Once Upon a Spy: A Secrets and Seduction Book

by Sheridan Jeane

  She considered his offer. She’d been desperately weary just a few minutes ago, but now energy seemed to hum through her body. Perhaps some whiskey would help soothe her nerves. She nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  When Robert turned and headed down a hallway, she followed him. He pushed open a door and paused, fumbling with something just inside the entrance. A moment later, light blossomed from an oil lamp and the sharp scent of sulfur bit at her nostrils. Robert lit a long taper and tossed the blackened, smoking match into a small ceramic bowl on the table. He moved swiftly through the room, touching the flame to the lamps until their soft amber glow filled the room, and then tossed the taper into the fireplace.

  A few framed architectural drawings dotted the burled oak walls of the masculine space, and a low table with a chess set sat before a reddish-brown leather sofa. Behind it sat two massive bookcases filled with leather volumes that her fingers itched to touch and explore. The power and nobility of the room drew her to it. She noticed a marble bust on a pedestal, but couldn’t identify the face of the man it depicted. Could it have been of some ancient Roman? She didn’t like his stern expression.

  Near the large desk sat a smaller table, neatly arranged with a variety of bottles, decanters, and glassware. Robert made his way toward it as he waved his hand in the direction of the sofa. “Please be seated.”

  She tugged her gloves from her hands as she sat. When she placed her hand on the sofa’s arm, she couldn’t resist sliding her fingers across the buttery leather.

  The room was full of texture and complexity, just like this man. The more he revealed about himself, the more intrigued she became. But she sensed there were facets of himself he hid from everyone. What would it be like to have this man lay himself bare to her? And what would it take to convince him to do so? She glanced at the array of bottles and glasses on the table. Perhaps after a drink or two—

  “Would you like some sherry?” he asked, turning to glance at her.

  She slid her hand off the soft leather and interlaced her fingers on her lap. “No, thank you. I prefer whiskey with a little water. Ice, too, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  Robert raised his eyebrows. “Whiskey? Not many ladies drink that.”

  “Well, I’m not breaking tradition, since I’m no longer considered a lady.” There. She’d said it. She’d shone a light directly upon the difference in their social status. She felt herself relaxing. She liked this room. It soothed her.

  To her surprise, Robert’s only reaction was to chuckle wryly and open a large stoneware ice bucket to peer inside. “There’s still a bit of ice in here. Landon must have brought some in for my brother. That’s odd, since Frederick usually prefers to use the drawing room.” He raised a slender ice pick and plunged it into the container with a loud crunch. He grabbed a pair of tongs and dropped a few pieces into a pair of glasses before adding a measure of whiskey to each. He added water to one and then crossed the room to hand it to her. She curled her hand around the glass, taking care not to touch him.

  He took a step back and observed her as he tapped his fingers against the side of his glass. When she didn’t move, he glanced at her drink as though urging her to sip it. From his intense interest, she suddenly realized he wanted to see her reaction to the whiskey.

  Antonia breathed in the aroma of the liquid, letting its smoky scent fill her senses. She detected a faintly sweet note as well, but the liquid fire she knew she would find remained hidden— until she raised the glass to her lips.

  The ice bumped against her mouth as she allowed the liquid to slide down her throat. The heat didn’t hit her until the whiskey splashed against the back of her throat. She enjoyed the contradictory sensations of heat and ice as the liquid blazed its frigid fingers down her throat and hit her stomach. The very tip of her tongue tingled, and she flicked it across her lips to trap the bead of whiskey that lingered, savoring the droplet of smoky flavor.

  Curling her fingers more firmly around the glass, Antonia glanced up at Robert and found him staring at her mouth as though mesmerized. When he noticed her regard, he shifted his attention to her eyes. His own darkened and seemed to devour her.

  She stopped breathing. The man had wicked eyes. Eyes that could make her forget what was important.

  She glanced away and took another sip of the whiskey, this time letting a piece of the ice slide into her mouth as she steadied her breathing. She crunched at it as she tried to evade Robert’s steady gaze.

  “Are you nervous?”

  She glanced at him. “What makes you think that?”

  “The ice. The way you’re clutching your glass.”

  To hide her surprise, she downed the rest of her whiskey. She fumbled as she set her glass on the table, trying to hide her disquiet by placing it squarely in the center of a small tray. “I’m tense. Who wouldn’t be? I lost my only means of employment. You must admit that it isn’t every night that one escapes would-be kidnappers.”

  “Of course it is,” he said with a grin. “It happened to me just yesterday.”

  She let out a laugh. “I suppose it did. It would seem that you’re the exception to the rule. Perhaps I should distance myself from you and your life of danger and intrigue.”

  Robert took a step closer to her. “Just last night you risked everything to steal that church register. You don’t strike me as someone who quakes at a challenge.”

  “I don’t know about that. I won’t shirk from tasks that must be done, but neither do I seek out excitement for its own sake. Stealing the book was different. I was taking action— taking control of my destiny. But tonight? Tonight those men tracked me down and chased us through the storage room. It was terrifying.” The tension she thought she’d dispelled crept its way back into her body. “I feel like I’m some animal being stalked by a hunter.” She shuddered and then rolled her shoulders. “I suppose it’s the difference between being the predator and the prey.”

  “But we eluded them.”

  “I’m glad you were with me.” She couldn’t sit still any longer and rose to her feet. At the same time, Robert took another step forward, and she abruptly found herself standing with her face only inches from his chest. His warm, broad chest.

  “My, but you’re large,” she said, tilting her head back to glance up at him. “I can see why those men ran from you.”

  “I’ve found my size to be an asset when it comes to physical intimidation,” he murmured as he inched closer to her. “In fact, I tried to use it to manipulate you when we first met at the embassy. I did my damnedest to make you feel small, but you were undaunted. I must admit, I found that most intriguing.”

  Despite the thrill that shot through her at this admission, she rolled one shoulder in a dismissive gesture. “I never noticed,” she lied. “I’m used to being the smallest person in the room. Everyone towers over me. I can’t let my lack of physical stature unnerve me, or I’d never have any confidence at all. And anyway, I’ve found that if I look at a man in just the right way, I rattle him more than he could ever rattle me. It seemed to work to my benefit the night we met.”

  His eyes narrowed very slightly, and she tilted her head to the side to look at him coyly.

  “Are you surprised to hear that?” she asked.

  “It’s a quite a claim. Are all men susceptible? Even those who are forewarned?”

  “Perhaps you’d like to judge for yourself.” She tilted her chin down slightly so she gazed up at him through her widened eyes and fixed him with a heated stare. After the kiss they’d already shared, she knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  Robert met her gaze. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t glance away. Instead, he kept his stare even, returning her fire and heat with his cool determination.

  Rather than flustering him, the reverse was true. She found herself trapped in his gaze. His eyes were most fascinating. Although they were pale blue, the centers had shafts of a slightly darker hue radiating outward, like a frost-bo
und starburst. As she stared into their depths, heat wrapped around her throat and washed down her shoulders, as though she were wearing a fur wrap in an overheated room.

  She knew she should end this stare-down, but she couldn’t. Instead, she rose up on her tiptoes and leaned closer, inhaling the faint whiskey scent of him as she kept her gaze fixed on those two frozen starbursts.

  Suddenly the pair of frozen, blue embers began to warm. She was transfixed as Robert leaned closer to her, wrapping his arms around her, engulfing her in his masculine heat and strength. He lowered his mouth to hers, and as their lips touched, she was surprised by his tenderness. She’d expected him to devour her, but he kept himself in check.

  She should pull away, but she couldn’t. Instead, she let out a soft sigh of contentment and opened her mouth under the pressure of his lips. They darted their tongues against each other, touching, tasting, and withdrawing, only to begin again more insistently.

  She leaned into him. She wanted his support. His strength. She lifted her hands and allowed them to drift up his arms, sliding them over his shoulders until her fingers found their way back to the hair at the nape of his neck.

  Robert moaned softly and pulled her closer. He ran one hand up and down her back. The heat of his palm radiated through her gown, intensifying the growing warmth within her.

  That same feeling of safety and security engulfed her again. It would be such a simple matter to give herself over to him entirely.

  Robert wrapped his arms more tightly around her waist and lifted her, pulling her firmly against his body as he moved them both closer to the sofa. She clung to him, her arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders, as he lowered them both to the soft, cool embrace of the leather. He pressed her back and began kissing her just beneath her ear. He trailed his lips down her neck, kissing every inch of skin along his path toward the top of her bodice.

  Antonia raked her fingers through his hair, savoring the touch and feel of this man. She knew she should make him stop, but she couldn’t force herself to say the words or to push him away. She wanted him, and she could hardly believe that he wanted her as well. A nobody. A nothing. A woman without a name.

  But names were meaningless at a moment like this. Only the emotions and sensations coursing through her mattered.

  Robert cupped her breast, and when he slid his thumb back and forth over the tip, she arched her back, yearning for more.

  He paused and plunged his fingers into her hair, cupping her head and pulling her into him as he kissed her deeply. His hand fell to her front and he began working at the buttons that closed her bodice. It didn’t take long before it was open and he was pushing it from her shoulders, revealing her corset and chemise.

  She slid her hands inside his evening jacket and pushed it from his shoulders. He shrugged out of it, throwing it across the room and then pressing her to his chest. The heat of his skin through his linen shirt seared her, and she began to tug at his neckcloth.

  “I want to see you,” she murmured.

  His eyes blazed with an icy fire as he quickly accommodated her, shedding his neckcloth and linen shirt in an instant.

  The lamplight flickered, casting a warm glow over his lean, muscular chest and accentuating its hollows and ripples. She reached out, tracing them with her fingers, and Robert let out a ragged sigh of pleasure.

  “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” His voice wavered, as though he might be on the edge of losing control.

  “I think it’s the same thing you’re doing to me.”

  He leaned forward, as though about to kiss her again, but then he stopped. “We can’t do this,” he said, pulling away from her.

  For an instant, she nearly ignored his words. Her heart wanted her to close the distance between them. To take what she wanted and ignore the consequences.

  But that was just it. There were consequences. She knew if she pressed her bared flesh against his, they’d both be swept along by their passion. Even now the current tugged at her, nearly impossible to resist. But she couldn’t make this decision lightly. What of the future she wanted for herself? For her sisters?

  She leaned back, just an inch, but that small movement was enough to divert the current. It no longer threatened to overpower her.

  This was good. This was for the best. So why did her heart suddenly hurt so much?

  “I’m sorry, Antonia. I should have been able to control myself. I never should have treated you so carelessly. You deserve better.”

  Antonia stopped breathing at his words. Those weren’t the things a man would say to someone of her station. He spoke as though he considered her to be a lady. “I don’t— I don’t understand. You know what I am. You know I have no name. No one would fault you if you decided to—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “You speak as though I’m your equal.”

  Robert seemed momentarily astonished by her words. “Of course you’re my equal. Why would I think otherwise? You should expect nothing less from me.”

  Hot tears sprang to Antonia’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Who was this man? This noble and honorable man. Had he sprung from some dream? Some childish fantasy where a hero swept in and saved her from an awful fate? It was a foolish thought. This was real life, not some children’s tale.

  “Shhh.” Robert pulled her into his arms. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears away. “These past two days have been strenuous.” He tilted his head down and pressed his lips to her brow. “You’re safe here.”

  Safe? No, she was far from safe right now. Somehow, the center of her being was no longer secure. The hardened shell that protected her essence from harm was melting away under the pressure of his affection. Its loss might very well destroy her. Her heart had never truly been in jeopardy until she’d met this man. He could easily become a necessity for her continued existence. A fundamental need. She could already feel the way it pulled on her. Like water or air or food. If this need continued to consume her, what would she be willing to sacrifice simply to be with him? How much of herself would she lose?

  She closed her eyes, pressing her damp cheek against the fine hair on his chest that tapered down beneath the belt of his trousers.

  They had now. This moment in each other’s arms.

  And for tonight, it was enough. His warmth and comfort soothed her, and she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Blest are those

  Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled

  That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger

  To sound what stop she please.

  - William Shakespeare

  Robert cradled the back of Antonia’s head in his palm as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. So sweet. So desirable. So much more vulnerable than she wanted to be.

  Her breathing became even and deep as her exhaustion overtook her. This moment of tenderness, with her perfect trust in him, almost took his breath away.

  Did he deserve her faith? Not yet. Not after what he’d almost stolen from her just moments ago. The strength of his remorse hit him so hard he had to force himself not to tense and accidentally awaken her. He never should have behaved so dishonorably. She deserved better. He wanted more from her than this one night. Much more.

  He gazed down at their bared arms, hers so pale against his. Halting their lovemaking had required tremendous force of will. He’d had no right to take her, despite the fact that she’d freely offered herself. As a gentleman, he knew better. He knew the limits that restricted them both.

  He’d wronged her. He’d never before spilled a virgin’s blood. Doing so would have gone against everything he’d been taught. Taking it from Antonia tonight when she was exhausted and in need of his protection would have been tantamount to stealing it from her.

  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, shoving a cushion beneath it. Tonight wouldn’t have been the first time this room had witnessed blood and dishonor. The thought made his stomach tighten reflexively, and he recalled
the phantom tang of iron in the air. Suddenly his nostrils seemed to fill with it. Fifteen years ago, the scent had saturated the room.

  Memories came flooding back in an instant. The blood, his mother’s screams, the smell of gunpowder. The spreading pool of red under Father’s head as it seeped across the desk. The sealed letter sitting neatly and squarely in front of Father, a faint misting of crimson splattered across it and Robert’s own name written across it in his father’s bold hand. Father’s life’s blood inching toward it, threatening to consume it.

  Some instinct had made him snatch up the envelope, barely rescuing it from the vital fluid. The side of his finger accidentally brushed the warm liquid, and he had to take care not to mar his white shirt as he tucked the paper into his pocket.

  Now, the hand he held against Antonia’s head twitched as he remembered finally wiping the blood, the evidence of his actions, onto his dark trousers. His body remembered the moment well, even as he tried to push the memory from his mind. He didn’t want to be reminded of his father’s death. Not now. Not with this woman in his arms.

  But those memories weren’t so easily banished.

  Perhaps they plagued him now for a reason. Perhaps there was some deeper connection to the present, and one part of his mind recognized a resonance of which he wasn’t yet consciously aware.

  The more he considered this possibility, the more he became convinced of it.

  Assured of his decision, he allowed those long-suppressed memories to rise up— allowed himself to remember an afternoon he’d spent years trying to forget.

  §

  “No!” his mother cried out as she rushed into the room only a moment behind Robert. “No— no— no!”

  She’d flown around the desk and grabbed Father by the shoulders, frantically shaking him as though he were asleep. In her bewilderment, she’d only managed to push the wheeled chair he was sitting on back far enough so that Father’s body slid from it and toppled to the floor.