by Rebecca King
He studied her closely as he approached, searching for any sign of worry or alarm, but could detect nothing but patient curiosity.
“Harriett,” he murmured, his eyes locked with hers. Slowly lowering his head, he paused for one infinitesimal moment, searching her face for any fear or hesitation. In that brief moment he gave her the opportunity to draw away, or ask him to stop, and was vastly relieved when she made no attempt to do either.
He felt her soft sigh brush across his chin moments before his lips swept across hers in a feather-light touch so brief, so faint, that Harriett wondered if she had imagined it. Everything within her was locked on this moment. Every sense tuned to his gentle breath that feathered across her cheeks. The very essence of him standing before her was overwhelming, yet strangely reassuring, making her feel protected by his presence rather than threatened.
“Hugo,” Harriett whispered, trying desperately to find the words she needed.
Sensing her concern, Hugo drew her into a gentle hold. “Just let me kiss you.” Nothing, except a marauding army could have stopped him from dipping his head for a second time and deepening the kiss.
Harriett gasped as his lips captured hers, more firmly the second time. This kiss was different than the first, a gentle brush of sensual promise. This kiss ensnared her very being in a seductive hold until she wasn’t sure where he left off and she began.
She instinctively jerked at the feel of the hot spear of his tongue against her lips, pushing forward, demanding access to the moist recesses of her mouth. Her startled gasp was immediately swallowed by the persistent pressure of his mouth as it locked upon hers. The relentless pressure made her head reel, and she clung uselessly to the soft folds of his shirt. Immediately his arms swept around her waist, drawing her tight against the muscled wall of his chest. There wasn’t a breath of air between them. Even through the material of their clothing, Harriett could feel the heavy, reassuring thump of his heartbeat and knew she was lost.
She moaned low in her throat, as one large palm captured the back of her head. His long fingers slid into the tangled curls and was immediately held captive in a silken hold. With his free hand, Hugo eased Harriett’s arm higher, until it was draped around his shoulder, drawing her even closer against his chest.
The lush mounds of her breasts pressed against the solid muscles of his chest. One large palm rested beneath her arm, slipping slowly downward. The soft pad of his thumb brushed the side of her breast teasingly before continuing the downward slide past the dip of her waist to rest on the gentle curve of her hip. Slowly, it moved around to rest at the small of her back, tugging her forward until her hips met the solid length of masculinity beneath the placket of his breeches.
He felt her instinctive shiver of feminine acknowledgment and felt a thrill of delight when she didn’t immediately pull away. Emboldened by her quiet acquiescence to his exploration, he slanted his head and deepened the kiss. His tongue tangled with her tongue, teasing and cajoling until she began to reciprocate.
Harriett had no idea what she was doing, and eventually began to copy the movements of his tongue. At first hesitantly, she was fuelled by feminine curiosity when he immediately moaned low in his throat and pulled her tighter against him.
How they moved, she never knew. All her senses were locked on the wonderful sensations she was feeling, not only by having his long arms wrapping her tight against him, but the gentle yet persistent pressure of his mouth as he laid claim to her. Despite her innocence, Harriett knew that was just what he was doing: laying claim to her senses until she couldn’t find the strength to protest at his invasion.
It came as no surprise when she felt the softness of the mattress at her back. She gasped aloud as her lips were suddenly free, only to glance up at the ceiling while Hugo peppered her jaw, neck and shoulder with tiny kisses. She knew she should stop; that this had already gone too far, but a small voice inside her pushed her to remain quiet for just a few minutes more. Long enough to savour his tender ministrations, and commit the wonderful sensations to memory.
She didn’t protest when she felt the cool air of the room against her shoulder and chest, and at first missed the warmth of Hugo’s body leaning over her. It was only when his soft lips began a downward slide that she realised that he had lowered her dress to reveal the lush mounds of her breasts to his hungry gaze.
Her cheeks flooded with warmth, and she lifted her arms to cover her modesty, only for Hugo to capture her hands in one large palm and hold them above her head, his eyes twinkling chidingly at her.
He could sense her hesitation, and wondered if he had pushed her too far, too soon. The last thing he wanted was for her to make him stop just yet, and he hastened to reassure her that she was safe with him.
“I promise you, Harriet, I won’t do anything to hurt you,” Hugo murmured. Every instinct within him clawed at him to possess her, take what she was so innocently offering and enjoy the moment. But he had far too much respect for her to take her innocence and then walk away, and despite his burgeoning affection for her, he wasn’t in a position to offer her anything but a brief liaison.
If there was any woman he had ever met who deserved more than a brief sexual dalliance, it was Harriett. She deserved her innocence to be taken by her husband, on their wedding day, with a lifetime together ahead of them.
It would kill him to walk away from her, but he couldn’t make promises he didn’t know if he could keep. Even when England had won the war with Napoleon, assuming they did, then there was enough crime throughout the country to keep the Star Elite busy, albeit in a different field, if the War Office deemed it necessary. He had been fighting for so long now, he wasn’t sure that he could stop.
He simply couldn’t afford to take Harriett’s innocence, as delectably sensual as she was. Not only did Harriett deserve better, but he didn’t want to risk leaving her with child, and he knew that if he took matters any further, that was a distinct possibility. It would make walking away impossible.
Trying hard to take a mental step back from the sensual temptation of the woman beside him, Hugo returned his lips to her mouth, savouring her sweet taste. He groaned and fought for control when one delicate hand slid into the hair on the back of his head. He tried to recall battle plans of old, and ran through the list of suspects in a desperate attempt to ignore the aching in his loins, but nothing helped. Each time he thought he had control over his wayward body, she would shift imperceptibly closer and he would be lost again.
“Oh God, Harriett,” he groaned, easing back to stare down at the dark tips of her breasts, pointing temptingly up at him.
Her hair had broken loose of its bonds, helped by his searching fingers, and now lay in silken abandon across the white sheets. She lay beneath him like a wanton goddess, and he inwardly cursed, considering just what he had started. He wondered briefly if he had the fortitude to stop, and had to dig deep to ignore the driving need to find release within her.
Harriett lay beneath him, not sure what she was supposed to do. She could sense his hesitation, and knew that something was holding him back. Was it something she had done? Had she been too bold?
A small voice inside her warned that she was making a dreadful mistake by allowing things to go this far; that she should stop now, and not allow him such liberties. But her logical side reminded her that men were hardly queuing up at her door. This could be the only time in her life she would have the opportunity to experience lying in Hugo’s arms, and she knew that even if she had a line of suitors vying for her attention, nobody would ever come close to her heart the way Hugo had.
“Hugo,” she whispered, starting to feel uncomfortable with his hesitation. The gentle fog he had woven so cleverly around her began to dissipate, replaced with the cold dash of reality. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to assess or analyse this. She wanted what only Hugo could give her - whatever that might be.
Unable to resist her, Hugo dipped his head, suckling her deep into his mouth. Her
cry of surprise egged him on. Suddenly the tight control he had on his desire snapped, and he began to feast hungrily on her.
Molten warmth pooled low in Harriett’s belly, and she began to squirm at the sensations his wicked mouth was creating. She knew she should tell him to stop, and opened her eyes to stare down at him, but the sight of his lips against her pale skin made her gasp aloud. The tanned skin of his face was flushed; the angles of his face appeared starker, almost drawn.
She began to writhe beneath him, desperately seeking a way to ease the ache that was building deep within her. Her hips shifted restlessly. She clung to him at the same time that she tried to push him away.
Suddenly his lips captured hers, swallowing her cry. The tender pebbles of her nipples rubbed against the soft material of his shirt, tightening the coil deep within her until she thought she would go quietly mad. The thick fog of passion overwhelmed her, rendering her useless to do anything but lie beneath him while he lifted her skirts. The soft rush of cold air against her inner thighs didn’t penetrate the heavy desire that coursed through her veins, and she made no protest as his hand slid higher, to the moisture of her femininity.
Hugo knew he should stop; should give her the opportunity to tell him to stop, but the delicious taste of her was too much for his beleaguered senses. Although he would never relinquish his control enough to take such a risk as possessing her, there was no harm in bringing her pleasure. A deeper, masculine arrogance wanted to be the one who introduced her to the wonders of her own body.
Long moments later, with Harriett’s scream of release locked in his throat, Hugo lay on his back on the bed, one arm draped across his eyes, willing his throbbing body to cool.
Harriett lay beside him, still gasping as her trembling body began to settle down.
Hugo knew he should cover her, and hold her while she recovered, but couldn’t bear the thought of holding her temptingly against him. He was as close to the edge as humanly possible, and it had already taken every ounce of his forbearance to stop himself from possessing her and making her his, in every way possible.
“Hugo?”
He could hear the hesitation and worry in her voice.
“Just give me a minute, Harriet,” Hugo muttered. Even her voice was tormenting him. It had deepened several notches and was husky with a sensuality that teased his senses in a silken caress. The mental image of her riding him swam before him teasingly and, with a curse, he pushed himself to sit on the side of the bed. The aching in his loins was harsher than ever, until he wondered how much longer he could stand the torment.
He could sense Harriett watching him, clearly worrying she had done something wrong, but at that moment couldn’t find the words to reassure her. He was in physical pain from the need to protect her, and was so close to losing his fragile grip on control that one look, one touch, was all it would take for him to push her back, slide between her legs and do the very thing every fibre of his being was crying out for.
“God you tempt me,” he growled without turning around. “I don’t want to do anything that you will regret later.” He shot her a warning look over his shoulder, and almost groaned anew at the sight of her bared breasts glistening teasingly in the candle-lit room.
“But I am a man. Flesh and blood, that right now wants you badly. I won’t compromise you Harriett, or risk getting you with child.”
Harriett winced at the bluntness of his words. The last thing she wanted was to be with child. She suddenly realised the enormity of what they had just done – what she had just done, and how unfair it had been on him. She had experienced such wonderful, astonishing sensations that her senses were still struggling to understand.
Immediately a wave of shame swept over her. She had behaved like a wanton hussy, allowing him liberties with her body and encouraging his advances to the point that he was in physical pain and clearly uncomfortable. While she had greedily taken everything he had given her, pushing him on to give her more, he had had the fortitude and wherewithal to keep one eye on reality and control of himself.
Her sudden nakedness made her feel acutely uncomfortable and she quickly covered herself up, sitting on the opposite side of the bed under a cloud of humiliation.
“I’m sorry,” Harriett whispered, her cheeks flaming. Suddenly she desperately needed to get out of the room and be by herself. She had humiliated herself enough for one night, and didn’t know what else to say to him.
With a sob she lunged from the bed and scurried toward the door, ignoring him when he reached out to stop her.
“Harriett-” Hugo growled, wincing at the obvious distress on her face. By the time he got to the door, she was disappearing into the small bedroom she slept in next to the kitchen; the slamming of the door resounding hollowly through the now silent house.
Hugo wondered if he should just go outside and take over from Archie, because he knew that sleep would not come to him that night. He was wide awake, his body positively humming with need for her.
Running a weary hand down his face, he paused outside the door to the bedroom, his ears straining for any sound of her sobbing within the small room. With a sigh he eased the back door open quietly and slipped out into the night. The last thing he wanted was to visit the local graveyard, but given what had just happened with Harriett, he needed some fresh air to clear his thoughts. He hoped the cool night air would go some way to calming his libido. If not, he was in dire trouble indeed, and it wasn’t only from attempted murderers and spy smugglers.
The following morning Hugo was tired, grumpy and in no mood for any awkwardness. Throughout the night his thoughts had remained firmly locked upon Harriett, lying all alone in the cottage she called home. The cold air of the midnight hour had done little to cool his ardour, and he was still plagued by the clawing need to lay claim to her, in spite of the changes it would bring to both of their lives.
By the time he had watched dawn creep over the horizon, he knew the decision on whether he should consider making her his wife had already been made for him, and that didn’t do anything to ease his growing bad temper. By the time he returned to Harriett’s cottage at first light, he found the door locked to bar his entry, which fuelled his temper even further. He briefly contemplated kicking the door in, but decided instead that Rupert could manage to keep an eye on her more than adequately from the outside. Harriett was clearly capable of ensuring the cottage remained barred to visitors, leaving him free to start to finalise matters so he could leave the village.
His knock on the doctor’s door remained unanswered. He frowned up at the bedroom windows for a moment, wondering if everyone was still abed. Had he seen a shadow shift within the house? He couldn’t be sure, but he wasn’t about to give up.
Making his way toward the rear of the property again, he climbed over the garden wall with familiar ease. He blithely ignored the haphazardly stacked boxes Joshua had used to hide the strange disc, and made his way to the back door. Until he had confirmed where Joshua and Marion were, he couldn’t risk alerting them that they had been watched. It didn’t come as any surprise to find nobody at home. He was surprised though, to find the door unlocked and open for anyone to wander in. Hugo wondered if it was meant to be that way, and immediately felt his hackles rise.
Something was definitely amiss. For Joshua to go missing was excusable. He was the doctor for the village, after all. But for Marion to disappear at the same time? Especially at the same time that someone made an attempt on Harriett’s life?
Pausing just inside the doorway, he allowed the silence of the house to settle around him before beginning a thorough sweep of the narrow terraced property, from the kitchen he was standing in, to the room in which Harriett had been attacked. The sight of the unmade bed, and the tray of partially eaten toast he had shared with Harriett at breakfast the previous day, confirmed that nobody had returned to the house since the attempt on Harriett’s life.
But did that mean that Joshua and Marion were assassins? If so, why hadn’t the
y succeeded in killing her? Joshua was bigger and stronger than Harriett. It would be relatively easy to overpower a semi-conscious, defenceless woman.
A vague flicker of a thought filtered through his mind, and he carefully tucked it to one side to analyze later, when he was away from any potential danger. Until then, there was one more room in the house he needed to search.
Easing open the door to the study, his closer inspection of the brandy barrel still sitting in polished splendour on the dresser told him everything he needed to know. Cursing fluidly, he quickly finished searching the kitchens before quietly leaving through the back door. His suspicions were correct. He had found enough to know that Star Elite had one massive problem on their hands, and the village needed to find themselves a new doctor, because he was fairly certain that neither Joshua or Marion would be back.
Having searched the small yard at the rear of the property, and in particular the haphazardly stacked boxes Joshua had used as a hiding place the previous day, Hugo pulled himself back over the wall.
He needed to arrange a meeting with the others so they could change their allotted tasks. Unfortunately, with what he had learned at the doctor’s house, it looked as though Harriett was going to need her own personal bodyguard, and that had to be him. The need to keep her by his side became sharp, and was enough to prompt him into lengthening his stride and hurry around the harbour.
At first Harriett ignored the knock on the door. Hugo was the last person she wanted to see that day, if at all. Humiliation still gripped her in its fearsome claws and, although it was starting to be replaced by bitter regret, it didn’t do anything to help ease the thick layer of guilt that assailed her. She didn’t know what to say to him, and didn’t want to hear his excuses anymore. He had made it clear that he had no interest in marriage, or anything of a permanent basis. Although she was grateful he had had the wherewithal to keep a hold of his senses, it was faintly galling that he hadn’t been as carried away by what they had shared as she had.
