He made a soft sound like a groan and cupped her buttocks, pulling her tightly against him. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, perhaps even more. The knowledge gave her a feeling of power. He had started this, so it was her choice when to end it. But not just yet, not when his touch was searing away the cold and loneliness.

She gasped involuntarily when he caressed her breast. Her nipple tightened and a heated tide began flowing through her limbs. He began to unfasten the buttons of her shirt. The way her breasts ached for his touch told her that she dared not let this continue, or she would be urging him to the bed. After an instant to collect her strength, she spun away, putting half a dozen feet between them before he had time to react.

He moved to come after her, his face raw with longing. She stopped him with a sharp chop of her hand that was unmistakable dismissal. In her coolest voice, she said, "It's a nuisance to be attracted to a person one doesn't particularly like, but that can be used to help our masquerade. If you look at me like that in public, no one will realize that our affair is pretense."

Rafe stopped in his tracks. In the instant before his controlled mask clamped into place, she saw anger, and perhaps reluctant admiration, in his eyes.

Neither of those emotions showed in his voice when he said with matching coolness, "If you react like that the next time I kiss you, the affair will become quite genuine."

"I won't deny that I find you attractive, but passion is not my master, so you had better accustom yourself to frustration." She smiled maliciously. "If you think that being with me will put too great a strain on your self-control, I suggest that you make arrangements with one of the hotel chambermaids. No doubt one of them will be happy to relieve your frustration."

"I can do better than a chambermaid," he said dryly. "And don't worry about my self-control. I have yet to meet a woman who could turn me into a lust-crazed savage."

Deciding that it was time to conclude her business, she pulled a paper from an inside pocket and handed it to him. "Here are the names and descriptions of seven other men who are possible suspects. Read it and destroy it before you go out tomorrow morning. I didn't mention them because I don't want to confuse you with too much information, but all should be observed carefully if you chance to meet one."

Rafe glanced at the paper. Sorbon, Dietrich, Lemercier, Dreyfus, Taine, Sibour, and Montcan. He set the list aside to study later.

Maggie said, "There's a reception tomorrow night at the British Embassy to honor the Prussian delegation. Von Fehrenbach will be there, so we should go. I live at 17 Boulevard des Capucines. Can you call for me about eight o'clock?"

"I'll be there. Try to be punctual." Unable to resist asking a question that had been nagging him, Rafe added, "Incidentally, what does your husband think of your activities?"

"My what?"

"Count Janos, of course."

The tension in the room eased as Maggie's eyes began to brim with laughter. "Oh, my darling Andrei!" She clasped her hands before her heart and gave a nostalgic flutter of her lashes. "He was matchless. Utterly beautiful in his Hussar uniform, and such a pair of shoulders!"

"Is the matchless count still among the living?"

"Alas, his noble life was lost at the Battle of Leipzig. Or perhaps it was at Austerlitz."

"Those battles were nine years apart," he pointed out. "Did you misplace him for all that time, or merely decide that you didn't suit?"

Maggie waved her hand airily and lifted her cloak, swirling the dark folds around her shoulders. "Ah, well, they say that spending too much time together is bad for a marriage."

"Do they, indeed?" he said with dry humor. "Why do I have the feeling that you are no more a countess than I am?"

Maggie was heading toward the window, but she flashed an impish smile over her shoulder. "I, at least, have the possibility of becoming a countess, which is more than you can say," she said flippantly.

As she pushed the drapery aside, Rafe said, "Wouldn't it be easier to leave by the doorway?"

"Easier," she admitted, "but I have a reputation to maintain. Good night, your grace." As her dark figure slipped behind the draperies, a faint breeze eddied into the room.

Rafe strolled to the window and looked out. She had vanished, but there were stout vines growing up the wall. It would present no great challenge to an active person.

He shook his head in amusement and dropped the drapery. She was a beguiling witch who wanted to drive him mad, but two could play at that game. His lips curved into a smile. She might think that she was too strong to be swept away by passion, but he was not so sure.

It promised to be a most interesting few weeks.


* * *

The Englishman had been blindfolded for his trip through the Paris streets, and he suspected that the carriage had driven in circles to confuse him. His jaw clenched whenever he thought about the upcoming meeting. The man who had summoned him was known only as Le Serpent. Like the snake he was named for, he was regarded with fear and loathing by those few people who knew of his existence. The Englishman knew it was dangerous to make Le Serpent's acquaintance, but without risk there would be no reward.

The shabby hackney rumbled to a halt. How long had they been circling-fifteen minutes? Thirty? Time was hard to judge when one was helpless.

A whiff of fresher air entered the malodorous hackney when the door opened. The silent escort grasped the Englishman's upper arm and jerked him out of the carriage and across a narrow strip of pavement, indifferent to the fact that his blindfolded charge stumbled and nearly fell.

They entered a building, descended a closed stairway, then walked along a narrow, echoing passage. After a very long walk and a climb up more stairs, the escort stopped. There was the sound of a turning knob, then the Englishman was thrust into a room. He raised one hand to remove the blindfold, but stopped at the sound of a sibilant voice that was clearly disguised.

"I would not advise you to do that, mon Anglais. If you saw my face, I should have to kill you. That would be a great waste, for I have better uses for you."

The Englishman dropped his hand, demoralized by being blind and alone. It was impossible even to guess the nationality of his dangerous employer; considering what a political stew Paris was, the bloody man could be anything.

Trying to sound confident, the Englishman said, "Don't waste my time with threats, Le Serpent. You must like the information I give you, or you would not be paying me for it. And you must want more, or you wouldn't have asked to meet me in person for the first time."

There was a throaty chuckle. "The tidbits you gave me in the past were useful, but they were trivial compared to what I need from you now. Over the next few weeks, I want complete information on the movements of Lord Castlereagh and the Duke Of Wellington, plus daily reports on what the delegation is doing."

"I'm not in a position to know all of that."

"Then find someone who is, mon Anglais."

The menace in the silky tone was unmistakable. Not for the first time, the Englishman wished he had never gotten involved in this. But it was too late for regret: Le Serpent knew far too much about him. Wanting to put the best face on this, he said, "It will cost extra to learn more. Most of the staff won't talk at all, and those who do are expensive."

"You will be reimbursed for expenses, as long as they are legitimate. I will not pay for your whores and gambling."

Sweat formed under the blindfold as the Englishman wondered if Le Serpent knew about the money skimmed from the sum provided to pay lesser informants. It had been unwise to appropriate some for his own use, but if he hadn't paid that particular gambling debt, he might have lost his position with the delegation. Tersely he said, "You need have no fears on that score."

"How comforting," Le Serpent said with unmistakable irony. "Send your reports the usual way. Remember, I want daily information, for matters are becoming critical. You will be informed when I need to see you igain. Now go."

As the escort came and led him from the room, the Englishman speculated about what was brewing. If he knew what Le Serpent had in mind, the information could be very valuable.

The danger lay in the fact that he wouldn't know where to sell it unless he discovered who the snake was. But when was profit without danger?

Chapter 5

After Inge had dressed her for the reception, Maggie dismissed the maid and studied her reflection with clinical detachment. She wore a striking coral pink gown that guaranteed that she would be noticed. Gold chains wound around her neck, and her shining hair was twisted into an elaborate knot high on her head.

Thinking that she looked too formal, she loosened a single ringlet. It drifted delicately across the bare skin of one shoulder in a subtle invitation for a man to wonder what it would be like for his lips to trace the same path.

She gave a nod of satisfaction; she had found the perfect balance between lady and trollop.

It wasn't yet eight o'clock, which gave her time to think about Rafe. It was important to understand her feelings before they began their charade, because she found that her emotions fluctuated wildly when she was near him. She kept swinging from exasperation to anger to amusement, and that was dangerous. The project they were undertaking was too important to be endangered by personal issues.