The Thespian Spy: The Seductive Spy Series: Book One

by Cheri Champagne

  Something felt different within her. Her body veritably vibrated with joy in the aftermath of her night with Gabriel. He’d described the ways that he’d imagined having her, and they’d certainly explored some last night.

  Her stomach quivered and her heart leapt at the memory as she quickly dried her hair with a towel then left it loose to dry further. She packed the dress of last evening and selected a front-fastening cerulean blue travelling frock with petticoats and stockings and put them on.

  Gabriel had been nigh insatiable in their lovemaking. He’d given particular attention to every part of her body, kissing nearly every bit of skin. She’d attempted to do the same with him, but as most of his torso was covered in bandages, she’d settled for what was left exposed. He was truly marvellous.

  Removing her brush and hairpins from her trunk, she sat at the aging dressing table and brushed the tangles from her hair. Within moments, she had a serviceable knot at the base of her neck, secured in place with several hairpins. She pulled a silver chain with a single sapphire pendant and she put it around her neck. It was simple and understated and she adored it. In fact, it was her favourite piece of jewellery, which was why she so seldom wore it.

  With one final gaze in the mirror, she glanced at the door. Where is Gabe? He’d been gone for far longer than she would have imagined if he was merely acquiring a meal and a means for travel. Could something have gone awry?

  Worry began to buzz in her stomach and she wrung her hands. “Where are you, Gabe?” she whispered.

  * * *

  “Likey tol’ ye,” the innkeeper said, “I cn git ol’ Richie t’drive ‘e an missus a’ Lonnon ore ye takkey coach.”

  Gabe carefully disguised his disgust as the innkeeper spat on the coarse wooden floor of the taproom.

  Gabe said in his practiced English accent, “My wife does not care for the stage or mail coaches. I would prefer to hire Richie to drive a hackney.”

  The large, aging innkeeper affected a sigh, his nauseatingly odorous breath wafting around Gabe and hovering there. “I cn see if’n Richie’ll go. But it’ll cost-ye.”

  Gabe nodded once as the lumbering oaf left.

  A stagecoach or the mail coach would be far easier for Gabe to control himself within, as they would have an audience. But they were also far more dangerous to their identities and their safe escape. So a hackney it would be. Alone. In a hack. For a minimum of ten hours…with a very tempting Mary.

  Gabe cursed under his breath. It would be more challenging than ever before; now that he had experienced Mary in his bed, he knew what he was missing if he did not take her again. And damn it, she was too alluring by half. He knew he could not resist. He had already told himself last evening that he mustn’t continue on with Mary, that because of his feelings for her he must once more abandon their relationship.

  But he couldn’t… He had sated his initial lust for her and then could not resist but take his time with her. Not once, but twice more he tasted, nipped, and kissed every inch of her before sinking himself deep inside her heat over and over…

  Bloody hell. He was indeed in serious trouble.

  “Richie’ll takkey. It’ll costey fi quid.”

  Gabe’s eyebrows slid skyward. “Five quid? Good God, man, I am not purchasing a carriage from you.”

  The bloated man picked something out of what few teeth he had remaining in his mouth with a thick, dirty finger.

  Gabe sighed and pulled his purse out. He had no time to quibble over prices. He had already delayed returning to Mary long enough.

  “Direct the maid with the food tray to our room. When we have concluded our meal, I will bring our things down. Have Richie and the equipage ready in the innyard, if you will.” He handed five one-pound bank notes to the greedy innkeeper, then turned toward the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  He entered their room and closed the door swiftly behind himself.

  “Gabe! Goodness, where have you been?” Her spine was stiff and her voice soft.

  “Were ye worried, then, Mary?”

  “Yes!” She spread her hands at her sides and sighed exasperatedly.

  Despite himself, his heart warmed at her concern. He strode forward and clasped her shoulders in his hands. “No need te fret.”

  She sighed again, and for the briefest of moments, he could have sworn that her chin quivered. Entirely helpless to stop himself, he opened his arms to her.

  “There, now, leannan,” he muttered.

  She curled herself into the circle of his arms. His lips pulled back in a hiss as he clenched his jaw. His wounds had not been so painful last evening, but, he supposed his exertions might have reopened the wounds at his chest; his thoughts had been so muddled, he hadn’t bloody well checked.

  Pushing past the pain, he squeezed his arms a little tighter around Mary.

  He pressed his mouth to the top of her head and inhaled her scent. Mmm… Wildflowers? She had changed her scent! Why would she do such a thing?

  Although…

  He took another deep inhalation. He rather liked it.

  Blast. He really liked it, if his body’s reaction to her said anything.

  A light knock sounded at the door and Mary sprang away from him.

  Irritated at the interruption, Gabe answered the door.

  Chapter 32

  Gabe turned from the door with a tray of food in his hands and a smile on his lips.

  “Tha’ was a maid. Are ye hungry?”

  At the sight of the tray, Mary realized just how ravenous she was. She had not eaten since yesterday’s luncheon.

  The loud rumble of Mary’s stomach filled the room, and Gabe grinned, the motion pulling at the scabs forming on his lips. Mary sheepishly placed her hands over her middle and Gabe laughed.

  “I will take your stomach’s word for it,” he said, winking an amused blue eye at her.

  He brought the tray to the bed.

  “Shall we use our imaginations?” he asked. “It will be an alfresco meal, but inside and atop a dishevelled coverlet.”

  Something about his willingness to try for humour brought a pleasing warmth to her chest.

  She clambered onto the bed.

  “I sent the curricle away this morning with an elderly man from Brighton.”

  The bed dipped with his weight as he sat atop it, the tarnished silver platter placed strategically between them.

  Mary settled her skirts around her ankles and gazed eagerly at the array of cheeses, meats, breads, and fruits. The scent alone was enough to have her salivating uncontrollably.

  “This man knows not to give your direction?” she asked.

  He motioned for her to eat and she reached enthusiastically for a piece of cheese and bread and took a bite of both. Oh heavens! What deliciously fresh bread.

  “As a matter of fact…” Gabe selected a handful of berries and began popping them in his mouth. “I spoke at great length about my plans to ride west. I knew better than to trust him to keep information to himself, so I gave him incorrect information in the hopes that Lady Kerr, her brutes, and the other traitors will believe him.”

  Mary ate a succulent slice of roasted ham, then followed that with a plump grape.

  Gabe cleared his throat. “I must apologize to ye, Mary.” His blue gaze rose to meet hers. “I didnae believe ye when ye suggested Lady Kerr as a possible suspect. I shouldae trusted yer instincts and watched her fer suspicious activity as well. I apologize fer nae listening. I was verra, grievously wrong.”

  Mary’s chest swelled with gratitude. “Thank you, Gabe.”

  She unfolded a napkin and laid it on the mussed counterpane.

  “I hate to cut our ‘alfresco’ meal short, but we must go.” Gabe dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “It will take us at least ten hours te reach London from here and it is already half of nine. We must report t’ Hydra and find a way te disappear until the ball, else our identities may be compromised.”

  Mary placed several chunks of cheese, two rol
ls, and slices of meat into the napkin and folded it up.

  “Excellent thought.” He filled his own napkin and tucked it into his pocket. “Shall we go?”

  “No.”

  “No?” He imitated her accent.

  “No,” she said. “I wish to have a look at your wounds to ensure they are sufficiently clean and bind them once more before we leave.”

  “Ach, Mary, donnae fash yerself. They are nae as deep as they appeared.”

  “I will not have you get infection while in my care, Gabriel Ashley.”

  He sighed. “Verra well.”

  He quickly rose and removed his clothes down to his breeches, stockings, and boots. Mary watched in awe and, she was slightly ashamed to say, with rapidly growing desire. His body was rippled and sculpted, hard and sleek.

  There is no time, Mary dear. Keep your lustful thoughts buried deep until you have more time.

  She doctored him in as detached a manner as she could manage, but for the odd hiss of breath at a particularly bad amount of bruising.

  “How does it feel?” she asked as she finished cleaning the last of his wounds with a wet cloth.

  “Fine.” The deep cadence of his voice sent a quiver through her.

  Detached, Mary. Do not allow his stunningly beautiful male body distract you from your purpose. Escape the traitors and return to London.

  Mary finished binding his body with torn strips of clean linen she requested of the innkeep.

  “That will do nicely.” She turned her gaze up to his face and was arrested by the sight.

  His no-longer-swollen but scabbed and badly bruised face was dark with the heat of desire. She had seen that expression on his face in the evening yesterday and twice through the night. He wanted her.

  Her body heated in response to his lust, a quivering anticipation bubbling through her, spreading its way through her body until it settled at the heart of her feminine place. Her breasts grew heavy within the confines of her dress.

  Mary licked her suddenly dry lips and his gaze dropped to watch.

  His muscles twitched as he moved to take her in his arms, but another knock at the door halted him.

  Gabe cursed soundly as he began dressing himself.

  Placing a hand over her thundering heart, Mary moved to stand behind the door. “Yes?” She called.

  “It’s Richie, missus. Me master said t’ tell ye when we was done hookin’ up the hack n’ t’ see if’n ye were ready t’ go.”

  She turned to glance back at Gabe, who stood already nearly fully dressed, then turned to call through the door, “Thank you, Richie. We will be down directly.”

  She listened for Richie’s retreating footsteps then moved to retrieve her trunks.

  Gabe left his cravat untied and ran his fingers through his hair before placing a dark hat atop his head. “Are ye ready?”

  * * *

  The dim rays of sun shone through the hackney’s window, lending a soft glow to the dingy interior. The sounds of the horses’ hooves thundered along the narrow, wet road and the ill-sprung wheels jostled the hack’s inhabitants. Rain pounded the roof as they drove, echoing the deafening din of Gabe’s hammering heart.

  An involuntary groan escaped him for the hundredth time. Why? What the devil had possessed him to sit beside Mary when a perfectly acceptable seat was across from them? Her alluring body brushed against him with every movement of the carriage. Two damned hours he had been sitting in this hack, filled with want for the alluring woman.

  He was teeming with lust, rampant with a burning, aching, urgent, smoldering desire. It was driving him mad.

  Damn. Her scent filled the hack. The flowery, hypnotic aroma made him wish that he could lick it from every inch of her body.

  His palms and forehead were damp with sweat, his cock was straining against the falls of his breeches and his entire body was tense. Gabe closed his eyes and allowed a litany of blasphemes to flow through his mind.

  He loved her, damn it. He could not risk her safety by continuing on with her, by fogging his mind with emotion, thus endangering both of them. But by God he would do anything to have her again. And again. And again…

  Another groan escaped him and his eyes snapped open as he shifted in his seat.

  Mary turned her gaze on him from her view out the window and released a short, arousing gasp.

  “Gabe!” She touched her small cool hand to his forehead, the contact sending a shock of awareness through him. “You’ve a fever!” She worried her bottom lip. “Oh, Gabe, perhaps we had better stop at the next inn and have another look at—”

  “No!”

  Her eyes widened in shock at his harsh tone.

  “I apologize, Mary. We donnae have time te—”

  “But look at the state of you! You are in no condition to be riding for the next eight hours in this ill-sprung hack. It’ll jostle you to death!”

  “It’s nae the hack that will be the death of me, Mary.”

  “I do not understand.” A delicate frown furrowed her brow and Gabe’s control snapped.

  “I cannae—” He broke off as he crushed his bruised lips to hers in an all-encompassing kiss.

  His breath came heavily through his lust-flared nostrils as his tongue tangled with hers.

  Without breaking their kiss, Gabe sank to his knees on the carriage floor before her, pulling her skirts up past her thighs. With trembling fingers he fumbled with the buttons of his falls.

  “But your fever,” she broke their kiss to gasp.

  Gabe shook his head. “’Tis nae a fever, Mary. ‘Tis want, plain and simple. I want ye…so badly.”

  “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, yes, Gabe.”

  Finally free, he reached beneath her skirts to slide her arse toward the edge of the seat. The seat was just at the right height for him to slide himself deep within her silken heat and kiss her soft mouth simultaneously. They fit perfectly.

  She moaned against his lips as he reached the hilt. He responded with a soul-deep growl before pumping frantically into her, taking exactly what he craved, what he needed. And, by damn, did he need her.

  His fingers dug into her hips as he drove into her, again and again.

  Breaking their kiss, Mary’s head dropped backward, exposing the soft underside of her jaw and her beautifully arched neck. He bent forward, following the line of her throat with his tongue, still pumping deep into the depths of her womanhood.

  “Tha gaol agam ort, Mary,” Gabe whispered in Gaelic against her neck. I love you, Mary.

  She moaned as he thrust faster.

  “Bheir mi gràdh thu fad mo bheatha. You agus cha robh duine eile.” I will love you my whole life. You and no other.

  He felt the force of his completion build to fever pitch, but he held back.

  Desperate, he released her arse with one hand to rub his thumb into her sweet folds.

  “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, Gabe!”

  Her breath came in erratic huffs as she clenched around him. He watched as she came apart, her body tensing as her pleasure took her.

  Gabe let himself go, holding her tightly against him as he pumped his seed deep inside her.

  Chapter 33

  Mary was jolted awake as the carriage rounded a corner too fast.

  “Oi!” Gabe thumped a fist on the ceiling. “Apologies, leannan.” He returned his arm to its place across her shoulders.

  She covered a yawn with the back of her hand. “Mmm, it’s just fine, Gabe.” She blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked out the window from her position on Gabe’s shoulder. “What time is it?”

  He squinted out the window towards the sun hiding behind grey clouds. “Nearly a quarter of seven, I would say.”

  Mary sat forward and out of the circle of Gabe’s arm. “A quarter of seven? My goodness we must have nearly reached London!”

  She settled back into her seat and smiled at Gabe. It was no wonder she had fallen asleep along the ride. The man had exhausted her with his lovemaking. Why, just the thou
ght of it sent chills over her skin.

  “Hydra will expect us te report te him directly. I have already given Richie the direction,” Gabe said, running a finger along her jaw.

  “Yes,” she said, her eyelids growing heavy at the contact.

  “Ye changed yer scent.”

  “Hm? Oh.” She smiled. “Yes. I hadn’t the chance to use my new soap and cream until I washed at the inn this morning. I found it at a shop on Bond Street just after I received my new attire from Mrs. McPhee. I loved the scent, so I bought a small crate full. Silly, no?”

  “Nae,” his voice had deepened and was rough as gravel. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, hooking it around her ear and her heart fluttered. “What is it?”

  “Mmm?” She closed her eyes and turned her face into his palm.

  “What is the scent? It is a floral smell that I cannae place… Wildflowers?”

  “Lilac.”

  He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing a place just under her ear and sending shivers through her. “Mmm,” his hum sent vibrations through her neck.

  She tilted her head back to give him better access.

  “Tha gaol agam ort,” he mumbled. It was the second time she had heard him say that, but she had not the faintest idea what it meant.

  “Pardon?” she asked.

  He stilled, then pulled her earlobe in-between his teeth. “I like how ye smell.”

  Somehow, she doubted that was what he said, but she simply could not concentrate with him doing—oh!

  Gabe cursed soundly as the hack slowly bounced to a halt. Mary groaned. Too soon!

  Gratefully Richie did not open their door, so Mary had a moment to gather her wits, press her chilled hands to her heated cheeks, and pat at her fallen coiffure.

  Gabe gently gripped one of her hands in his. “Donnae fash yerself, Mary. Ye look lovely.”

  She grinned broadly at his praise, warmth spreading through her chest. “Thank you, Gabriel.”

  He nodded once at her. “The rain will likely take it down anyway.”