Finessing the Contessa

by Wendy Soliman

  “Then it’s hopeless.” She paused, presumably to think, which was precisely what Rob needed to do. The accent, the disinclination to talk in Italian, him being the subject of their discourse—there was only one foreign lady he anticipated meeting at his destination and that was the infamous contessa. This was obviously her, but why in God’s name was she willing to collude against him? “No matter. I shall be under the same roof as him for at least a sennight. Have patience. There will be plenty of opportunities then.”

  “Where you will immediately be suspect.”

  “How can that be? You assured me I’d be above suspicion.”

  “I’m concerned you won’t have time to win his confidence before he passes the documents on. That would have unfortunate consequences for us both.”

  “I still don’t understand what you expect me to do about it now.”

  “You possess considerable ingenuity, my dear. I strongly advise you to use it.”

  “I hope you’re not suggesting that I go to Lord Robert’s room and rob him while he sleeps.”

  The rogue had the audacity to chuckle. “The possibility had occurred to me.”

  Rob heard the villain’s accomplice inhale sharply. “Have you completely lost your wits?”

  “On the contrary, I see a good opportunity that ought to be exploited.”

  “If it’s so easy, why not do it yourself? If he wakens and finds me in his room, he’ll know at once why I’m there.”

  “He won’t waken but if he does, merely say that you mistook his room for yours.”

  “Bah, he will never believe that. He’s a chess genius with a sharp brain to match. Such people aren’t imbeciles, you know.”

  “I have complete confidence in your persuasive powers. Besides, he believes you’re a patriot.”

  “I am a patriot.” She sighed. “Were it not for your—”

  “Never mind all that.” Damn, I’d really like to know what excuse she’d been about to make to justify her behaviour. “Just do as I suggest and be done with the business. Leave it another hour or two to be sure that he’s sound asleep and then slip into his room, find the documents and bring them to me.”

  The man strode off in the direction he’d come from, clearly assuming she would do as he asked. Why wouldn’t she? They were clearly working together against the interests of the British. Which was why Rob was surprised when she let forth with a most unladylike string of oaths. Italian was an expressive language to curse in. Rob understood every word and considered them entirely fitting, given that she’d just undertaken to enter a gentleman’s bedchamber at the dead of night to carry out her perilous assignment.

  Part of him wanted to reveal himself and demand an explanation. But he wasn’t free to please himself since his loyalty belonged to Hal. Rob returned to his room and found his man Bowker industriously brushing one of his coats.

  “There’s been a late arrival here at the inn, m’lord,” he said by way of greeting.

  “Has there now?” Rob flung himself into a chair and pretended to think about it. “The Contessa Electra Falzone, perhaps?”

  “Blimey, how did you know that? Met her already, have you?” Bowker rolled his eyes. “Should have known.”

  “Not precisely.” Rob told Bowker about his near-encounter with the lady in question. He was angry and disappointed in the contessa, for it was definitely her, but her male accomplice was a cowardly blaggard for not doing his own dirty work.

  He wanted to believe that the contessa was an innocent pawn in this man’s games, even though she’d given him no reason to feel that way. She had sounded nervous, but that was hardly surprising, given what she’d been asked to do.

  His disappointment was intense. He didn’t want her to be a common spy. He’d waited a long time to meet her, had heard so much about her that he’d found intriguing. He’d built her up in his mind to be exotic and extraordinary only to discover that apart from being a first-rate chess player, she was no different from all the other women he’d met since embracing society. In fact she was considerably worse since none of the others were spies.

  “Who was the cove she spoke to then?”

  “I don’t have a clue, but I’m confident you’ll discover his identity for me.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?”

  “I need you to keep watch. When she leaves this room, she’ll meet with him, probably outside in the corridor. He wants the report she’s supposed to steal and will probably arrange for it to be whisked away before it’s missed. Follow him back to his room and then, in the morning, ask the landlord who he is.” Rob paused. “If he’s here under his real name, which is unlikely.”

  “You’re going to let the contessa come here tonight, then?”

  Rob grimaced. “Certainly I am. I need to try and discover whom she’s working for. Besides, she can’t rob me of the papers her associate is so keen to get his hands on because—”

  “Because they don’t exist. The marquess told you to make your report verbally.”

  “Precisely. My brother is a cautious man, with good reason it would seem.”

  “Why risk letting her come to you? She might be armed.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I know you’re fond of the female form, m’lord, but have you stopped to consider that she might look like the rear end of a horse?”

  “Unlikely. She smells of gardenias.”

  “Gardenias?” Bowker frowned, probably thinking that Rob was dicked in the nob. “Not sure I follow your meaning.”

  “Never mind, Bowker. Just stay alert and take care. Unless I miss my guess, the contessa isn’t dangerous, but her contact most assuredly is.”

  * * *

  Electra paced back and forth in the best chamber in the inn, muttering beneath her breath in rapid Italian.

  “Calm yourself, m’lady,” her maid said. “You’ll make yourself sick with worry if you carry on like this.”

  “It’s intolerable, Luci! That I should be reduced to the level of a common thief, or worse, it’s...it’s—”

  “You can’t go to Lord Robert’s room and there’s an end to it.” The older lady placed her hands on hips and frowned. “Ignore Maynard’s warning. There’s nothing he can do to compel you.”

  “Unfortunately there’s a very great deal.” Images of her brother Vincenzo’s laughing eyes flashed through her mind, causing pain to rip through her. She had already lost her beloved child—a circumstance that had almost cost Electra her sanity. There had been nothing she could do to save her son but it was within her power to help Vincenzo. “Why else would I have anything to do with him? I thought I’d put all that behind me when—”

  “I keep telling you, he won’t carry out his threats. If he does, then he’ll have no hold over you, and we both know his master needs that report badly.”

  Electra sighed. “I’m sorely tempted to tell him to go to the devil but I can’t afford to take that risk. I couldn’t live with myself if Vincenzo...if—”

  “Let me go to Lord Robert’s room instead of you.”

  “You?” Electra glanced up at her stout, staunchly loyal maid. “I couldn’t ask you to.”

  “You’re not asking, I’m offering.” Luci managed a grimace that was probably intended as a smile. With Luci it was sometimes hard to be sure. “If he wakes up and espies me, I’m sure my virtue won’t be compromised.”

  Electra suppressed a smile. “Thank you, Luci, but I shall go myself.” She paused. “I must, for Vincenzo’s sake.”

  Luci tutted. “I can see that you’ve quite made up your mind.”

  Electra threw herself onto the bed. “Where do you suppose Lord Robert will keep the report?”

  “He will have a pouch of some sort, I shouldn’t wonder, and he’ll keep it close by him if it’s that importan
t.”

  “Yes, that’s what concerns me. I shall have to get really close. Let’s just hope he really is a sound sleeper.” She stood and resumed her pacing, then fell onto the stool in front of the glass and glowered at her reflection. “Take my hair down and braid it for me, Luci. We might as well stick to our normal routine.” She exhaled slowly, endeavouring to quell her nerves. “I take great comfort from routine.”

  * * *

  Rob always slept naked and saw no reason to change his habit simply because a lady planned to pay him an unannounced visit. Nevertheless, he pulled the coverlet up to his waist to spare her blushes. He left the bed hangings open, and a full moon together with the dwindling fire supplied some light in the chamber. A leather pouch containing his notes on a chess gambit protruded from the pillow next to him—the best method he could think of to gain a close-up view of the contessa.

  A considerable amount of time passed. So much time that Rob began to think she’d had a change of heart. “Come along, sweet lady. We have a game to play that has nothing to do with chess.”

  As though she’d heard him, the soft rustle of her clothing and a waft of gardenias alerted him to her eventual presence even before she lifted the door latch.

  “Ah,” he muttered with a taut smile. It begins.

  The latch squeaked, sounding unnaturally loud in the silent building. Rob opened one eye and saw her poised on the threshold, candle in hand, looking ready to flee if he stirred. Obligingly he closed his eye again and manufactured a series of gentle snores. Apparently satisfied that she hadn’t disturbed him, she emitted a soft sigh as she closed the door soundlessly behind her. One eye again open, Rob watched her put her candle down, well clear of the bed, and examine the room.

  She moved towards a small desk in the corner and rifled through the papers Rob had left for her to find. They didn’t detain her for long. She turned in a tight circle, nibbling the end of her index finger as she tried to decide where next to search. She’d hardly spared a glance for the bed and appeared to be deliberately avoiding it. As she rummaged carefully through his valise, Rob saw a profusion of dark curls escaping from a long braid and a slim yet curvaceous body beneath a high-necked gown. Unfortunately, that was all be could see without revealing his conscious state.

  Finally, she approached the bed. Eyes closed again, Rob heard her gasp. Obviously she’d seen the pouch. The scent of gardenias pervaded as he sensed her leaning towards him. When she didn’t immediately reach for the pouch he would have given much to know what she was doing.

  Making sure he really was asleep, presumably, since something about him obviously engaged her attention. She stood there for a long time, and Rob was sure he could feel the warmth of her gaze focused on his face, the lightness of her breath peppering his naked torso. Had she undergone a last-minute change of heart? He willed her to continue with her thieving intent. How else could he find out what she was up to? The desire to open his eyes and look at her face grew steadily more urgent, and Rob was hard-pressed to remain in his supposedly unconscious state.

  Come on, contessa. I don’t bite.

  Eventually Rob felt the pillow move, his cue to open both eyes. Before she could react, he snaked out an arm, caught her round the waist and tumbled her down on top of him.

  “Arghhh, what do you think you’re doing?”

  Rob elevated a brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

  Chapter Two

  “I...I must have the wrong room.”

  Rob chuckled. “I disagree.”

  “I’ve made a mistake. Release me, if you please, and I’ll no longer disturb you.”

  Too late for that. “I’m not in the least disturbed by your charming visit.”

  “This is most unseemly.”

  “Hmm, yes it is.”

  Her breasts pressed firmly against his bare chest as Rob continued to pin her against him with just one arm. She tried to escape but her struggles only served to emphasise the thrilling contrast between her soft, inviting curves and the hard planes of his own body. He enjoyed the feeling in a masochistic sort of way and was in no hurry to let her go, even if she was nothing more than a common thief working for his country’s enemies. He would do well to remember that.

  Their gazes locked, her remarkable eyes flared with awareness and she abruptly stopped fighting him. The rapidity of her breathing increased, she ran the tip of her tongue several times over her lower lip and swallowed hard. Rob perfectly understood her discomposure since he was similarly afflicted. He’d heard much about her skill as a chess player, as well as her fiery, independent spirit. Reputedly she was determined to live her life on her own terms, regardless of the men who tried to control it, which couldn’t be easy for her. Before he’d discovered her true purpose in visiting England, he’d been predisposed to admire her for those qualities alone. What had taken him completely unawares was her quite extraordinary beauty.

  Her hair, almost but not quite black, had escaped from its long braid and cascaded over her face in a riot of soft curls. Even in the dimness of his chamber Rob could see that her complexion was flawless yet naturally dark, as befitted a native of the Mediterranean. Her features were quite exquisitely placed and Rob could imagine artists fighting duels for the privilege of capturing her image on canvas.

  Her heart-shaped face was home to a smooth forehead, a small nose that turned up slightly at its end, a delicate chin and a wide, lush mouth. Her lips, shiny and full, cried out to be kissed. Her teeth were even and white and her cheekbones dramatically high. But it was her eyes that held Rob’s attention. A most unusual shade of amber flecked with gold, they flashed at him with a combination of anxiety and passion.

  God’s teeth, he was in trouble! He should have listened to Bowker and not let the contessa anywhere near him.

  “Let me go this minute!” she demanded.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “You’re no gentleman.”

  Rob flashed a wolfish grin. “How else would you have me react?”

  “Oh, you’re insufferable!”

  Rob chuckled. “Is that the best insult you can manage?”

  “This is...is totally inappropriate.”

  “Then you must tell me how to behave more appropriately. When a lady enters my bedchamber, you see, she usually does so with only one purpose in mind.”

  “Don’t mistake me for one of your doxies.”

  Rob affected surprise. “You came here for some other purpose?”

  Sparks flew from her eyes, her outrage almost but not quite convincing. She really shouldn’t look at him like that and only had herself to blame for what was about to follow. Rob was completely aroused. As a widow she must know what pressed into her stomach through the thin protection of the coverlet. Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps as she continued to hold his gaze. Better yet, her gloriously diverse expressions caused Rob to suspect that she was conducting an inner battle with herself. She enjoyed being held by him, enjoyed the feel of his tumescence, but probably didn’t think she ought to.

  “Please let me go,” she said without much conviction.

  “Absolutely, but not quite yet.”

  Rob raised his head to close the miniscule distance that separated them and claimed her sweet lips in a searing kiss. Her mouth remained passive beneath his, but she didn’t try to turn her head away. He persevered, kissing her ruthlessly as passion surged through his veins, driving him on. He was determined to extract some sort of reaction from her, even if it was one of abhorrence. He swept her mouth with seductive strokes of his tongue until her lips parted and she tentatively returned his kiss. Empowered by her capitulation, he worked his tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers in a fusion of mutual desire.

  God’s beard, she was more tempting than she had any right to be! This absolutely couldn’t continue. Unsure i
f he’d be able to maintain control for much longer, common sense overcame his raging lust and a soft gurgle of complaint escaped her when he broke the kiss. It was swiftly followed by a sharp blow to the side of his face, delivered with the flat of her hand.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I hate to disagree with a lady, but you’re quite wrong.”

  “Of all the arrogant, presumptuous, ungentlemanly—”

  “Don’t be dishonest with yourself, sweet nameless lady of the night,” he whispered. “You enjoyed my kiss almost as much as I enjoyed kissing you.”

  She tossed her head. “You flatter yourself.”

  “Why are you really here?”

  “I told you. I thought this was my room. Mine must be on the other side of the corridor.”

  “You always wander about posting inns in the middle of the night?”

  “My reason for leaving my chamber is no business of yours.”

  “Ah.” Rob was enjoying the exchange enormously, especially since he still held her on top of him. He could appreciate the feel of her breasts pressing against him each time she drew in an indignant breath and then expelled it again. “Now I understand. You must be returning from an assignation with some fortunate gentlemen. You so enjoyed his attentions that your sense of direction deserted you.”

  “No, of course not, I—”

  “He can’t be very gallant if he leaves you to find your way back alone.”

  “More gallant that you are. At least he didn’t force his kisses on me. Nor did he compel me to lie on top...”

  A few Italian oaths slipped past her lips before her words tumbled to a halt. It was too dark to be sure but Rob would have bet half his fortune that she was blushing furiously, having just condemned herself with her own lips.

  “You don’t care to lie on top of me so soon after being with your lover, signora? I understand completely.”

  She inhaled sharply. “Why do you call me that?”