How had Emma managed to get under his skin like this? He hadn't
wanted it. Had fought against it. But there was something so
seductive about that strange little woman.
There was a quick knock on the door, then it was flung open. "Ah.
Here you are."
At the sound of that sweet voice he turned. And blinked. Emma was
wearing breeches that were too big for her, and ^n oversized tunic
that hung to her knees. That glorious tangle of red-brown hair had
been tucked beneath a battered cap, pulled down low over her ears.
On her feet were dung- spattered boots.
She stepped closer and gave him a bright smile. "What do you think?"
"I think you must have lost your mind. Where did you get those
clothes?"
"From young Innis." She kept her voice deliberately cheerful. "What
a lovely lad. I think he's sweet on my sister."
"I think so, too." Conor's eyes narrowed. "Why are you dressed like
that?"
"I thought this outfit would become my disguise."
"Your disguise?"
"Aye. Heaven's Avenger wore a monk's robes to hide his identity. I
thought this would become my special garb."
"Special garb for what?"
"For when I'm spying."
"Spying?" His frown grew.
"Aye. I've decided I like the life of a spy. It's probably that edge of
excitement. And you said yourself that I've become very good at it.
But I can't dress like a female. No one would take me seriously. So
this will be what I'll wear."
"And what is it you hope people will call you?" He looked pointedly
at her boots. "Avenging Dung perhaps?" His lips twitched with the
beginnings of a smile. "Spy of the Stables?"
She put her hands on her hips. "I can see you don't intend to take me
seriously. You'll not be so amused, I think, when you hear of the
brave spy who plies her trade throughout France, Spain, Italy."
"You plan to visit all those faraway lands, do you?"
"Aye. Now that I've had a taste of danger, and excitement, and world
travel, I must have more."
"And what of your father and sister? You've only just returned to
them. Don't you think you owe them some of your time?"
"It's a pity I'll be so far away from them. I'll miss them. But they've
already learned to get along without me. I'd only be in the way. So
I've decided to live my own life. My own way. For I've decided that
life is meant to be lived, not squandered."
"I see." He was beginning to see much more. Her smile was a little
too bright. And her voice a little too high. "Emma." He stepped
closer, and put a hand over hers. "Your hands are shaking. Not a good
thing for a spy."
She pulled away, held them up. "They're not shaking. Well, just a
little." She tucked them behind her.
"And you seem out of breath."
She turned away, to avoid his eyes. "Only because I've been running."
"Ah. Running. I see." He dropped a hand on her shoulder and felt her
trembling response. "I think, if you hope to become a really good spy,
you'll have to learn to control those reflexes."
"Aye. I'll...work on it."
He placed his other hand on her upper arm, and drew her back against
the length of him. Her breath came out in a long, shuddering breath as
he pressed his lips to her temple.
"And you'll have to do something about that heartbeat.' He wrapped
his arms around her, his hands resting just beneath the fullness of her
breasts. ' 'When it races like that, anyone can see that you're
unnerved."
"Aye. I am...just a bit."
He nibbled her ear and her pulse rate accelerated. "So am I. Just a bit.
Not a good thing for a spy. But most I acceptable for a mere man.
Really quite understandable, considering what I'm thinking of doing."
"What..." She could barely get the words out, over the wild beating of
her heart. "What are you thinking of doing?"
"This." His lips nuzzled her ear, his teeth nipping lightly at her lobe.
"For I have a terrible weakness for women in breeches and tunic." His
clever fingers began unbuttoning the tunic. As he slid it from her
shoulders he turned her into his arms and brought his mouth to hers.
"And I must do this." He kissed her long and slow and deep, until she
gave a little moan of desperation and had to clutch at him to keep
from sinking to her knees.
"Oh, Conor. Why didn't you come to my bed last night?"
"I couldn't bear to think it would be our last time together. And now,
of course, I can see that it was a wise move indeed," he muttered
against her lips, "seeing that you've decided to become a spy and go
off to all those far- flung countries."
"I suppose I could be persuaded to change my mind." Her fingers
curled into the front of his tunic. She could actually feel her toes
curling as well. "That is, if there were any good reason for me to
stay."
"You need reasons. Hmm." He slipped the cap from her head and
watched as a riot of rich auburn tangles fell to her waist. He couldn't
resist plunging his hands into them and drawing her head back so he
could kiss the smooth column of her throat. ' 'Would it be enough if I
asked you to stay?"
"Are you asking?"
"After a lifetime away, I've been thinking that I'd like to spend some
time here in Ballinarin." He brought his mouth upward to drop a kiss
to her nose. "Perhaps build a home in the high meadow." He brushed
his lips over her cheek. "Take a wife." Kissed the corner of her lips.
"Have a few children." He lifted his face and gave her a wicked grin.
' 'But I suppose, to a worldly spy like you, that sounds far too
mundane."
"Oh, Conor." She sighed and pressed his head down until his mouth
was on hers again. "It sounds like heaven."
"You wouldn't regret the loss of excitement?"
"My only regret," she whispered, "will be if you let me go."
He threw back his head and laughed in delight. "I had intended to. I
really thought I could. But you've just made me realize something.
How could I spend the rest of my life without you, Emma Vaughn?
Who would make me laugh? And who would ever love me like you?"
"No one." She blinked. "Do you mean it, Conor? Are you asking me
to stay?"
"Nay, Emma, I'm not asking." At her look of surprise he smiled. "I'm
begging you."
She let out a long, slow sigh of relief. "And you'll speak to my
father?"
"Aye." His smile faded as he lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss so
filled with need, it made her heart stutter. "I'll speak to your father. As
soon as I take care of a little business."
"Business?"
"Aye." He began unfastening the oversize breeches. "This business of
a disguise. It's all wrong for you, Emma. In fact, you'd look best if
you'd wear nothing at all."
"I think..." She was already kicking off the boots and stepping out of
the breeches. "...I quite agree." She reached for his tunic and nearly
tore it in her haste.
"You won't feel you've squandered your life here with me in
Ballinarin? There'll be little enough
excitement."
"You're all the excitement I ever want or need, Conor O'Neil."
His clothes joined hers at their feet. There were no more words
between them. Just soft sighs and whispered promises as they came
together in a storm of passion.
As Conor lost himself in her, he realized that what had once been but
a distant dream was now reality. He had truly come home. To Emma.
To Ballinarin. And here he would stay. With the only woman who
would ever own his heart.
Conor Page 30
