Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] (13 page)

She shivered. What a dangerous proposition, showing Grant everything. Oh, he meant her body and that didn’t frighten her. It was the things that lay beneath the surface. Things he seemed more than capable of revealing, despite their promises not to become emotionally entangled. Things that would certainly make him cringe away.

But touching him was too strong a desire to be denied.

“Upstairs,” she whispered, catching his hand.

“The servants?” he asked, even though he followed her to the door, waited for her to unlock it, allowed her to lead him up the stairway.

She smiled. “A spy must be able to trust her employees. And I trust mine implicitly.”

He didn’t question her again. In fact, she was surprised by his silence, his acquiescence, as she took him to her chamber. She had expected talking, demanding from him at every step of the way. Instead, once inside, he waited quietly for her to lock the door.

But the second she pulled the key from the lock, his attitude changed. His body hit hers, thrusting her against the door as his mouth came down. The key clattered onto the wooden floor as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and clung for dear life. His mouth did magical, wondrous things, his tongue drawing hers into an erotic dance, tasting her, tempting her.

And his hands, those big, masculine hands. They seemed to be everywhere, sliding to her hips where he pulled her close, up her sides where he made her shiver with anticipation, then to cup her breasts and strum his thumbs across her nipples until she gasped with sensation.

He stroked his hands back down the same line, cupping her backside and lifting her like she weighed nothing. Her legs came open and he stepped into the apex of her thighs, pressing his heat to her, rocking her against the door as he kissed her.

Emily clawed at his jacket, yanking at buttons, pulling at the shoulders, frustrated by her lack of mobility now that she was pinned, helpless, against the door. She had the jacket half off and Grant had begun to shove her skirts out of the way when he suddenly stopped.

He looked at her, dark eyes glazed with heat and potent desire. She was certain her expression was much the same.

“No.” He lowered her feet to the ground. “Not like this. Not this time.”

She shook her head, confused, driven to distraction by the thrumming need that coursed through her body, centered between her thighs.

“Grant!”

He caught her hand. “This time slow.”

Relief flowed through her as she stumbled forward toward her bed, stopping obediently when he did.

“There will be plenty of time for taking later.”

Emily thought she would drop to her knees from want at his words.
Taking
. The very notion sent a shiver down her spine. No one had “taken” anything from her in years. She never let them.

But she very much wanted to allow Grant that freedom. At the moment, she feared she would allow him almost anything.

Especially when his fingers came up to the pearl buttons he had already loosened once that afternoon. They fell away just as easily this time and he slipped his hands beneath the gown to caress her bare shoulders.

His gaze captured hers, the brown of his iris so dark it almost blended in with the pupil. Raw desire boiled in his expression and she couldn’t look away. When he lifted the fabric from her shoulders, she never broke the gaze. When her dress pooled at her feet and he sucked in a harsh breath, she never stopped staring into his eyes.

“I have a confession to make,” he whispered as he bent his head to press a hot kiss at the juncture where her shoulder and neck met.

“More confessions?” she gasped, clinging to his arms as he caught her chemise strap between his teeth and pulled if off her shoulder to droop at her elbow.

He nodded as he slipped his fingers into her hair and freed the pins from her style in a few gliding strokes. Blond curls bobbed around her shoulders, down her back, tangled around his hands, and covered her breasts. He brushed them aside and peeled the chemise away.

“One confession more,” he promised as he brought his mouth down and captured her bare nipple between his lips.

She arched up with a sharp cry as sensation raced through her. The things this man could do to her, the feelings he could evoke with a grazing touch, a firm one. She never imagined her body would crave those things so completely. So much that she was ready to beg.

Instead, she steadied herself by slipping her fingers into his crisp, short hair.

“What is your confession?”

“The first night we made love,” he whispered against her skin as he slipped the other chemise strap away and sent the delicate fabric to join her gown on the floor. “Before I knew the truth about your disguise, I thought of you. I pictured you while I touched that ‘other’ woman, even though I knew I shouldn’t.”

Emily shut her eyes and a low moan escaped her lips. He couldn’t have given her more pleasure. She felt his admission through more than just her aching body. It seemed to touch her very soul.

“And one final confession from me as well,” she murmured, dipping her head back as he pleasured her opposite breast. He lifted dark eyes to spear her with a stare. “I was jealous. Jealous of that woman, even though it was really me. I wanted you to know who you were touching. I nearly threw away my duty to tell you.”

He straightened to his full height and forced her to bend her head back to look at him. There was a gentleness in his eyes. A softness she hadn’t expected.

“I’m glad that woman was you,” he murmured before he lifted her onto her bed, resting her head on soft pillows.

Grant watched Emily as she settled back with a sigh, then looked up at him through hooded lids. By God, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered. And he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, or at least anything he could recall with the hot rush of blood pounding to his straining erection. Perhaps later he would think of something.

But he doubted it.

He reached out, tracing the back of his hand over the delicate arch of her collarbone, down between the valley of her breasts, lower to her quivering, flat stomach. His gaze skirted to the scar on her side and he winced. He could only imagine the pain she had endured.

And yet here she was, lying back on her bed, looking up at him with want. She showed no fear. No worry. She was bold and tempting and everything he’d ever wanted.

The flash of that thought clanged in his head. Everything he’d ever wanted, and everything he’d sworn to avoid. But he shoved the thought aside as he brought his lips down to her stomach.

She arched beneath his touch, clenching at the bedclothes much as she had the first time he’d made love to her. Only this time the room was bright with late-afternoon sunshine. There were no disguises between them or darkness to shield them. He could look to his heart’s content. Savor the way her mouth twisted when he darted his tongue into her belly button. The way her pale skin flushed when he slipped a hand between her thighs and parted them.

“Grant,” she gasped, her head coming up to look at what he was doing.

He smiled at her while he traced the outer folds of her sex with just the tip of his index finger. Her eyes widened and she stared, unblinking as he probed deeper, wetting his finger with her hot juices before he swirled it around the hooded pearl of pleasure hidden within.

She lifted her hips with a groan of encouragement and he repeated the process while she watched. Tracing, probing, circling. She grew hotter, wetter with the pleasurable torture. And he suffered the consequences, as well. Had he ever been so hard in his life?

Her gaze shifted at that moment, as if she read his mind, and fell on the outline of his cock beneath his trousers. She sat up slowly, her hair bouncing off her shoulders as she leaned forward to cup him.

“I never got to see you clearly that night either,” she whispered with a wicked glance.

He pushed from the bed and stripped his clothing in what must have been record time. When he was naked, he stood back, watching her eyes rove over him with sinful intent and loving every moment of that heated, unabashed scrutiny.

“My God,” she practically purred as she leaned closer, motioning him back to the bed. “You are beautiful.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he took a place beside her. “Men aren’t usually called beautiful.”

She shrugged. “Normally, they aren’t. But you are.”

To punctuate that statement, she repeated the action he had done to her. The back of her hand traced over his shoulders, over the peaks and valleys of his chest. The expanse of his stomach. And then she took him in hand, palming his cock with just the right balance of gentleness and strength.

His eyes fluttered shut and he let out a low growl as starbursts of lightning-hot pleasure exploded throughout his body. She inched lower, stroking him from base to head, then repeating the action until he couldn’t take much more.

But the torment was nothing to what he felt when her mouth came around him. His eyes flew open and he darted his wild gaze down to her. Her eyes were closed, her face enraptured as if she was savoring a sweet treat.

She moved her mouth up and down his shaft, stroking him with her hot tongue. His entire world became focused on her lips, her breath, the gentle graze of her teeth. He couldn’t survive the torment much longer and spending himself like this was not the way he intended to end this encounter.

He caught her elbows and hauled her up, thinking of anything he could to keep from spilling his seed across her bed before he even had a chance to fill her.

“Grant,” she murmured, but he silenced her by flipping her over on her back, covering her mouth with his.

He drowned in her kiss as he pushed her legs open wider, draped them over his elbows. She lifted her hips for him, unabashed in her silent demands for what she wanted. He obliged, positioning the head of his cock at her entrance and then he slid home in one smooth stroke.

He thrust inside, guided by her slick heat, gripped by her along every inch of the way. And encouraged by her harsh cry of pleasure. He gritted his teeth as he fought for control. It was a losing battle, but he needed to hold out a little while. He wanted to savor the feeling of being inside Emily. And
knowing
it was Emily this time, not just fantasizing.

She didn’t help by lifting her hips to perfectly stroke him on every thrust. She watched him with parted-lipped appraisal, then let her tongue dart out to whet her lips with pleasure as he increased the pace. It was torture, but he wanted to give her release before he took his own. He’d been obsessed with seeing it since their first night together. With wondering what she looked like at the moment of climax.

Reaching down, he slipped his fingers to the place where their bodies ground together. He nudged her curls aside and stroked and she shuddered. A deeper thrust and another stroke had her gasping, her back arching, her skin flushed and sparkling with exertion. And finally, with one last skilled touch, he took her over the edge.

Her thighs clamped tight around his waist, her legs shook, her body pulsated around him, milking him. But it was her face that made him lose control. The utter pleasure that made her already beautiful face even more irresistible.

He cried out as he felt his seed begin to move and reluctantly withdrew to spend himself. Then he flopped down on the bed beside her, wrapped her into his embrace, and held her as their breathing returned to normal.

G
rant lay on his side, half covered in Emily’s sheets. She was on her back, staring up at him as he traced the lines of her body with a fingertip.

The pleasures they shared had been shattering, powerful. But since they slowly detangled from their tight embrace and he covered them with her tousled bedclothes, she had scarcely spoken a word. Only watched him with a look of contentment softening her expression.

He had certainly found release. Pleasure so intense, so potent he’d almost let himself go inside of her. But they had already established they would be very careful to avoid a pregnancy. He would have to be more aware, more restrained, the next time.

He shuddered at the thought that there would
be
a next time. And a time after that. Emily was his, in every wicked way. At least until their partnership ended.

But for now he had to focus. At least for a little while.

He let his fingers skim over her arm. “We should discuss this case you uncovered.”

She smiled up at him, eyes dancing. “You do know what to say, my lord.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle and marveled at how good it was to laugh again. He hadn’t really allowed himself to feel so good for a year. Now it seemed natural.

“I would wager talking about cases is
exactly
what you like to hear,” he teased.

She shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll admit I love my work.”

His smile fell. She loved her work, even if it put her in danger.

Emily must have sensed the shift in his mood, because her tone became businesslike, efficient. “And you are correct. We must work quickly to uncover what purpose the imposter and his cohorts have in mind. We must determine how much danger the Prince is in.”

“If Cullen Leary is involved in this plot, I would say a great deal.” Grant pursed his lips as he stared down at her. His mind returned to the night Leary had chased her, and the thought of her in such danger turned his stomach. “I don’t like the idea of you being involved, especially since the man went after you once already.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I won’t have that discussion with you again.”

He let out his breath in a harsh sigh. “We need to have the discussion again, Emily.”

She shook her head. “
I
uncovered this case and I won’t be shut out. Not because of some misguided attempt to protect me. I get enough of those from my friends, I don’t need them from you.”

Grant’s mouth set in a thin line. The woman could be ridiculously stubborn. There would be no convincing her to back away to protect herself. He could only hope he would be able to keep her safe.

“Very well,” he ground out. “But we still need to determine our first step. The men who chased you that night at The Blue Pony, did you recognize any of them?”

She shook her head. “Only Leary. The man in the costume was too made up to determine if I knew him or not and the other was a stranger. No one I recognized from past cases or government watch lists.”

Grant stroked his chin as he considered that fact. “Napoleon is all but done for. I’d wager we’ll have him nicked before the spring, if it ever comes after this hellish winter. The plot
could
have to do with him, but you would think his spies would be more careful than to make up their false Prince in the middle of a lowly hell with a broken door.”

Emily nodded. “I agree. Someone professional would have been more discreet. It could be a personal vendetta. The Prince has made many enemies over the years. So this could be as treacherous as an assassination scheme…or as lowly as a plan to humiliate the Regent.”

“More than he does himself, already?” Grant chuckled.

A ghost of a smile tilted her lips. “Either way, we must be certain. I’ll have some research done on the Prince’s current whereabouts, his movements, and any plans or meetings he intends to take in the next few weeks. If they intend to attack him physically, that information will give us a map of our culprits’ movements as well.”

Grant sighed as he pulled away from her and set his bare feet on the floor. The afternoon was fading to evening and long shadows stretched across the room.

“Very good. While you pursue information about the Prince, I shall use my resources in the War Department to investigate Leary. He was involved in a case of mine a year ago.” He hesitated, waiting for the pain that always accompanied thoughts of that night. To his surprise, it was dulled for the first time. “We have a large collection of files concerning him and I can make inquiries without rousing suspicion.”

Emily sat up, pulling the sheets around her body as she watched him shrug into his wrinkled shirt and yank his trousers over his hips. The little smile that curled up one corner of her lips was enough to make him long to strip the clothing back off and rejoin her.

If her sultry look was any indication, she felt the same way. With a groan, he leaned down and threaded his fingers through her silky curls. Their lips met, and for the moment he forgot the case, the past, everything except desire.

“You know,” she whispered as they parted. “I won’t be able to start my research until tomorrow.”

He grinned as her fingers came up to his shirt. “And I can’t do anything with my files until tomorrow either.”

“Good,” Emily said as she tugged him and he sprawled back down on the bed across her body. “Then we still have tonight.”

“Do you trust me?”

Ana skidded to a sudden stop in her parlor doorway and stared at Emily. With a purse of her lips, she reached back and closed the door behind her. “Good afternoon to you, too,” she said as she crossed the room and gave Emily a brief hug. “I wasn’t certain I’d see you anytime soon after our unpleasant meeting yesterday.”

Emily shrugged, even as dark color flooded her cheeks. Yesterday. The things she had said. And after her friends left, the pleasurable things she had done.

“Emily?”

Shaking off the memories, she sat down. “Before we continue, I need you to know, I don’t begrudge you or Meredith your happiness.”

Ana’s face softened. “Of course you don’t. I never thought you did.”

Emily couldn’t deny the relief that flowed through her. These two women were her family. Having anger and misunderstanding hang over their friendship was like having a noose tightened about her neck.

She sighed. “I also know you did the things you did in order to protect me. But I must know the answer to my question. Do you trust me?”

Ana tilted her head and Emily could feel her trying to read her expression. Trying to surmise what this sudden appearance and interrogation was all about before she committed to an answer she might not like the consequences of. Finally, she sighed.

“You know I trust you, Emily. I have never
not
trusted you. Trust had nothing to do with our ruse.”

Emily pursed her lips. In her experience, trust was a factor in everything, but she didn’t want to argue. “I need to ask a favor of you that you might not like.”

Ana got to her feet and paced to the window. “Emily—”

“Hear me out,” Emily pleaded. After a short hesitation, Ana nodded slowly. “I need you to find all the information you can about the Prince Regent’s activities in the last few weeks and anything about his upcoming plans and movements. Public and private.”

Her friend’s mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. For a long moment, only silence hung between them.

“Oh, Emily,” Ana finally breathed. “What in the world are you involved in?”

Emily folded her arms. This was going to be much harder than she had anticipated. Already, guilt tore at her.

“I—I’m not ready to tell you yet.” When Ana opened her mouth to argue, Emily rushed to continue. “I will say that I informed Grant of the truth about our ‘assignments’ yesterday after you and Meredith left. And that he and I have uncovered a new case. But that’s as far as I’ll go, at least for the time being.”

Stepping forward, Ana held out her hands in mute request. “You cannot just say something like that, make a demand like that, and expect me to take your refusal to share more details as an answer. I need to know more before I commit to digging into the activities of the future king!”

Emily got to her feet. “You say you trust me. So behave as though you do. Behave as though I was never shot and that I was the same woman you knew six months ago. Would you do what I asked if I had requested it then?”

Her friend’s expression crumpled and Emily bit back a curse. She hated to torment Ana so. To test her loyalties. But there was no other choice. She couldn’t have Charlie and Lady M involved. Not yet.

“You ask the impossible.” Ana swiped at sudden tears. “I cannot forget that you were shot. Sometimes I wake covered in sweat because I dream about the night I found you bleeding. I dream the doctor couldn’t stop the blood. That you died. Sometimes when I look at you, I see a hollowness in your eyes, and it frightens me.”

Emily took a step back, surprised by her friend’s candor. She hadn’t realized Ana was still so shaken by the attack. As shaken as she sometimes found herself. Which was why she had to solve this case. It was the only way to conquer her demons.

“If you see hollowness in my eyes, it is because I long to work again, Ana.” She wrapped her arms around her friend and squeezed tight. “It’s because without my work, I am empty. I won’t ask anything else from you, I promise. Just give me the information I need.”

Ana stepped back. Stared at her for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Are you working with him?”

Emily hesitated. The “him” was obviously Grant. And there was no use lying. Especially when the truth might ease Ana’s conscience and open a door to what Emily wanted from her friend.

“Yes. I think we both deserve a chance to prove ourselves.”

One of her friend’s brows arched. “Do you trust him?”

Oh, the implications of that question. “I—I have faith in him to do his duty. He is a good spy.”

Again, Ana’s stare pierced through her. “Do you feel anything else for him?”

Emily stumbled backward, bumping against the chair she had vacated a few moments before. “Feel something for him? Of course not. Why would you ask me such a foolish thing?”

Ana shrugged. “There was something in the way you looked at each other yesterday afternoon. I thought perhaps you had developed some kind of deeper emotion for him.”

Emily shut her eyes as memories assailed her. Thoughts of Grant’s hands on her skin. His mouth on her. His body buried deep within her own. And their mutual vow not to let emotion cloud the affair they had begun. That was the way it had to be.

“No. There is nothing between us.”

Ana looked less than convinced, but she let out a low sigh. “Very well. I’ll make your inquiries about the Prince. I assume you don’t wish to do so yourself because you’ll rouse Charlie’s suspicions?”

Emily nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Ana.”

Her friend pursed her lips in displeasure. “It will take me a few days to gather the information you’re looking for. It’s of a sensitive nature and not easily obtained.”

“That’s fine. I’m hoping to have other leads to follow in the interim.” She moved toward the parlor door with a new sense of excitement. Exhilaration over her case.

And anticipation because she would be meeting Grant in a few hours.

“Please, be careful,” Ana said as she walked her to the front door. “Please.”

She glanced at her friend with a smile. “Of course I shall be careful. I always am.”

But as she strolled out to her waiting carriage, her smile fell. Ana had seen something flash between Grant and herself. And it would not do to make whatever feelings she had obvious.

It would not do to have feelings for the man at all. Because a man like him could never return them.

Grant strummed his fingers along the arm rest of the chair in Emily’s parlor as he awaited her arrival. His gaze shifted around the room, coming to rest on the settee where they had torn at each other’s clothing the day before. Of course, that turned his mind to her bedroom and the pleasures they shared long into the night there.

Shifting around a suddenly very uncomfortable erection, Grant drew in a few calming breaths. This sexual obsession with Emily had to cool at some point. He’d never retained much interest in any other women past a few encounters. Only Davina had held his attention for more than a few weeks. And he had to admit, even with her his awareness hadn’t been like this. This driving, pounding desire that haunted his every thought.

By now, Emily ought not to be bringing his blood to such a boil. The thought of her shouldn’t make his pulse pound. So why was she still in the front of his mind? All day. All night.

The door opened and she slipped inside. Her bright blue eyes lit up as they met his own, and he staggered to his feet.

That
was why she was still in the front of his mind.
That
was why he had been plagued by thoughts of her for the past twenty-four hours. Because when she looked at him, nothing else mattered.

She moved for him, but he met her halfway, though he didn’t quite recall the moment where he ordered his legs to move. Pulling her into his arms, he let his lips come down on hers. Her fingers wove into his hair and a little sigh escaped into his mouth. He drank in the kiss, marveling at the heated mingling of breath and furious tangle of their tongues. Like they were both scared of letting go. Like they feared it might be their last kiss.

Which was ridiculous, of course. They had vowed an affair for the duration of their investigation. The search for the truth had only just begun. And he was certain by the time it was over, his need for her would have faded.

It had to. They had already made vows to that end. Certainly, he couldn’t remain entangled with a spy who would never give up her duties. He couldn’t live with watching her go into danger and not be able to save her. Stop her. Protect her at all times.

Slowly, he pulled away, steadying her. They stared at each other for a long moment. Her eyes were glazed with need, wide with surprise that he knew was mirrored just as strongly in his own expression. The drive to touch each other was not something either one of them was accustomed to.