He knows everyone in this damnable town. I’m hoping he’ll be able to use his connections to find out why Thomas is so determined to prove you guilty.”
The look of misery on Travis’s face was enough to speed Reese’s departure.
“I appreciate it,” was all Trav said.
From Brook Street, Reese headed to his brother’s town house, only a few blocks away.
The day was cloudy, but not too cold as Reese rapped on the door. “Good afternoon, Rutgers,” he said to the longtime family butler, who stepped back so that he could make his way inside.
“Good afternoon, my lord.”
“I assume my brother is here. He should be expecting me.”
The aging, silver-haired man gave a faint nod of his head. “Yes, sir. His Grace is in the study. He said to send you in as soon as you arrived.”
Reese started past him. “No need to show me the way.” He knew the house, had stayed there with his father and brothers when he was a boy. Heading down the hall, he rapped on the study door, turned the knob and pushed it open.
With his dark blond hair and golden brown eyes, Royal sat behind his big desk like a tall golden lion. His best friend, Sheridan Knowles, Viscount Wellesley, sat across from him.
“I didn’t realize you had company,” Reese said.
“Sherry’s not company,” Royal said. “He’s part of the furniture.”
Sheridan laughed, a slender, elegant man whose wit and charm made him popular with the ladies and a welcome addition to any society function. Now that Reese thought about it, Sherry’s help might prove extremely useful.
“If you’d like to speak privately…” Sherry said, beginning to rise from his chair.
“Actually, I’d appreciate your input on this. Perhaps you might be able to help.”
Sherry sat back down and Reese took a seat, as well.
“How’s married life?” Royal asked.
Reese thought of the hours he had spent in Elizabeth’s bed last night, thought of her terrible fear and the way she had so bravely conquered those fears. He thought of her passionate responses, and heat slid into his groin. “A helluva lot better today than it was last week.”
Royal laughed. He knew the terms of Reese’s marriage. Clearly, he was glad things were progressing in a more normal manner.
“No problems with the Holloways?” Royal asked. “No more trouble for Elizabeth or Jared?”
“None so far, but Mason and Frances are now in the city. I don’t believe in coincidence. They’re here for a reason and whatever it is, it isn’t good.”
Royal frowned. “You’ve got Morgan helping, right?”
“His men are guarding the house. Elizabeth and the boy don’t go anywhere without them. I still don’t like it.”
“Then you’ll be glad to know the solicitor, Mr. Pinkard, was here. He asked for a letter expressing my support of Jared’s adoption. I’m sending it over this afternoon.”
“Thank you.”
“You really think that will help?”
“It removes the boy from their control. Elizabeth will no longer be in danger, since harming her would gain them nothing, but I’m not sure it will protect the boy.”
“You believe they might actually try to kill him?” Sherry asked.
“Elizabeth doesn’t think so. But the Aldridge title and incredible wealth is at stake. Greed drives people to do all sorts of things.”
“As Lily and I know only too well,” Royal said. Greed
had cost their father most of the family fortune. It had nearly cost Royal and Lily their lives.
“I appreciate your help with Jared,” Reese said. “Unfortunately, there is something else I need from you.”
Royal sat forward in his chair. “You know I’ll do whatever I can.”
“A friend of mine is in trouble. I believe you may remember him, Captain Travis Greer?” For the next half hour, Reese filled Royal and Sherry in on the unofficial charges being made against Travis and the evidence being assembled against him. Both men knew him fairly well, since he had accompanied Reese several times when he had been on leave in London.
“Trav isn’t a spy,” Reese said. “I’d stake my life on it.” He explained how the man had lost his arm hauling Reese to safety during the battle at Balaklava. “He fought like a tiger. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. Trav did a couple of stupid things and now he’s paying for it. What I need to know is why the authorities are so determined he has done treason.”
Reese glanced from Royal to Sherry. “Both of you move easily in society. I’m hoping you might be able to pick up some sort of information that might be useful.”
Sherry cast a look at Royal. “We need more ears than just ours. Why don’t we send word to The Oarsmen?”
Royal grinned. “I haven’t seen those fellows in far too long. Let’s call a meeting at the club. With all of us working, we ought to be able to figure out what’s going on.”
Reese sat back in his chair, relieved at the first ray of hope he had felt since he had left the colonel’s office. He was no longer in this alone. With all of them working together, maybe they could find a way to clear Travis’s name.
Elizabeth was shaking. She held Jared tightly in her arms, her cheek pressed to his to convince herself he was safe.
“I am sorry, milady. It won’t happen again, I promise ye.”
“I’m all right, Mama,” Jared said, pulling back a little as her gaze went to the stocky guard standing a few feet away in the entry. “We were only just playing. The man didn’t hurt me.”
“What’s happened?” Reese stormed into the house like a man on fire. “The guards are prowling the fields and the grooms are in a tither. What the hell is going on?”
Elizabeth swallowed. She didn’t approve of Reese’s occasional bad language, but he was, after all, a military man and clearly he was upset. “A man tried to kidnap Jared.”
Reese’s gaze swung toward to the boy. “He isn’t hurt? Jared’s all right?”
“He is fine. I’m the one who is upset.”
Jared squirmed to be free and Elizabeth reluctantly set him on his feet, forcing herself not to reach out and grab onto his hand.
“Tell me what happened,” Reese demanded. She could almost feel the anger pumping through him, his concern.
“Charlie and Jared were playing outside and—”
“Charlie? Who the devil is Charlie?”
“He is Mr. and Mrs. Brody’s son—the couple who live in the gatekeeper’s cottage. They’re in charge of outside maintenance.”
“All right, go on.”
“Charlie’s father made him a little toy sailboat and the boys went down to the pond to try it out on the water.”
“And…?” Reese prodded.
“And a man came out of the bushes and tried to carry Jared off with him. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Gillespie, he might well have succeeded.”
Reese turned his hard gaze on the security man who worked inside with Montague. “Your job is to prevent this kind of thing. Dammit—how did the fellow get so close to the house?”
“The pond sits at the edge of the forest, milord. I shouldn’t have let the boys go down there in the first place, but things have been so quiet and they really wanted to sail their boat. It won’t happen again.”
“You can bloody well count on that.” Jack Montague strode into the entry, a big, barrel-chested man with thinning dark brown hair. “You’re fired, Gillespie.”
Gillespie blanched. He was shorter than Reese or Montague, but powerfully built and, up until now, seemed competent in the extreme.
“I put you in charge of protecting the boy,” Montague went on. “That is what you should have done. Now get out.”