Games (Timeless Series)

by Loyd, Sandy

  “Do not think. Just kiss,” she said in a sultry voice, dragging his mouth back to hers.

  He stepped up the tempo, increasing the pressure of his mouth and tongue. At the same time, his fingers stroked, stopping at her luscious breasts. Soon, he began kneading. First one, then the other.

  With fast hands, he unfastened the top of her gown, baring her breasts while still kneading them. She moaned, opening and sending a straight shot of white-hot heat to his groin. He was having trouble holding on to his sanity. Kissing Giselle was intoxicating and addicting. He wanted nothing more than to finish undressing her…to have her naked…to continue making sweet love to her. Her compliance told him he could achieve his goal. Desire warred with common sense, with desire edging out ahead. Quickly forgetting his resolve of leaving her untouched, he now had a new purpose—seducing this enticing woman. He had the means and the opportunity.

  A steamboat whistle pierced the air, denoting an imminent departure. The noise jolted Simon back to reality.

  Damn!

  Regret washed over him. He had everything but time.

  Fighting for control, he raised his head. Giselle opened her eyes. Looking into stormy, passion-filled depths that were clearly stating she’d give him all he wanted, Simon’s temper ignited. How had this slip of a woman caused him to forget his duty? He’d never been in this situation before and it angered him that the flirtatious Giselle was the reason.

  He tugged her bodice closed. “Cover yourself.”

  His sharp words cracked like a whip. A look of horror moved over her expression.

  She slapped him across the face with a stinging blow. “You, monsieur, are not nice. And that was not a nice thing to do.”

  Stunned, he grabbed her hand and put it behind her back, bringing her close. Then he roughly kissed her again. He raised his lips and said in a terse voice, “Oh no! You can’t put all of that on me. You allowed me to continue, so don’t try and play coy with me now. Play with your other fishes if you must, but never toy with me. You understand?”

  The whistle blew again.

  “Hell, I haven’t got time for this. I’m late.” He let go of her and opened the door, but before he left, he turned back. “And one more thing. Don’t call me monsieur. My name is Simon. I damn well expect you to use it when you kiss me like that.”

  Simon made it to the riverboat dock with only minutes to spare. He stood on the deck and watched the lights of Louisville recede as the steamboat made its way up the river. Closing his eyes, he leaned into the railing, remembering the feel of Giselle’s enticing breasts in his hands. He could still taste her kisses and he yearned for more. God, the woman kissed like a seasoned courtesan, not the innocent he knew she was, and desire for her still hummed throughout his body. He opened his eyes and sighed.

  Suddenly he laughed, the rich sound breaking into the noiseless night as it dawned on him that he’d had a very close call. Kissing Giselle had caused him to lose control and in his thirty years of life, he couldn’t recall it ever happening before.

  The flirtatious coquette already had him forgetting his duty. He’d been damned lucky to get away from her hook unscathed. His resolve strengthened as he turned to go inside. He was damn good at solving his cases. No woman was worth changing and giving all that up, especially a flighty one like Giselle.

  Chapter 4

  Five Months Later

  The unseasonably warm December sun beat on Giselle’s neck and shoulders. She reached for her handkerchief to wipe the moisture from her forehead as Libby encouraged a frisky young stallion to take a bit with lead into his mouth.

  “You obstinate beast.” Libby frowned, placing her hands on her hips. “You’d think he’d realize after a while that I’m more stubborn than he is and just give in.”

  “I do not know, Libby. He is being mulish.” She chuckled. If Libby couldn’t do it, then it couldn’t be done. She had a special way with horses and Giselle had learned a great deal from her these past months while working on Colin’s—and now Libby’s—stud farm.

  “You think this beautiful weather will hold,” Libby asked.

  “I hope so.” Giselle sighed, her breath coming out in one long puff of air while she stared over the landscape. “I’ll miss being outside when it turns too cold.”

  “I’m not looking forward to winter.” Libby’s gaze followed Giselle’s toward the track where the two trained Colin’s beauties for racing each morning. “I don’t think Colin was expecting such warm weather for so long. He’s put off his trip to Louisville because of it.”

  “Oh, Libby, I love it here.” Her words rushed out like a waterfall during the spring runoff. “These horses have given me purpose. Paris wasn’t this exciting.” Of course, her parents weren’t too happy with her decision to work on the farm. Still, they didn’t have any valid reason to deny her request, seeing as she was now Libby’s companion and helper, living in the Thorpes’ big house. Colin had assured them she would be treated more as a guest than a paid servant.

  Libby smiled. “I can’t imagine how working as hard as you do can compare to living in Paris, attending balls and other social soirees.” She put her arm around Giselle, squeezing gently. “I’m just glad you’re here rather than there. Your friendship means the world to me.”

  “As does yours,” Giselle said as Libby refocused on the yearling.

  “Why won’t you cooperate, you bad boy?”

  Giselle bit back a smile at the sight her friend presented, standing head-to-head with the reluctant animal. Her boy’s dungarees were tucked into scuffed riding boots and she was wearing a muslin shirt under her jacket. The dress somehow worked for Libby, but it would never do for her.

  Non. Giselle would never don male attire as Libby was wont to do. Her riding habits worked just fine. The thought of someone mistaking her for a boy was the worst thing she could imagine. She never could understand Libby’s penchant for working in boy’s clothes, but after laboring with her day after day for several months, she, like everyone else on the farm, finally accepted the fact that Libby dressed the way she did.

  “Stubborn males,” Libby exclaimed in exasperation, giving an irritated shake of her head at the horse. “I’ll have to try a different approach, like ignoring him, to see what he does.”

  Libby walked away from the feisty animal. Giselle followed.

  After going about ten yards, she stopped and glanced at Giselle. “Oh, before I forget. Colin and I are leaving for Louisville tomorrow once we’re done with training. Even the weather can’t delay him any longer. He has another meeting to attend…some problems with the new racetrack. I’m not sure how long we’ll be staying. Would you like to join us?”

  Any other time Giselle would have jumped at the chance. Trips into Louisville with the Thorpes always provided wonderful opportunities to attend exciting parties and such.

  Instead of agreeing, she scanned the horizon. “Non,” she said wistfully. “I plan to visit my parents tomorrow afternoon. It has been well over a month since my last trip to Shelbyville.” Amusement replaced her pensive mood. A note of laughter rang in her voice as she added, “I cannot believe I am saying this, but I am homesick. Besides, Marguerite has some new gowns she wants me to see. I haven’t spoken to her in ages.” Her sister had been away during Giselle’s last visit.

  “Your decision wouldn’t also include the fact that a Mr. Bradford Tyler usually comes calling on the weekends, would it?”

  Giselle laughed. “Yes, he usually calls on Saturday afternoons and I will be back well before then. We are going riding. Colin said I could take Fortuna and Hercules—if the weather stays nice enough. Otherwise, we will have to cope with Minnie and Maizie’s watchful eyes in the library.”

  Libby groaned. The two happened to glance at each other at the same time and they both erupted into gales of laughter.

  “I know I shouldn’t laugh, but the idea of those two very old-fashioned dears watching over you is too funny,” Libby said of the Young sisters, who took
care of Colin’s three children by his first wife. After her death, the ladies became indispensable to Colin’s household, and then later to Libby. “It’s sweet how they feel it’s their job to keep you chaste with all of the men who come to call.”

  “Oui, it is funny,” Giselle agreed, still grinning. The two spinsters considered it their job to watch after the family, and they definitely considered Giselle a member. “What makes it even funnier is they need not bother. I am safe enough. While I love the attention from all my beaux, no one strikes my fancy enough to cause me to lose my head.”

  “That’s because none of them are Simon Harrington.”

  Feeling heat rise up her cheeks, Giselle quickly shook her head. “Non. Not true.” Her gaze moved to a couple of yearlings frolicking in the pasture beyond.

  “Oh, yes it is and don’t you dare deny it.” Libby gave an unladylike snort. “I was present that day. And even though most of my attention was on Colin, I kept an eye on the two of you. You both seemed to be taken with each other. Whatever happened to him, anyway? I thought for sure he’d be beating a path to your door sooner or later.”

  “He is unsuitable.” Giselle shrugged, keeping her gaze on the horses in the distant pasture and hiding her annoyance that Libby had unearthed her secret crush.

  Libby clucked, her expression saying the denial hadn’t persuaded her. “He seemed very suitable to me, not to mention very good-looking.”

  “I can tell you since you will not spread the tale. Simon is a US marshal. We were introduced in Paris just after I turned sixteen.” Giselle met Libby’s skeptical gaze. “It took two years to finally dance with him, despite all my attempts to catch his attention. He seemed as taken with me as I was of him and I thought I had found the one. Then one night at a state dinner just before we were to leave for Kentucky, I noticed Simon and my father deep in conversation. I was so excited because I thought maybe he was asking for my hand.” She broke off. Her focus moved over the barren December landscape, now more brown than green. “Yet when I asked my father about that meeting, I was sadly disappointed.”

  “My, we’re already calling him Simon.” Libby’s voice held teasing. When Giselle stayed quiet, studying her hands, she pressed. “You can’t stop now that you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

  “There is not much more to tell.” Giselle offered a nonchalant rise of her shoulders. “My father merely gave me some good advice. He told me a man like Simon would break my heart if I let him get too close. The special cases he is involved with keep him traveling all over the world for the US government—much like my father’s did. He never stays in one place long enough to form an attachment, and if he ever did, he would soon be long gone, so the attachment would be broken eventually.”

  “I see.” Libby nodded, remaining silent. Finally she spoke. “So, he’s one of those who can’t commit? Your father did what Simon does now, and look how he turned out.”

  “Yes. But he wanted what my mother had to offer. He fell in love with her and knew it was time for him to quit.” A sad feeling crept into her heart. “He compromised and changed his life for love. My father warned me that Simon is different. He is not looking for love. In fact, his job is his main love, so I doubt I will be seeing him again. And if perchance I do, I will know to step aside. The man is nothing but trouble.”

  “Well, it’s a shame.” Libby sighed. “He did seem nice enough. But I can see why you don’t want the heartache if he can’t commit.” Her eyebrows lifted inquisitively. “So, I take it Bradford doesn’t make your heart skip beats?”

  Giselle’s chuckle rose up. “Non. I like him well enough, but I cannot entirely determine why he does not excite me. Something about him makes me hesitate. It might have to do with the fact that he pays quite a lot of attention to his mama.” She exhaled a lengthy breath. “To be honest, none of the men I know excite me.” Grinning, she caught Libby’s attention and winked. “Who knows? I may end up an old maid right here on the farm along with Minnie and Maizie.”

  “No.” Libby’s head went from side to side. “Not you.”

  “Humph,” she said, unconvinced.

  “You’ll see.” Libby laughed, still shaking her head. “Someone will sweep you away when you’re least expecting it, and you’re far from being an old maid.”

  “I am almost twenty-one. My sister was married at eighteen and was a widow at twenty.”

  “I’d hardly call twenty old. Besides, didn’t you say Marguerite married for love?” At her nod, she went on. “She was one of the lucky ones to find it so young.”

  Giselle thought she’d found it too, but she’d been totally mistaken. “I have met so many men and no one strikes my fancy.”

  Libby walked gracefully to the fence and hefted herself on it in a carefree manner. Giselle followed. Leaning next to her, she took a deep breath while scanning the landscape. She sighed. “Maybe the fault lies in me. I like Bradford and he likes me—too much if you really must know the truth. Why can’t I fall in love with someone like him?”

  “Maybe you simply need to give him a chance,” Libby replied, distractedly tearing a leaf she’d picked up in two. “Don’t compare him to Simon.”

  “I do not.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Giselle remained quiet, not liking the answer.

  “Besides, I would think having someone to count on is important. One thing I’ve noticed. You can count on Bradford being here every Saturday at two o’clock sharp.”

  Another burst of laughter rushed up. “Then you marry him. Oh, that’s right. You have already married an exciting, good-looking man. So you do not need predictable. Confess. You also find him unexciting.”

  “A bit. But I do think that in itself could be a good thing.”

  “Yes, maybe for someone like Amelia Higgins.” Shy Amelia was a friend the two women mainly saw at church on Sundays or while visiting in town. Thinking of Simon’s bold moves the night at the ball and the next day, Giselle smiled at the thought of what Amelia’s reaction would be if Simon had waylaid her. “She would die of fright if a bold man ever paid any attention to her. Of course, since we are talking about me, it is just my luck that it will take a bold man to keep me from dying of boredom. Too bad Colin does not have a brother.”

  Libby chuckled. Just then, a long, wet nose nuzzled between them searching for Libby’s hand. Looking down, Giselle noticed the young stallion, his proud head bobbing up and down. The horse neighed.

  “Well, look who’s trying to get my attention,” Libby said triumphantly. “Let’s see how much he wants to please me.” She jumped off the fence and moved to observe what the horse did when she placed the bit into his mouth. When he responded favorably, she laughed. “Yes, there is something to behold in the predictability of the male species. Some males hate to be ignored. They will do anything to keep that from happening. Don’t you agree, Giselle?”

  “Wholeheartedly.”

  “Shall we finish here and then go for a quick ride?”

  Giselle nodded. “I would love a ride.”

  After completing their tasks, the two women headed toward the stables.

  ~~

  He stayed in the shadows, watching them lead their horses out of the stable, laughing and joking with not a care in the world. He swallowed a snicker. They had no idea he stalked them—no idea he stood so close. Smiling maliciously, a thrill passed through him. Too easy, he thought, and somewhat disappointing at what little challenge was required. He’d been working at Twin Oaks for over a month, blending in, biding his time, and learning the daily habits of all those on Colin Thorpe’s stud farm. Trusting fools, all of them. So totally caught up in training and working. Just as his employer said they would be, and just as the other owners had been. No one had any clue of the danger.

  Clenching his fist at his side, he could almost feel the weight of the added gold, easiest coin he’d ever make.

  After waiting several more minutes, he slipped farther into the stable, unobserved.

  Stal
king up to Fortuna’s stall, he noticed the horse give a nervous neigh and shy away. He stopped when he got to her closed gate and let out a low, menacing chuckle. Yes, he thought. The horses were never fooled like their trusting owners. Somehow the beasts always knew he was up to no good. Making eye contact with the uneasy animal now, his cold gaze told the mare she was next. Excitement shot through his bloodstream when the horse reared in agitation, causing the chill in his eyes to be replaced with heat.

  “Rear all you want,” he whispered cruelly. “Won’t do no bit of good. You think you’re gonna win the derby? Ha! I’ve got other plans. You’ll be dead before the end of the month and no one will know someone this close was involved.”

  He then turned his back on the proud beast and strolled out of the stable, whistling a jaunty tune along the way.

  Chapter 5

  Simon Harrington arrived at the White House in accordance with the president’s summons. Two army officers escorted him toward the Oval Office.

  “Oh, good,” President Grant said, looking up from behind a large mahogany desk when he entered the room. Two other men sat in plush chairs in front of the desk. “You’re finally here. You know Parker Davis and Jonathan Morgan?”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. President.” He glanced at the men, one his partner from his last case and the other his superior, and nodded. “Parker. Jon.” When both men returned the nod, Simon moved to sit in the chair President Grant had indicated.

  “What’ll you have to drink?”

  “Bourbon would be fine. Thank you, Mr. President,” Simon replied.

  The servant poured his drink and handed it to him. Simon remained silent until he left the room, then said, “I gather you have need of some special services?”

  The president’s bark of laughter came out with force. “You’re a quick one, Harrington. Of course I have need of your services. Don’t I always?”

  Chuckling, Simon sipped his drink and waited for him to elaborate.