Seducing the Ruthless Rogue (53 page)

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Authors: Tammy Jo Burns

Tags: #Historical Regency Romance, #Scottish Historical Romance, #Historical Spy Romance

BOOK: Seducing the Ruthless Rogue
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Mack tore his mouth from hers.
 
“I can’t take anymore, it’s been too bloody long since I’ve touched you.”
 
He stood and the water glistened like diamonds on his skin.
 
He caught Cassie’s hand as she reached for his member with a gleam of excitement in her eye.
 
“Not now.
 
I don’t know that I can even make it to the bed.
 
If you touch me again, it’ll be over.”

She slowly rose to her feet, all the while lifting the shift over her head as well.
 
She released it, and it fluttered to the floor.
 
“I’m yours, Mack.”

“Aye, you are.”
 
He lifted the bucket of water and dumped it over him, rinsing away all the suds before stepping out of the bath.
 
He swung her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
 
Their bed.
 
The bed where their future children would be conceived and born.
 
The bed where he would love her until they drew their last breath.
 
Mack swallowed convulsively, working past the knot that had formed in his throat.
 
What is the matter with you?
he asked himself.
 
You’re not an emotional man
.
 
You’ve never been in love before, either
, he answered himself.
 
He laid Cassie on the bed before joining her.
 
“Cassie, I meant what I said.
 
I don’t think I can wait.”

“Then don’t, because I can’t either.”

She spread her thighs and he held her hips as she took his length in her hands and fitted him to her.
 
This was not a scientific experiment in regards to the process of intercourse.
 
This was not just the seeking of pleasure.
 
This was two people sharing their emotions and bringing one another fulfillment.
 
When he was fully embedded within her, he looked at her beautiful blue eyes. They shimmered with tears.

“What’s this?” he asked, letting go of her hips and leaning over her to swipe the tears away.

“Mack, I can’t do this without telling you.
 
I thought I could, but I can’t.
 
I know that you probably don’t want to hear it, but I can’t help how I feel.”

“Well?” he prompted, expecting to hear her say she was a French or American spy.
 
That she had found a way into his life to steal his secrets as he had always feared would happen with any woman.
 
Which is why he did not get involved with women and why he had few male friends.
 
He could not trust anyone, not even his own bloody wife.
 
He felt his desire dying.

“Mack, I love you.
 
I know you hate emotions, and I know that you don’t love me, and I will live with that.
 
I just couldn’t do this, couldn’t
make love
to you again without you knowing.”

“You love me?”

“More than I ever thought possible.
 
I love everything about you, from your stubborn Scottish attitude—”

“Even though it’s fake?” he asked teasingly, feeling himself swell back to life within the tight confines of her body.
 
This beautiful, voluptuous woman loved him, ‘The Scottish Bastard’.

“Yes, my faux Scotsman, I love you.
 
I love the way you hum when you are studying something.”

“You like that?”

“You have no idea.
 
If I had not been recovering from a migraine…”

“You know it won’t be easy being married to ‘The Scottish Bastard’.”

“Yes, but I imagine I will manage.
 
Mack, I love you so much.”

“I have a confession as well.”

“Yes?” she asked warily, afraid of what he was going to say.

“I’ve loved you since you broke into my house and tossed me head over arse. When I pulled off that scarf and your blonde hair tumbled down about your shoulders and you acted as if you wanted to unman me,
 
I knew that I had to have you one way or another.”
 
He bent down and kissed her passionately, showing her just how much he loved her.

Cassie lifted her hips against his and moaned.
 
Mack linked their hands together beside her head.
 
He retreated and thrust only a half dozen times before they both reached the most explosive release of their lives.
 
Cassie felt his very essence explode within her, filling her completely.
 
Mack collapsed beside her and pulled her into his arms.

They lay replete in one another’s arms, clutching one another, until a chill invaded the room.
 
Somehow, using only their feet and hands, they managed to pull the covers up cocooning themselves from the world.
 
As the storm rolled in, bringing with it thunder and lighting, for the first time since her mother’s death, Cassie slept the night through, safe in her husband’s arms.
 
That is except when he would rouse her just enough to once again show her how much he loved her.

***

Cassie stretched the next morning, having been woken by the delightful humming of her husband.
 
She found herself delightfully sore from their night of lovemaking.
 
Lovemaking
, she thought, a smile stretching across her face.
 
She rolled over to find the bed empty.
 
She sat up, pulling the sheet with her, looking across the room to find Mack.

“Good morning, my beauty,” Mack gave her a lopsided grin.

“Good morning,” she replied, lifting her lips to receive his kiss.
 
“You shaved.
 
Where are you going?”

“Work.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight o’clock.”

Cassie attempted to hide the panic that washed over her.
 
She had an hour to dress and get to the Tower.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said.
 
“Just a little sad that reality has already intruded into our lives.”

“Aye, but one thing will not change.”

“And that is?”

“That I love you.
 
Cassie, I never thought it possible to fall in love, to trust another like I trust you.
 
Not after being raised by Laird McKenzie.
 
Then you came barreling into my life.
 
Now, I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I love you, Mack.”
 
He kissed her once more, leaving her breathless.

“I’ll be home as soon as possible.”

“Good.”
 
Cassie remained relaxed on the bed, watching him leave the room.
 
As soon as the door shut, she shot off the bed and rushed across the room.
 
She tore open Mack’s dresser and pulled out a pair of his Cossack pants.
 
She wiggled into them and tied the drawstring.
 
If she ended up having to fight, she could do it much better in pants.
 
Cassie then rushed into her room and found the easiest dress to slip into without assistance.
 
She pulled on a pair of slippers.
 
Then she picked up a handful of hairpins and stuffed them between her lips.

Cassie retraced her steps, twisting her blonde hair into a knot and ruthlessly jabbed pins into the coiffure, securing it.
 
Those pins she didn’t use, she removed from her lips and dropped on the top of her desk.
 
She found herself digging through Mack’s drawers once more looking for anything that might help her cause.
 
Cassie found a knife and scabbard tucked beneath a stack of his unmentionables and lifted her skirt, securing it to her thigh.
 
She retrieved several cravats and knotted them together.

She walked to the full glass doors that looked out over the small balcony enclosed by wrought iron railings that were waist high.
 
The wind whipped at her hair, trying to rip it free as she crouched low.
 
The storm last night had abated, but only for the time being.
 
The clouds looked low and heavy as if they would drop buckets of rain at any moment.
 
She tied the cravat tightly along the bottom of the railing, knotting it several times.
 
Cassie threw her leg over the rail until she stood on the outside of it, and carefully lowered herself until she had a firm grip on the makeshift rope.
 
She quickly lowered herself, landing between the hedge and the house.
 
Looking around, she made certain no one was anywhere about before darting down the street.

***

The meeting had just gotten underway when there was a disturbance in the outer office.

“I must speak to Director McKenzie
now
!”

“I’m sorry, Miss…”

“Presley.
 
Penelope Presley.”

“Miss Presley, he is currently in a meeting.”

“You don’t understand.
 
This is about his wife and it is a matter of
life or death
!”

Suddenly the inner door flew open and Mack stood in the doorway.
 
“Come in, Miss Presley.”

“Director McKenzie, your wife is in danger,” she said, but paused when she saw the men sitting around the large table that sat across from his desk, a giant map spread across the top.

“Go on, Miss Presley.”

“Director McKenzie, my sister is…is un…unstable,” she tripped over the words.

“Preston, get Miss Presley something to drink,” Mack ordered.

“Right away, sir.”

“Now, you were saying you believe your sister is unstable.”

“I found this,” she thrust a leather-bound book towards him.

“And this is?” he asked, taking the book from her.

“Her diary.
 
She blames your wife for everything that has befallen us.
 
She cannot see how our father was responsible.
 
Whitney, that is my sister, believes she should take everything that matters from your wife.”

“Sir Graham…”

“Yes.
 
She admits in her diary that she killed him.
 
But she doesn’t stop there.
 
She sees your marriage as something she will never be able to have now that word is getting out about what father did.
 
It is bad enough that he committed suicide, but that he…”

“I understand.
 
And when I was nearly trampled by that carriage?”

“Yes,” the young woman whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.
 

“What is she planning?” Mack encouraged the young woman.
 
Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that all the men at the table were also listening closely to every word the young woman said.

“She wanted to kill you, to make her suffer, but she has written that you are too difficult to get near.
 
You are constantly surrounded by important people, so she has decided to remove the one person she feels responsible for everything.”

“Cassie.”

“Yes.
 
She mentions something about adding another animal to the number.
 
She also writes your wife will ‘soar above London’.
 
I just can’t figure out what she is talking about.”

“When was the last time you saw your sister?”

“Yesterday morning.
 
She never came home last night.”

“Gentlemen,” Mack said, looking at the group.

“Director McKenzie, I’m so very sorry,” Penelope Presley said, fighting tears.
 
“I’ll be praying for your wife.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m coming with you,” Gabriel said, as did several of the other men.
 

Mack nodded his head and left the office.
 
He raced down the stairs with Gabe fast on his heels.
 
Other booted feet clomped behind them.
 
Both men went to the mews and readied their respective horses.
 

“It’s a good thing I talked you into going to Tattersalls that day.
 
Imagine how slow a hack would be,” Gabe shouted over the wind, trying to lighten the mood.

Mack glared at his brother over their horses.

“Right, poor taste.
 
Just trying to keep you calm.”

“I’ll calm down when I have Cassie in my arms again.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.
 
Perhaps I should stop by the house.”
 
At that moment, Mack heard the clopping of horse’s hooves approaching at a dangerous speed.

“McKenzie,” Bartlett called racing towards them.

“What is it, man?”

“Mrs. McKenzie has escaped, and we found this.
 
Chilton said it arrived yesterday.”
 
He passed the note to Mack.
 
“It was attached to a box containing a dead rat.”

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