"I'm Lee," she whispered, hating herself for the mess she had made of this. "I won't be… won't be Vermillion till the night of my birthday."

Caleb stared down at her, his dark gaze turbulent. "I don't believe this." Swearing a silent oath, he released her wrists, rolled onto his side, and gathered her into his arms. "God, why didn't you tell me?"

Lee hung on to him, wishing she had done just that. "I was afraid to. I didn't know what you would think."

He clenched his jaw and said something she couldn't quite hear. "How badly did I hurt you?"

She loved the feel of his arms around her, felt grateful for them. She shook her head, tried to smile. "The pain is gone. I'm told it only hurts the first time."

He took a deep breath, slowly exhaled it. "I thought I knew why you came here tonight. Now I'm not so sure."

She rested her head on his chest, comforted by the steady rhythm of his heart. "You were right. I came for this. I wanted a man of my own choosing. I wish I had pleased you, Caleb, and I know that I did not."

He caught her chin with his fingers. "You pleased me. Just by coming here, you pleased me. By choosing me as that man. I only wish I'd known. Now that I do, I'm not sure—"

"Please, Caleb. I want this."

He sighed into the dimly lit room, raked his damp hair back from his forehead. "We'll just have to take things slower. I'll make it good for you, Lee, I promise." Bending his head, Caleb leaned over and very softly settled his mouth over hers. It was another of his slow, languid, unhurried kisses and the heat he had stirred before flamed up and licked through her limbs.

He touched her as he had before, his fingers sliding inside her, stretching her and preparing her to accept him. He didn't stop until she was writhing on the bed, flushed with desire, and begging him to take her. He slid into her more easily this time, filling her completely, yet the pain never surfaced, only the craving, the wild, uncontrollable yearning.

Beneath him on the narrow bed, her restlessness grew and her body shifted against the heavy fullness inside her. Unconsciously, her back arched upward, thrusting her breasts into his chest. She pressed her mouth against his skin, felt the heat, tasted the slick, damp, saltiness of it, circled his flat copper nipple with her tongue, and heard him groan.

He went still for a moment, trying to hold himself in check, working to regain his control. Then he started moving again, easing himself out, then driving deep once more. Slow and easy, muscles straining, drawing out the pleasure. His movements grew faster, his hips flexing, driving him deeper still. The rhythm increased, enveloped her, the heavy thrust and drag, the fullness, the pressure against her womb, the heat and the need and the overwhelming sense of urgency.

Then her body suddenly tightened and a wave of pleasure tore through her. Little shivers rushed over her skin. Tiny pinpricks of light seemed to burst behind her eyes. Her insides tingled and she cried out Caleb's name.

"That's right, love. Let yourself go."

She heard a roaring in her ears like the wind through the trees and her body seemed to fly apart. "Caleb!" She bit down on her lip as pleasure speared through her, sweeter than anything she could have imagined. She clung to Caleb's neck as he pounded into her, taking her hard, unable to stop himself. An instant later, his body went rigid, his muscles tightening. He tried to withdraw, but she wasn't ready for that and she gripped his hips, felt the wetness of his seed spilling inside her. His head fell back and a low guttural groan filled the quiet of the room.

For long moments, neither of them spoke. Eventually their heartbeats slowed and Caleb shifted a little on the mattress, then lay down on the blanket beside her, fitting her back to his chest spoon-fashion in the narrow bed.

He toyed with a lock of her hair. "I can't believe it. You were a virgin." He smoothed the strand between his thumb and forefinger. "In God's name, why did you pretend to be something you were not?"

Lee sighed into the darkness. "It's hard to explain, Caleb." She turned onto her back so that she could look up at him, into the dark eyes he fixed on her face. "I told you once before—I'm a Durant. It's my destiny to follow in the footsteps of my grandmother and aunt."

In the moonlight, she saw a muscle tighten along his jaw. "You were a virgin," he stubbornly repeated. "Why would you choose that sort of life?"

Lee turned toward him, wound her arms around his neck. "Please… I don't want to talk about this now." She pulled his head down and gave him a feather-soft kiss. "You want me," she whispered. "I can feel how hard you are."

"I get hard every time I look at you. If you hadn't been so innocent you would have figured that out long before this."

She flushed but didn't look away. "My birthday isn't that far off. We won't have much time together. I want you to make love to me again."

Several emotions flickered in his eyes, but the heat was clear to see. He kissed her deeply, then a corner of his mouth edged up. "I suppose, since you're my employer, I'm compelled to do as you say."

Lee closed her eyes as he came up over her, filling her again. Very slowly, he started to move inside her. Clinging to the muscles across his shoulders, she let him sweep her into the world of pleasure that he had shown her before.

She didn't linger when they finished this time, just got up from the narrow mattress, walked over and silently began to pull on her clothes. She could feel Caleb's eyes on her, watching her from the bed.

"Make me understand, Lee." His deep voice drifted across the small, low-ceilinged room. "Tell me why you would sacrifice your life, your future, as you are planning to do."

She only shook her head. "You wouldn't understand."

She heard the rustle of fabric as he sat up on the edge of the bed and wrapped the blanket around his waist. "It wouldn't have anything to do with loyalty, would it? Some sort of patriotic sentiment you still feel toward France? I know your family came from there."

She frowned as she pushed her arms into the sleeves of her nightgown and tied the drawstring at the neck. "I don't know what you mean."

Caleb shrugged. Bare-chested, he tucked the top of the blanket in to hold it up and started walking toward her. In the moonlight, she noticed a fine tension in the muscles across his shoulders.

"I've heard rumors," he said. "There are people who say you and your aunt hold certain loyalties toward the French. It would certainly be understandable if you were willing to sacrifice yourself in order to collect information that might be helpful—"

"If you are saying what I think you are, that is completely insane. I was born in this country—so was my aunt. We both love England. This is our home. Every time we read in the papers how many of our men have died, how many have suffered at Napoleon's hands, we are heartsick. As for any loyalty I might feel toward the French—for God's sake, Caleb, a number of my family died by the guillotine. England gave us refuge. How can you possibly doubt our loyalty?"

Caleb said nothing for several long moments, but his eyes ran over her, taking in her defiant stance, the way her small hands fisted, the flush of color in her cheeks, and the tension slowly ebbed from his shoulders. He stood in front of her, barefoot and bare-chested and so handsome it made an ache rise in her throat.

"Why then?" he said softly.

Lee glanced away, unable to hold his penetrating gaze a moment more. "Because it's what Aunt Gabby wants. Because I owe her and I can't repay her in any other way. Because she loves the life she lives and through me she can continue to live it. Because I don't want to return her years of kindness by making her believe I feel disdain in any way for the life she has chosen."

Caleb said nothing. He stood so close she could see the dark centers of his eyes, read the turbulence there. Then his big hands framed her face and he bent his head and very softly kissed her.

"Don't go yet," he said. "There are hours before dawn. I'll make sure you're back in the house before anyone wakes up and finds you missing."

She knew she should go. Every moment she spent with Caleb put her in peril. Love. It was the greatest danger a woman could face. Mary had suffered for it. Her mother had suffered for years and died with a broken heart that had never mended.

Lee looked up at Caleb, knowing the risk, knowing part of her heart already belonged to him. Willing to accept the risk, even if it meant losing an even bigger portion during the short time they had together.

Caleb took her hand and carried it to his lips. She didn't resist when he lifted her up and carried her across the room, back to his narrow bed.






11


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Mounted on the big bay gelding named Duke, Caleb rode toward the village of Parkwood. It was early afternoon, the first chance he'd had to get away. The village wasn't far. As he approached from the south, he could see roofs and chimneys in the distance. He passed a wagonload of hay and the driver waved a greeting. A pot-seller's wagon rumbled along ahead of him, its cargo clanging and clattering as the vehicle dipped and swayed behind the donkey struggling to pull its heavy load. Caleb barely noticed.

He was on his way to the house on the opposite side of town that belonged to Cyrus Swift, the silversmith who carried messages for him to London. The one he needed delivered today concerned Vermillion.

Since he had awakened her from a deep sleep snuggled beside him, Caleb hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. Over and over, he replayed the night they had shared, which was nothing at all as he had imagined and one he would never forget. As he reined the horse off the road onto the lane leading to the silversmith's house, one thing was clear: Vermillion hadn't been selling her body to gain information.