To Tame a Rogue

by Aston, Alexa

  “Was it worth it? Saying those forbidden words?” he asked.

  She beamed. “Every single time.”

  He roared with laughter. “You must have been quite a handful growing up.”

  “I was. My mother died when I was very young. Father was disappointed that I wasn’t a boy and had little to do with me. In fact, he tried to marry me off to Lord Willows.”

  “Wait. The ancient Lord Willows?”

  Gemma laughed. “The very one. I suppose he thought Willows could make me behave. Instead, I married Rob. At least that took me off Father’s hands.”

  “Is your father still alive?”

  “Oh, yes. He works in the War Office. I see him occasionally during the Season at a handful of events. Other than that, we don’t speak or visit one another. I moved in with Lord C once Rob and I wed and he became the father I never had.”

  “He recognized your true worth,” Burke said. “Your intelligence. Your indomitable spirit.”

  “Lord C said I was as a daughter to him. We grew quite close during our time together.”

  “He trusted you a great deal.”

  She nodded. “It was Lord C who established the relationship between Sir Paxton and me. I’m grateful for that. I feel I’m truly helping England in her efforts against Bonaparte by working to break the French codes.”

  “And trying to uncover a ring of traitors,” Burke added.

  Gemma frowned. “I don’t think I’ve been very helpful in that endeavor.”

  “You have,” he assured her. “You were the one who found Mrs. Crawford’s letters to Lord Hampton. It helped me learn about the secret meeting at her residence. By the way, Jones is watching the Crawford place every night in order to see if any new meetings occur.”

  “That’s good. I only wish we could find proof.”

  “Traitors cover their tracks well, Gemma. It’s only been a week since the Season began. We could be at this for months, trying to unravel who’s involved and even then, we may never learn the truth.”

  She looked disheartened and so he said, “Let’s clean your weapons and then teach you a little about defending yourself against a man’s unwanted attention.”

  She proved more adept at doing so than the first time and returned the pistols to her reticule. Burke couldn’t help but be proud of how rapidly she’d developed her skills. Gemma’s beauty was only surpassed by her intelligence.

  “All right,” she said, placing her reticule on the ground. “What do I need to know?”

  “You already know men are larger and stronger than women. Because of that, you have to know where they are most vulnerable and take advantage of that. Their eyes. Nose. Throat. Those are all places for you to attack.”

  Her nose crinkled. “Do I . . . use my fist?”

  “Your fist is no match for using your forehead and elbows. Your knees, as well. Those are hard places and can inflict much damage. Let me show you.”

  Burke stepped in front of her. “If you want to use your forehead, tighten your neck.”

  When she did so, he said, “Move in slow motion. Dip your head until it touches my nose.”

  She did so and he had her repeat the movement numerous times.

  “If you want to hurt a man, let your forehead crash into his nose as hard as you can. It will pain you a little but for him? You’ll probably break his nose. If he’s holding you, he’ll quickly release his hold to cradle his nose.”

  “You mentioned my elbow. Could I slam that into his nose?”

  “That would be very effective. Also, an elbow jammed into his throat, especially right at the Adam’s apple, hurts beyond measure.”

  They practiced that a bit, with Gemma swinging her elbow into him, stopping just short of doing any actual damage.

  “You said the eyes. I assume I’m to use my fingernails to claw at them.”

  “Clawing is good. Jabbing a stiff index finger is much better. If you’re close enough, jam your thumbs into his eyes.”

  She shuddered. “That might blind him.”

  Burke gave her a grim look. “Better to blind a man seeking to hurt you than be hurt yourself.”

  Gemma nodded. “I understand. What else?”

  “If you’re facing someone you think may attack you, your knee might very well be your best friend.” He clasped her elbows. “Bring it up slowly to my groin.”

  Her face flamed but she did as he asked. She repeated the motion several times.

  “Good. You’ll want to ram it as hard as you can. That move will incapacitate a man and he won’t be able to give chase.”

  “I’m to run?”

  “Yes. Inflict whatever damage you can and run the bloody hell away. Poke. Slam. Jam. And run.”

  Still holding her elbows, he said, “A swift kick in the shins is also effective. If you’re wearing boots, lead with your toe.”

  She tried it a few times.

  “If you’re in evening slippers, you could break your toe. Instead, kick out and try to land a blow with your heel.”

  She did so. “That’s awkward.”

  “It’s just a suggestion. Let’s try one more thing.”

  Quickly, Burke spun Gemma around, jerking her against him. His arm snaked around her waist, pinning her to him, while his hand covered her mouth. Immediately, she began struggling. He tightened his grip and she stilled.

  In her ear, he said, “I hope you’re never in this situation. If you are, panic is not your friend. Remember, a man is bigger and stronger than you are. Wriggling and straining won’t get you anywhere. If anything, it will anger him further.”

  She nodded. Burke inhaled the vanilla scent that she always wore, fighting the urge to kiss her neck while he restrained her. He couldn’t do it. She trusted him—and he wouldn’t take advantage of that trust.

  “If you can move your head, dip it slightly and then smash it as hard as you can against his face. Hopefully, it will damage his nose. If you can’t move your head, your feet should do the trick. Lift your foot and then slam it into the top of his foot, using your heel.”

  She did as he said, practicing the motion several times. He kept her tight against him, enjoying the feel of her.

  “You can also kick,” he instructed. “Use your heel again and let it crash into my shin. Shins are very vulnerable.”

  Gemma’s foot rose and then pain exploded in Burke’s leg. He released her immediately, hobbling around as she scurried away, putting distance between them.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized, her eyes filling with tears. “The way you were holding me, my heart started racing. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. I knew it was you, Burke, but I was still so scared.”

  He shook his leg. “That’s all right. Instinct took over. Fear causes a person to act courageously at times. Do whatever you must to escape, Gemma. If a threat is present, your body knows instinctively to get away. Sometimes, before your mind can even catch up. Use your teeth. Nails. Hands. Feet. Whatever it takes to free yourself.

  “And then run the bloody hell away.”

  She stepped to him and placed a hand upon his chest. “I am sorry I hurt you.”

  He saw the regret in her eyes and said, “You can make it up to me.”

  “How?” she asked innocently.

  Burke’s hands rose to cup her cheeks. “Like this.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Burke’s mouth touched Gemma’s and it was as if lightning struck her. Instinctively, she moved toward him, her hands going to his shoulders. The kiss started feather soft, with his lips brushing back and forth against hers languidly, making her crave more. She wanted to taste him and before he prompted her, she opened to him. He accepted her invitation, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth and stroking it lovingly.

  Fire sizzled through her at the contact and her fingers tightened. She now understood the power of his kiss, so unlike that of Lord Melton’s. It amazed her how what one man did disgusted her and yet the same action from another brought total bliss. Gemma
also knew how to kiss now, unlike that first time Burke had surprised her in Lord Hampton’s study.

  This time, she initiated all of the action. She stroked his hard, muscled chest. She pressed against him, teasing him with her breasts as much as she did her tongue. She’d taken command of the kiss and he let her, thrilling her when she heard the soft groans coming from him, realizing she affected him as much as he did her.

  Gemma broke the kiss and whispered, “Touch me.”

  She kissed him again along his jaw and moved to his throat, finding where his pulse beat rapidly. As she did, Burke’s hands palmed her breasts, squeezing and kneading them, causing her to moan. He bent, his tongue tracing the upper curve of one breast, causing her knees to go weak. Gemma locked them and wrapped her arms around his waist, determined not to slip to the ground.

  He pushed her gown down and fondled a breast after lifting it from her stays. He dragged his thumbnail across her nipple and she drew in a quick breath as he repeated the action. The throbbing between her legs pounded fiercely and she remembered what he’d done to her the last time. She could only pray he would touch her there again.

  She found herself being backed up until she landed against a broad oak. Burke captured her wrists and raised them above her head, keeping them prisoner with one hand as he continued to touch her breasts with the other. Then he lowered his mouth to one, sucking so hard that she felt the dampness spring between her legs. As he continued to suck, that tingling from before began, like a team of horses out of control. Gemma gasped as the wave crested and broke, spilling from her. Her hips gyrated and she pushed against him, riding out the storm of pure feeling.

  She opened her eyes to find a very satisfied smile on his face. He kissed her deeply until it felt as if he touched her soul. She moaned, overcome with emotion and a feeling she couldn’t put a name to. Gradually, he softened the kiss until he finally broke it. He released her wrists and righted her clothing.

  “You came for me,” he said roughly. “Without my even touching you.”

  She gave him a wry grin. “Well, you actually were touching me. Just not there. But yes, I felt the same as before. That wild, delicious surrender.”

  He grinned. “I like that. A wild, delicious surrender.”

  “I only wish I could do the same for you,” she added.

  “You can,” he assured her. “When the time is right.”

  “When will that be?” she asked, knowing she was pushing him.

  “You’ll know.”

  Gemma knew they hadn’t had relations yet, despite what they’d already done together. She’d heard enough gossip about it to understand that somehow their bodies would have to join. That was what having sex was.

  It could also result in a child.

  She trembled. “You’re right. I’m not ready yet.”

  Gemma actually was more than ready but her sense of loyalty to Rob still remained. She looked at Burke and realized she did love him. Loved him with a breadth and depth that carried across space and time.

  But had she forgiven him?

  And could he ever forgive himself?

  Until then, she didn’t know if it would ever be right between them, no matter how thrilling his touch was.

  He leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss, his hands resting on her waist, his thumbs moving restlessly up and down her ribs.

  Breaking the kiss, he said, “Jones will return soon.”

  The driver came down the lane five minutes later. Gemma was glad Jones hadn’t discovered them a few minutes earlier.

  They returned to London and Burke told her he would see her at teatime as he escorted her to the door.

  “Where are you going? To White’s?”

  “For a bit,” he replied. “Then I think it’s time I call upon Mrs. Crawford.”

  Gemma lowered her eyes and murmured goodbye as she entered her home.

  *

  Burke told Jones of Elise Martin’s last name and asked him to use his contacts to locate the woman. He’d do the same after he stopped at White’s briefly and then head to Mrs. Crawford’s house. He hadn’t decided how to approach the courtesan yet and needed time to reflect upon the best way to do so.

  Jones dropped Burke at the club after arranging to meet back at his townhouse at two to share any information obtained. Only a handful of members were present. Those that were had cups of tea or coffee before them as they browsed the newspapers.

  He spied Boling, a notorious gossip, and made his way in that direction, taking a seat and lifting a newspaper sitting on the table before him.

  “I haven’t spoken with you here in a few days, Nicholson,” Boling said, shoving his paper aside, eager to engage in conversation.

  Burke knew the man was always a font of knowledge and so he said, “Good to see you, Boling.”

  They chatted about inconsequential matters for a few minutes. Burke wanted to warm up the man in order to keep from arousing his suspicions.

  “Is that Lady Covington you’ve been keeping company with recently?” the viscount asked, giving Burke the lead-in he needed. “I’ve seen you dance with her a few times.”

  “Yes. Lady Covington is . . . interesting.” He gave Boling a sly smile and the man chuckled.

  “And very beautiful.”

  “She is but . . .” Burke hesitated a moment. “A trifle . . . oh, what is the word I’m looking for? Bland in the bedroom.”

  Though he hated painting Gemma in such a light, he needed information.

  “I sometimes have . . . unusual tastes, if you know what I mean,” he added.

  The other man grinned. “I certainly do. My mistress is a tiger in the bedroom. Sorry, but she’s taken.”

  Burke pondered a moment and then said, “Did I hear Melton recently released his mistress?”

  “Oh, yes,” Boling said, his eyes lighting up. “Gave her an emerald necklace and was done with her.”

  “Yes. That’s the one. Lord Hampton told me he’d been her protector before. From what Hampton said, Elise Martin is exactly what I’m looking for.” He thought a moment. “You wouldn’t know where to find her, would you?”

  Boling beamed. “Actually, I do.” He told Burke the square she lived on and said, “Will you be able to keep both women satisfied, Nicholson?”

  “It’s my life’s ambition to keep as many women as possible satisfied,” Burke said airily. “Along with myself.”

  The viscount slapped his knee. “You are a rogue. And your eyepatch makes you seem even more of a devil.”

  Burke quickly excused himself. The look in Boling’s eyes told him the viscount knew exactly where Burke now headed.

  He left White’s and hailed a hansom cab, arriving at Elise Martin’s twenty minutes later. He dismissed the cab, not knowing how long he would speak with her and knowing he could easily hail another one.

  Knocking on the door, a young footman answered instead of a butler. Burke could see packing crates in the foyer and a flurry of activity.

  He presented his card and said, “I have an urgent need to speak to Mrs. Martin.”

  “Uh . . . well . . . Mrs. Martin is busy. She’s leaving town.”

  “She’ll want to see me. I’m an old friend.”

  Burke eased past the insecure footman and said, “Go on. Give her my card.”

  He left and minutes later, a woman descended the staircase. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and had an average face but a spectacular figure. Frowning as she came toward him, he greeted her at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I don’t know you,” she said and began wringing her hands.

  “Could we speak privately for a moment, Mrs. Martin? It’s important.”

  Wariness filled her eyes. “I’m in the midst of packing. My mother is ill. I’m leaving London,” she said nervously.

  He took her arm and drew her to a corner of the foyer. “If that is the case, you’ll be needing money. I heard that you recently received an emerald necklace as a gift. If you are looking for someone
to purchase it and add to your funds, I’d be happy to oblige you.”

  “The necklace has already been sold,” she said curtly but she continued to wring her hands.

  “Is something wrong, Mrs. Martin?” Burke asked gently.

  “You must leave,” she said abruptly. “Now. They’re watching. They’ll see you.”

  “Who?” When she shook her head, he pressed, “Do you believe your life is in danger?”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she nodded.

  “I can protect you.”

  “I don’t need a protector,” she said angrily. “I just need to leave the city. I’m supposed to. If I don’t . . .” Her voice trailed off and he saw she trembled with fear.

  Burke took her elbow. “I am with the government. I can see you safely—”

  “That’s who—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “You’re one of them. Testing me. You can see. I wasn’t going to say anything.”

  “Mrs. Martin, I’m not here to hurt you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You would say that. Well, you see I can keep quiet. I’m doing as I should. I’ll be gone by tomorrow morning.”

  Burke released her elbow and removed his card. Giving it to her, he said, “If you feel threatened in any way, come to me. I will help you.”

  A bitter laugh erupted. She tore the card up and flung the pieces to the ground.

  “You may leave now, Mr. Nicholson. Or whomever you really are.”

  “I don’t think you’re safe, Mrs. Martin.”

  She looked him directly in the eye. “Don’t you think I know that?” she asked and fled back up the stairs.

  He let himself out and, with a practiced eye, looked to see if she was right and the house was being watched. If it were, it wasn’t by anyone on the street. It could be from any window across from the residence, though, and he’d never be able to tell. It troubled Burke to leave, knowing Elise Martin had information vital enough to force her from town. She’d never trust him, though, since she thought he was part of some conspiracy—one with ties to the government.