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Authors: Karen Hawkins

Tags: #Historical romance, #Fiction

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BOOK: A Most Dangerous Profession
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“Hold,
ma chère
.” He sat down and tugged off his boots, then stood.

She had his jacket off his shoulders in an instant. Laughing softly, he yanked off his cravat and sent it sailing. The rest of his clothes soon followed.

Now naked, Robert slipped an arm about Moira’s waist and fell back upon the bed, taking her with him. He captured her lips and kissed her
with abandon, delighting in her rapid breathing, flushed skin, and passion-darkened eyes. God, he loved being with a woman who enjoyed lovemaking. They had been apart for too long, and the fire between them burned too hotly for anything less than an explosive consummation.

She wriggled on him and murmured against his ear, “You feel so
good
.”

“As do you.” His hands roamed from her shoulders, down her back, to her waist, and then lower, cupping her against him.

She needed no more encouragement. She opened her legs, and he gasped at the intensity of the feeling as she slowly engulfed his turgid cock. She planted her hands on the mattress on either side of his head and moved urgently up and down, hot and slick.

Robert grabbed her waist, trying to slow her down. He wouldn’t last much longer if she continued so. He lifted his hips slowly, and then planted himself deeply inside her.

She threw her head back with a gasp. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she cried his name, succumbing to deep shudders of pleasure.

Sweat beaded Robert’s forehead as he struggled for control, aching for release. When Moira slumped against him, he rolled atop of her, never
breaking contact. Her legs locked behind the small of his back, and Robert began to move inside her, his gaze locked on her face. Her eyes were closed, ecstasy written on her lovely features as she moved with him, rocking her hips up to meet his thrusts. Her creamy skin was flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses. Every delicious inch of her belonged to
him
.

The intoxicating thought urged him on. Faster and faster he went, Moira’s lips parting, her breath quickening. His heart thundered, his body damp as he drove into her again and again.

She suddenly arched under him, clutching his shoulders as she gasped his name, and Robert shuddered as a wave of heat tore through him. At the last second, he lifted himself free and rolled away as his passion spilled.

The mind-numbing pleasure left him gasping for breath. Moira lay on her back next to him, her palm on his chest. He realized one of his hands rested on her thigh, which quivered beneath his fingers.

Moira sighed deeply. “That was long overdue, my love.”

“Yes.”

They lay there as their breathing and their bodies slowly returned to normal. Robert couldn’t
think of a moment when he’d felt more sated. The sun warmed them pleasantly as the comforting sounds of dishes being set out in the common room below drifted into their room. Moira’s lavender scent soothed him and he realized that if not for his concern for Rowena it would be easy to stay here and forget the world.

But there was no forgetting Rowena.

Moira evidently was thinking the same thing, for she rolled up on her elbow, her expression serious. “If we’re to present the façade of a married couple to Ross, then this sort of thing is a good idea.”

He laughed. “You’re right.” With a playful kiss on her nose, he rose to fetch one of the cloths on the washstand. He cleaned himself, then wet a clean cloth for her.

She thanked him while he went to pick up his clothes. “This cravat is ruined. Buffon will be devastated.”

“I’m fairly certain my chemise will never be wearable again.”

“Then we’re even. My cravat for your chemise.”

“So long as it’s not your coat. I know how you prize them.” She tossed the cloth to the washstand, then sat up and pulled the sheet over her.

“They
are
specially made and very expensive.”
His eyes glinted with humor. “But if I had to make a choice between this and my best coats, the coats would lose.”

“I’m glad to know I’m thought so highly of.” Moira pushed her hair over her shoulder. “I would give up at least
two
chemises for this.”

He chuckled and began to dress. “We always were good together in bed.”

“Yes, we match well on that level.” She pulled her knees up and clasped her arms about them, the sheet smooth over her skin.

He watched her every move, his gaze still heated.

Why, he’s thinking about coming back to bed.
She scooted to one side, surprised at the way her body, which still hummed with pleasure, readied at the thought.

A regretful look crossed his face as he picked up his trousers and pulled them on. “I wish I could spend the morning in bed, but the servants will bring your bath soon. I also have a few horses to sell before we leave.”

“Oh?”

“I returned Aniston’s men, but I kept his horses.” Robert’s smile glinted. “I hope he needs them badly.” He pulled on his boots and then his coat.

She watched as he tossed the ruined cravat into a corner, then crossed to the wardrobe and removed his portmanteau to find another. His hair was mussed, his shirt open and loose, yet he still retained his air of fashion.

It is the way he carries himself, as if he doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks. There is no more powerful force than true unconcern.

He found a cravat and centered it about his neck, and then tied it with a few expert twists, securing it in place with a sapphire pin that matched his eyes. He tucked in his shirt, smoothed his waistcoat, and then ran his fingers through his dark hair.

She was a bit disgruntled that he could go from disheveled to perfection in such little time. It would take her several hours just to dry her hair.

He picked up his hat and opened the door. “I will return once I’ve seen to the sale of the horses. There’s a farmer nearby who the innkeeper believes is looking for some good stock, so I shouldn’t be long.”

Moira leaned back against the pillows. “I shall enjoy my bath and then join you for lunch.”

“Excellent.” With a bow and a smoldering look at her, he was gone.

She listened to his booted feet go down the hall.
Soon after, his deep voice rang through the courtyard as he called to his groom.

Sighing, she snuggled into the pillows, her body aching pleasantly.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but at least she was no longer fighting this battle alone.

C
HAPTER 13

Michael Hurst’s diary, on hearing that his brother William is on his way.

I received word that William is to arrive within the month to secure my release. It’s about bloody time. I’ve things to do, damn it!

While my lodgings are luxurious, I’ve been forced to endure the constant company of Miss Smythe-Haughton, which—because of my lack of female companionship—has caused me some discomfort.

Something rather odd happened last night. My assistant spent the afternoon in the harem, gathering information to help negotiate my release. Little did I know she was also using that time to learn the ways of the harem, including dressing in such a way that—well, I hardly know how to describe it.

I did not appreciate the way the sulfi began to look at her when she appeared so attired, and I now worry that more trouble is on the way. While the sulfi may allow
me
to go free once the box has been delivered, I’m not certain he’ll do the same for Miss Smythe-Haughton.

T
he coach hit a rut in the muddy road and Moira winced as her knee banged against the edge of the opposite seat. “Ow! I hope we arrive soon.”

Robert planted a foot against the seat Moira occupied to steady himself. “We’re only a few miles from the inn where Ross said his agent would await me.”

“Thank goodness. I’ll be black and blue if the road gets any worse.”

As if Stewart could hear her, the coach slowed and the rocking subsided.

Robert pushed back the leather curtain that covered the coach window. “The road is stone covered now and should be smoother.” He peered into the distance and said with satisfaction, “We’re beginning to climb, so we must be entering the mountains now.”

Moira looked out the window, amazed at how the vista had changed over the last few hours.
Instead of heather-covered moors, purple mountains rose before them, fronted by deep, green valleys with sparkling blue lochs. The road looked like a ribbon, twisting around each curve as it climbed. “I’ve never been this far north. Have you?”

“No.”

She nodded, lost in the beauty of the scenery. “It’s a different world from Craigentinny.”

He lifted a brow. “Is that your home?”

She shrugged and offered no more.

“That’s hardly fair, seeing as how I’ve told you everything—including the time when I was stung by bees while trying to spy upon the neighbor’s charming daughter.”

She laughed.

“If I can tell you the most embarrassing of my childhood exploits for your merriment, the least you can do is share the mundane aspects of your own life.”

Her lips twitched. “Fine. It’s not very interesting, though. When I found out I was with child, I purchased a small cottage in Craigentinny. It’s a pretty little hamlet an hour outside of Edinburgh.”

“Why there?”

“It’s close to where I was born, within a few miles of the mill my mother used to work at. It’s the closest thing I had to home.”

“I see.”

“The cottage I purchased has only five rooms, but it’s big enough for me and Rowena and a servant.”

“It sounds snug.”

A soft look crossed her face. “It is. Long ago, it was a hunting box for a local baron. There wasn’t even a roof on it when I bought it, just stone walls. But with the help of some local artisans, it’s now a very cozy little property.”

Moira hadn’t allowed herself to think about Claigsmore Cottage in the six months since Rowena had been stolen away; it hurt too much. But now, looking at the rolling land, it was hard not to think of her beloved home.

“I planted a small orchard behind the house. We’ve apple trees and a garden. Rowena is excited when it’s time to harvest—” A crystal-clear image of Rowena holding up a large apple and laughing hit Moira like a punch.
What if I never see her again? What if we don’t find the box? What if Aniston—

She fought against the runaway thoughts, trying hard to recapture her control over her emotions.

Robert watched as her lashes lowered to hide her expression, and he knew instantly what had happened. His throat tightened. He didn’t know what it was to love and then lose a child, but the
expression on her face gave him a glimpse. “Moira, we will get her back. I swear it.”

After a few more seconds, she gave a sharp nod. “I know we will.” The words sounded like a challenge.

I need to give her something else to focus on.
Robert crossed his arms and settled into his corner. “I do hope you’re able to stay focused on our task, and won’t be reduced to tears so often.”

She stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

“While I understand that you are upset, I hope it doesn’t infringe upon our project. Having no partner is better than having a distracted one.”

“I promise you that I will keep my emotions well in check. I usually do.”

“Sometimes . . .” He let the word trail off. “I’m sure you do the best you can.” He yawned. “I think I’ll take a nap. You should do the same.”

He could hear the anger in her silence. Her skirts rustled and she said in a flat voice, “I’m glad you can be so unconcerned that you can sleep.”

He covered his mouth and yawned again. “Oh, I’ll sleep well. Our little tryst this morning has left me a bit drained. I’m sure it made you feel the same.”

Her cheeks pinkened, but she said in a stubborn tone, “Robert, we should discuss what we’re going
to do once we meet Ross’s representative. If we wish to be a believable couple, then—”

“There’s nothing to discuss. I’ll tell them I’m there to fetch the box and that I brought my wife with me, which isn’t unusual. Especially when they see that my wife is a beautiful, passionate redhead.” He reached up to tweak his curtain closed, and then tipped his hat brim over his face. “It’ll be as easy as that.”

“But we must develop a history in case there are any questions.”

“I don’t plan on offering any details to Ross, so we don’t need to discuss anything. I will do the talking, you will beam at me like a good wife, and all will be well.”

Moira stiffened. “This is not how I define partnership.”

“We’re partners, just not equal ones. Someone has to be in charge, and I’ve been very clear that it will be me.” He dropped his chin to his chest. “We only have a short while before we reach our destination. If you want a nap, you’d better take one now.”

Moira glared at him. Did he really think she would sit back and allow him to boss her around? She’d thought she’d been very clear on that. “Robert, we have to—”

He snored. And not a real snore, either, but a pretend snore. His arms remained firmly crossed over his chest, his mouth—when not snoring—was closed, and even bore a faint smile.

Her brows lifted. He’d challenged her to give her something to think about other than Rowena. She didn’t need his assistance in keeping her emotions under control; she did that very well on her own.

BOOK: A Most Dangerous Profession
3.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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