Her eyes looked troubled and such a deep shade of aqua he could have gotten lost in them. "If it's true, who do you think is responsible?" She glanced down at the desk, realized why he had been going through the drawers. "If you're confiding this information to me, then you don't think I am the traitor." Her head came up. "Tell me you don't believe the traitor is Aunt Gabby."

He wished he could. He wished he knew a lot more than he did. "I don't know who it is. That's what I'm trying to find out."

"Is Major Sutton also here for that reason?"

"Yes." But he hadn't told the major his intention to visit the study. He didn't like the man. In some strange way, he didn't trust him.

"My aunt is a loyal Englishwoman. She would never betray her country."

"Then help me prove it. Help me find out who is."

She said nothing for the longest time. "Is that the reason you wanted to talk to me tonight?"

"No. The matter I wish to discuss is personal."

She turned away before he could say anything more in that regard and he thought maybe it was better that he didn't. Not yet. She didn't trust him. Not anymore. She wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. Perhaps she never would be.

He watched her walk, stiff-backed to the door, then stop and turn. "Don't bother coming to my room. The door will be locked." She left the study as silently as she had entered. Though he never heard a sound, he knew she had escaped down the hall.


It was late. Lee couldn't sleep. The night was overly warm and though a breeze blew in through the open windows, the sheets felt warm and sticky against her skin. The gilded clock on the mantel chimed four. Downstairs, the last of the guests had finally succumbed to fatigue and wearily climbed the stairs to their beds. Not all of them slept alone.

Lee tried not to think about that. She tried not to think about Caleb and finding him there in the study. It was only by chance that she had. Her destination had been the library. She needed a moment, just a little time away from the laughter and gaiety that seemed to grate on her nerves. But when she reached the tall ornate doors and heard the moans and giggles coming from the opposite side, she continued down the hall to the study instead.

She hadn't expected to find Caleb there, searching through Parklands' private records, hadn't thought to catch him in another of his lies.

Lee punched her pillow and tried to get comfortable, but her nightgown wrapped around her legs and the cotton fabric stuck to her skin. She sat up in bed, defiantly pulled the garment off over her head, and tossed it across the room. She pulled the ribbon from the end of her braid and raked her fingers through her hair, let the breeze through the open balcony doors flow over her naked skin. Moonlight slanted in, giving the room a soft glow.

Her restlessness increased, became nearly unbearable. Wrapping the sheet around her, she slid out of the bed and started toward the balcony. A noise behind the filmy curtains drew her attention to the door and she paused. The curtains fluttered. She should have been surprised to see Caleb walk into the room but somehow she wasn't.

She pulled the sheet a little tighter around her and wondered if he had watched her undress. "Do you ever take no for an answer?"

"Not very often." He was wearing dark brown breeches and a white lawn shirt, rather like the clothes he had worn as a groom, but the tall black Hessians were those of a soldier.

"I told you I'm not one of your men. I don't have to obey your commands."

"But you will keep silent about the things I told you in the study."

If he was telling the truth, men's lives were at stake. "I wouldn't want to see any more of our soldiers die unnecessarily. I won't repeat what you said."

He took a step toward her, but she took a step away. "Why are you here? Do you have another lie you wish to confess?"

Caleb shook his head. "I'm through lying. I told you that before."

"Then tell me why you've come." His eyes ran over her. She could feel the heat in them and little prickles ran over her skin.

"Why did you take off your clothes?"

Heat infused her cheeks. He had been watching. "Because it's a hot night and I thought I was alone."

"Or perhaps because it's a hot night and you were alone and you hoped that I would come. Perhaps you wanted the same thing I find myself wanting right now."

He took a step toward her. She turned to flee but one of his boots pinned the bottom of the sheet to the floor. To escape she would have to abandon the sheet and she refused to do that.

Instead she turned to face him. "Get out of my room, Caleb."

"Not yet. There's something I need to know before I leave."

He moved in that silent way he had and suddenly he was standing so close she could see the black centers of his eyes. He caught her waist and pulled her even closer. The protest she was about to make died in her throat as his mouth crushed down over hers.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was fierce and demanding, ruthlessly possessive, and it made her hot all over. He kissed her until her knees felt weak, until her fingers curled into the front of his shirt and she was trembling, making little mewling sounds in her throat and whimpering his name.

"God, I've missed you." He kissed her throat, kissed her naked shoulder, shoved the sheet down and kissed her naked breasts. She swayed toward him as his mouth closed over a nipple and he sucked hard on the end. She didn't resist when he stripped away the sheet and ran his hands over her body, down over her hips. A hard thigh wedged between her legs and she moaned when he lifted her a little, rocked her against him, forced her to ride him.

She was wet. So hot and wet. She needed to touch him, feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of his chest. She tugged his shirt free of his breeches and he dragged it off over his head and tossed it away, then returned to kissing her again. His hands moved lower, cupping her bottom, his fingers sliding between the globes, lower, parting the folds of her sex and stroking her there. Heat and need washed over her, making her tremble, making her slick and hot and desperate to feel him inside her.

She didn't protest when he lifted her up and carried her over to the bed, settled her on the edge of the deep feather mattress.

He didn't take time to get rid of his clothes, just opened the front of his breeches and freed himself, guided his hardness to the entrance of her passage, and drove himself home.

His head fell back and for a moment he paused. "Sweet God, I've never known a woman who could make me feel the way you do." The softly spoken words sent a fine tremor through her. Caleb kissed her again, as wildly as before, and she clung to his neck. He filled her completely, eased out, then drove hard inside, gripped her hips and began a rhythmic thrusting that had her arching up from the bed.

The heat in the room increased. Skin met skin, slick and damp, until their bodies glistened with perspiration and the blood in her veins began to burn.

"Caleb," she whispered, her fingers digging into the muscles across his shoulders. "Dear God, Caleb!"

He kissed her deeply, his mouth absorbing her soft little cries of pleasure. The beating of sweat-slick flesh matched the rhythm of his relentless thrusts, and her nails scored the skin on his back. When her climax hit, it came swift and hard. Pleasure washed over her, thick and fierce and sweeter than ever before.

Caleb reached release an instant later, but she barely noticed, was only faintly aware of his heavy weight lifting off her. He scooped the sheet up off the floor and floated it over her, then buttoned the front of his breeches and sat down beside her, bare-chested, on the edge of the bed.

She smiled up at him contentedly as he reached out and ran a finger down her cheek.

"I found out what I needed to know."

The covers slipped. She yanked them up again and sat up in the bed, the fuzzy lethargy beginning to disappear from her head. "What… what are you talking about?"

"I wanted to know if it would be the same… if it was as good between us as I remembered."

Her chin inched up. "Was it?"

"Better." He reached out and caught her chin, leaned down, and lightly kissed her. "I know a lot has happened. If we had more time, I wouldn't press you. But your birthday's coming up. I know what I'm asking isn't fair. I know it won't be long before I'll have to go back to Spain, but…"

"But what?"

"But what we have together… when men and women make love, Lee, it isn't always the way it is with us."

She knew that. She was in love with him. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else.

"The night of your birthday, you've vowed to choose a protector. I was hoping… Lee, I want you to pick me."

She said nothing. For a fleeting moment, she had actually imagined he might offer marriage. It was impossible. No man of his station would marry so far beneath him, and in truth, she didn't want marriage either.

She knew what married life meant—at least for a woman. She only had to think of Elizabeth Sorenson. She only had to look at the dozens of men who came to Parklands—most of whom were married.

"I can't do that."

His soft look faded. "If you're worried about money, I assure you I have more than enough. My grandfather left me a very tidy fortune. You won't want for anything—I can promise you that."

"I don't need your money. Surely you know that by now."

"Then why won't you agree?" The muscles went rigid across his bare shoulders. "Or perhaps you've decided to broaden your education? Perhaps you think Mondale or Colonel Wingate can teach you something I can't. If that is the case, rest assured, we have only just—"