Far Too Tempted

by Emma Wildes

  “Feel free to practice now.”

  “I love you, Jess.”

  “That’s convenient, since I love you too.”

  He didn’t say anything. But she could swear his eyes were more luminous, and when he bent his head to kiss her, the intensity of it took her breath away.

  Epilogue

  The evening was crisp and cool, heavy with the smell of autumn. A few stray leaves played across the manicured expanse of the vast lawn, tumbling like playful young kittens before coming to rest at the edge of the curving drive.

  Whistling as he walked, Alexander Ramsey crossed the grass, heading for the stables, a feeling of anticipation curling in his stomach. The two new mares had arrived this morning, and according to the head groom, were settling in nicely. Together with the horses he’d purchased a month ago, his stable was coming along very well, and Marcus had been enthusiastic about acquiring a new stud they could share between their bloodstock.

  Breeding sleek racers was at least a bit more exciting than farming. He just wasn’t born to be farmer.

  Fresh with paint and repairs, hell, the stable looked prosperous, Alex thought in satisfaction as he unlatched the door and stepped inside. Cool stone rasped under his boots as he moved forward. The scent of hay filled the space and the darkness inside the barn was quiet and peaceful.

  “Good evening, Colonel.”

  Alex froze, his hand arrested in the act of shutting the door. For a heartbeat, he registered the sound of that dry, courteous voice before he pushed the door shut and turned slowly around. “Good evening, General.”

  Wright stepped out from the depths of the shadows. Somewhere a horse nickered and shifted in his stall. In the dim light, the man Alex remembered from London was more angular than ever, more enigmatic and distant. His teeth gleamed pale in a smile. “Fancy meeting me here, eh, Ramsey?”

  “Yes, sir. Fancy that.” Alex didn’t move, giving the other man a wary look.

  Now what the devil was the man doing at Braidwood, skulking around the stables?

  The general was dressed very plainly in unremarkable clothes: brown nondescript coat, dark breeches, a low hat pulled down on his forehead. He walked closer until he was a few feet away and chuckled. “So you’ve resigned your commission and become a country farmer, have you, Colonel? Fine horses, this lot.” One hand swept out to languidly wave at the neat stable and rows of stalls. “Not that I am any expert on the subject, but it all looks very businesslike.”

  “It is, sir. I plan to raise horses. Fine racing stock with any luck.”

  “Ah.” The general lifted his brows. “So I hear. Wellington wants you back, need I tell you that? He wants to hold Madrid and take Burgos. Then he’ll push on into France.”

  Instantly shaking his head, Alex said with firm conviction, “Without me. I’ve responsibilities here. My wife is expecting a child, and I’ve just started this horse-breeding business. If you were sent to persuade me, sir—”

  “No one sent me, Ramsey.”

  “Oh?” Alex let one brow wing up. Whatever was the old devil was up to anyway, coming all the way to Berkshire himself, slinking around the barn instead of coming up to the house?

  “Can’t think but this will all be a bit tame for you.” The general clucked his tongue against his teeth and glanced around. Standing there in the gloom he looked a little like a satyr, all sly smiles and cynical eyes. “Yes, very tame indeed. Tending to types of feed and split hooves and colic. No job for the man who brought down El Diablo.”

  Incredulously, Alex laughed. “Did you not read my report, sir?”

  “Oh yes, every page you submitted on the Committee murders. My superiors, well…can I say they were very impressed?”

  Straightening a fraction, Alex felt his mouth twist in a grimace. “Then they must not have paid attention. I endeavored to be as honest as possible, though I admit it was a bit humiliating to do so.”

  The general’s eyes glimmered. “How so?”

  Alex paced over to the closest stall and looked inside. It was easier to explain to the placid mare inside munching her hay. He said haltingly, “Sir, please do not play the fool; you do it so poorly. I am not even sure where to start with how badly I handled the whole affair. Maybe by pointing out a third murder took place even after I was assigned to the case? I could mention how I blundered about, having no suspects, until I actually approached the real murderer and asked his assistance. It only gets worse after that.”

  Steady and obviously amused, Wright leaned one shoulder against the door of an empty stall. “I’m aware of every detail, Ramsey.”

  “If that is so, then why the bloody devil would anyone be pleased?”

  The general seemed to casually examine the fingernails of one hand. “Shall I tell you how someone not so…let’s say, emotionally involved, sees this case? Don’t bother to answer, Ramsey, I intend to anyway.” He chuckled. “Let’s see. Well, to start with, there are no ironies in intelligence work. Learn that now and remember it. Tolley identified Eloise Rivers only because you had assigned him to follow Major Pickford. Secondly, O’Brien bears responsibility for letting down his guard with Rivers. He freely admits it and blames himself, not you. Tolley wasn’t seriously hurt, and danger is part of this business, the boy knows that. As for your wife’s kidnapping…well, I won’t lie to you, our families make us vulnerable, Ramsey. You’ll know better next time and take precautions.”

  Alex stiffened, his hand hard on the wooden door of the stall. “Next time? Sir, I’m a civilian now—”

  The interruption was smooth and relentless. “The bottom line is this ugly affair could not have ended better. The Committee is safe, the criminals who perpetrated the ghastly acts will not have to be brought forth publicly for a messy and potentially scandalous trial, and no one was killed except those who would have been executed anyway. And those papers retrieved from Jack’s desk, well, we’ve broken the code and they are pure gold, sir, pure gold. In short, well done, Colonel.”

  Somewhat at a loss, Alex said, “Thank you.”

  “All that being true, I wish to offer you a proposition.” The general lifted his bushy brows. “I want you to work for me. On…er…well, sticky little situations like the one you just handled. Not all the time, just as they come up. You should have plenty of time for mundane estate affairs and the coming child. You can have a more supervisory role, if you wish.”

  The covert meeting, the smell of fresh straw, the older man dressed incongruously in his rough clothes, all of it seemed an odd mix of fantasy and reality. Alex cleared his throat. Wright, as ever, looked impassive, except for the potent energy of his gaze.

  The wily old fox.

  The bastard was right. How could he know the fear lingered somewhere deep inside that breeding horses would not be enough? He adored Jessica, was pleased over impending fatherhood, and at least the horses would give him something to do, but…Alex had been a soldier, and, he thought, a good one. A sense of adventure, of challenge, was in his blood, deep in his bones. And now he was being offered the opportunity to still serve his country. He was also being offered the flexibility to spend time with Jessica and Braidwood. It was, well, perfect.

  Damn.

  He smiled noncommittally. “Sounds interesting, sir.”

  “Excellent, excellent.” Wright nodded, a mere dip of his head. “I’ll be in touch if anything…er…interesting comes up. In the meanwhile, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a nasty bit of trouble up north.” He rubbed his hands together and smiled in obvious anticipation. Then he melted back into the shadows. A minute later Alex heard the soft sound of hoof beats.

  * * * *

  Alex was at the stables, Higgins had said so. Jessica hurried forward, holding up her skirts as she ran, breathless from her exertions. She wasn’t being the least ladylike, but then again, she wasn’t the least sorry either.

  At the wide doors, she paused a moment and smoothed her hair. Once before, she recalled in a sudden rush of nostalgic memory, she’d
run to the stables to find Alex. At the time he’d been her shining hero, a handsome golden god who slew dragons and rescued fair maidens. She’d been a naïve, lovesick little fool, she remembered ruefully, and her idealistic romantic dreams had been shattered because Alex had turned out, after all, to be just an ordinary man with typical human failings.

  Once again, she was a lovesick fool, only this time it was because he was an ordinary man. A husband, a lover and soon to be a father. She’d seen him infuriated, exhausted, tender and a myriad of other things in between. And that awful day down at the docks in Bristol, she’d seen him terrified. Terrified of losing her. Offering his own life in exchange for hers. What man, ordinary or hero, could do more than that?

  Smiling, she pushed open the door. “Alex?”

  “Over here, Jess.” He stood by one of the stalls, a thoughtful expression on his face. At the sound of his name he’d turned, his expression switching to surprise as she ran forward and flung herself into his arms. “Is everything all right?”

  She looked up into his eyes, slipping her arms around his neck. “Yes, yes, it’s fine. I came out to tell you it’s almost time for dinner to be served. Higgins would have sent one of the footmen, but I wanted to see the new mares.” She laughed. “And then I started thinking how glad I am that you aren’t St. George.”

  “I beg your pardon?” His brows drew together in a puzzled frown.

  “Nothing. Just kiss me.”

  His eyes, so blue, narrowed slightly. “You’re in an odd mood this evening, Mrs. Ramsey. Maybe it’s because you’re breeding?”

  Her pregnancy had produced a myriad of emotional up and downs, but she reveled in it. There was nothing more wonderful than the idea of having his child.

  Jessica lifted her mouth suggestively. “Never mind my mood, just kiss me.”

  He laughed. “The lady is impatient. I like that. It’ll be my pleasure.”

  His mouth was warm and firm and infinitely arousing. Jessica melted into the kiss, her body molding to his, her fingers in the softness of his hair. They were both breathless when he lifted his head. She whispered, “My pleasure, as well. I love you, Alex.”

  His fingers trailed across her cheek and his voice was husky. “I think I am possibly the luckiest man on earth. Speaking of pleasure…” Jessica let out a small gasp as she suddenly found herself swept off her feet. His expression was dark and a little dangerous, his hair rakishly disheveled. He carried her with long strides toward the back of the barn into the shadows, and a moment later Jessica found herself lying on a mound of soft, fragrant hay.

  Laughing, she demanded, “What are you doing?”

  “We’re quite alone.”

  “Alex,” she said in outraged reproof, but the teasing light in his eyes held her prisoner.

  “Haven’t you ever made love in a barn, Jess?”

  There was a strand of hay tickling her ear, and she brushed it away. “No, of course not, you of all people know that. I’ve only made love with you. Alex, really…I…”

  His smile was devastatingly tender and darkly sensual at the same time. A promise of the moment, a promise of the future. “Then I think it’s high time you did, my love. You are going to enjoy this.”

  Though she would never admit it and fuel his arrogance, she found out he was absolutely right.

  In languid aftermath, she had to admit he was simply far too tempting to resist.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Emma Wildes

  Emma Wildes has over sixty books in print; has received starred reviews from Publisher’s Weekly; an Eppie award for best erotic historical; was named one of the stars in historical fiction by Booklist in 2012; and has been twice nominated for a Reviewer’s Pick of the Year by RT Magazine.

  She likes to write sexy stories with edgy heroes and strong heroines, and loves to hear from readers. Please visit her at: www.emmawildes.com

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