Gabe’s stomach knotted in aggressive nervousness. Could the traitor have known that they were searching for the documents? Was Mary in danger? What of his and Mary’s cover identities? Or could someone else have reached the documents before they could return to get them? And if so, who had them, how could Gabe get his hands on them, and what the devil was he to say to Hydra?
He started at the light tug to his sleeve, or more accurately, the fission of disconcerting awareness that burned its way up his arm. He turned his troubled gaze to Mary.
“What?” he mouthed.
Mary tapped the lobe of her ear then pointed to the wall of books.
Ah yes, he thought. The voices. He crept over to the bookshelves and pressed his ear to the leather spines.
“…arranged this meeting. Very clever with the house party, it was an easy enough way to gather us all together without suspicion. But enough nonsense,” one man said. Damn, but it sounded like Hale. “We have all seen the documents, but what of the transfer?”
“Yes, yes! The transfer. Bit tricky, eh wot?”
Gabe’s startled gaze sought Mary’s. Mr. Piper!
“We’ve discussed it at length,” another voice said; this one smooth, cultured, and entirely arrogant. Lord Reddington.
Gabe barely suppressed the urge to look smug.
“And we’ve decided on London on Thursday next,” he continued. “Our contacts are already making the journey across the channel.”
“Enough time to conclude with this agreeable house party, eh wot?”
There was a hushed murmur and Gabe pressed his ear harder against the bookshelves.
“Indeed. What should we make of the new additions?” Hale said.
Mary tapped Gabe’s shoulder, then crooked her finger at him. Intrigued, Gabe sidled closer to where she knelt. She pointed toward the bookshelf and then Gabe saw what she had intended him to see. A crack! Just wide enough to peer through. He pressed his eye to the narrow opening, squinting the other. The light from the small room beyond affording him an excellent, albeit limited, view of the traitors.
Yes, Lord Reddington and Mr. Piper were indeed co-conspirators. But who were the rest? Was that Hale’s leg he saw from beneath the table?
“Miss White’s character is infallible.”
“She’s a whore, Reddington.” Hale said.
Gabe sensed Mary stiffening beside him. Interesting.
“I beg your pardon?” Reddington said, outraged. “That angel is—”
“I grant you, Reddington,” Hale continued, “she is as handsome as they come and talented in things far beyond my imagination, but she is a whore.”
“I say, Hale! She is—”
“You may argue over the virtue—or lack thereof—of Miss White another time. Tonight, we discuss business, eh wot? While I agree that Miss White is as simple as she is seductive, what of her paramour, Mr. Spencer?”
Gabe must admit that Mary played the part of the simple actress very well. But he knew Mary was anything but simple.
Again, another speaker mumbled inaudibly. Damn, but Gabe wished he could see the others at the table. Who were the other traitors? And what were they saying about him?
“I am not so certain on that score. He seems harmless enough,” Hale said.
More mumbling. Gabe tamped down on his irritation; it was imperative that he remained alert and did not allow his emotions to distract him.
“I concur,” Piper said. “Something about him screams ‘liar,’ wot, wot?”
Reddington grinned malevolently. “I would gladly remove him from our path.”
A hand waved through the air, the owner of said hand, however, was out of Gabe’s view. “You just want to take Miss White for yourself. Bastard.”
Who was that? Lord Kerr? Lord Boxton? Mr. Jackson? Blast. He couldn’t tell.
“If we will not eliminate the man, then at the very least we should continue to watch him, eh wot? Make a note of anything suspicious and let me know.”
“It is late, and I have a soft, young woman waiting for me in my warm bed. Let us move along.” Lord Hale picked up several pieces of parchment from the tabletop and gazed at each one in turn. “I must admit that your craftiness has well and truly surprised me. These documents are a testament to our strength. We will succeed if we remain united and focused.”
Gabe glanced down at Mary where she peeked through the crack below him. He knew she was taking mental note of what those documents looked like. Good girl.
“This meeting, where will it be?” Lord Hale continued to flip through the documents as he spoke. “Lord and Lady Sheffield are hosting a ball at their house in town on Thursday next. My damned wife demands my attendance…”
“A great many of us will be in attendance, as well. Quite the thing, eh wot?” Piper heaved a great sigh. “Very well. Thursday next after the ball, at the Crowned Pig’s Grunt.”
“Ugh,” the unknown man scoffed. “I do detest that place. Filth and rats everywhere.”
Hale slapped his hand hard on the table and Gabe could feel Mary flinch. “It is the only place!” He pointed his finger at the out of sight man, then roared, “I hear you complain once more and I’ll reach down that curst bothersome mouth and rip your throat out!”
Bloodthirsty blighter. Quick to temper, as well.
Several rumbled replies rose up through the small room, confusing Gabe as to who was speaking and how many men occupied the room. One man rose, his chair scraping across the wooden floor. Damn! He and Mary were about to be spotted!
Gabe gripped Mary’s hand and scrambled to find a place to hide. Mary pulled him to the study’s door, then silently pressed the latch and swung it open, leading Gabe through it before closing the door behind them.
They had no chance of fleeing down the long hall without being noticed when the traitors left the study.
Mary released his hand and felt her fingers along the wall in the hallway. Apparently satisfied with what she found, she pressed the wall, sliding a hidden panel open to reveal a linen cupboard.
Further scraping of chairs could be heard faintly from the hidden room and Gabe’s heart began to pound against his ribs. They had mere seconds before they were discovered!
They clambered into the small cupboard, the space only affording them enough room to stand with their fronts touching intimately. Gabe slid the panel closed, leaving them in total darkness.
Everything was silent, but for the huffs of their breaths and the thundering of his heart in his ears. He twisted his neck, aiming his ear toward the study across the hall, and listened for any sign that the traitors had left their hidden meeting room.
Then he heard it. A faint click followed by distinct footfalls and hushed voices.
He turned his head back toward Mary to make a motion for silence, but what he saw arrested him. Through the darkness of the small space, Mary’s grey eyes glittered with what Gabe could only interpret as desire. Desire fer me. It could just as easily have been fear or anxiousness, but Gabe was certain he saw need in her gaze.
Mary’s breath hitched, her breasts pressing firmly against his chest. Her gaze locked with his, and his body gave an answering tug of need. Lord knew how long it would be before they had a clear opening to escape this closet…and there was something that Gabriel was burning to do.
Quelling the urge to release a beastly growl, Gabe pressed his lips against hers.
This kiss was no less delicious than their last. As impossible as it was, she still tasted of sweet tea and lemon curd.
Her slender fingers stretched out and gripped his lapel, crushing the material within her tightly clenched fists.
Gabe cupped her jaw, running his thumb over her chin. With a gentle nudge, Mary opened for him, and Gabe slid his tongue between her teeth to dip inside the warmth of her mouth. Oh Lord, save me from this woman! His gut clenched, his skin tightened, and his cock veritably screamed for release. Instead, he dipped his tongue inside her molten mouth, lapping and tasting over and over again
Unable to assuage his need with just a kiss, Gabe covered her bombazine-clad breast with his hand and kneaded it through the fabric.
Oh yes! She responded in kind, running her hands over his chest and waist, pulling agitatedly at the fabric that separated them.
He fumbled with the material of her modest décolletage, tugging until he freed one glorious breast. Ah! Without torturing himself a moment further, he crouched to take her nipple deep into his mouth, as he had so desperately fantasized about doing.
Her fingers clenched, her nails digging deeply into the flesh on his side and the back of his neck, but she remained blessedly silent. He smiled against her breast before sucking in earnest. He sucked, nipped, licked, and scraped her with his teeth.
But he was still desperate for more. He wanted her. He needed her. He must have her.
Her hips undulated against the hard ridge of his tightly restrained erection, the motion sending his eyes rolling in the back of his head. And that was all the invitation he needed.
His frantic fingers trembled as he grabbed fistfuls of her skirt and lifted it higher. He grazed her thigh with the last handful of bombazine and Mary twitched. Good.
Moving his mouth back to hers, he set to work making her want him as damned much as he had grown to want her. And blast it, he wanted her more than any woman had made him want before.
* * *
Mary was lost, floating in a sea of passion. Gabriel made her feel things she had never thought possible for her to feel. She had always thought women silly when they spoke of such feelings of dizziness, swooning, and weakness in the knees. Now she found it not so silly. If Gabe and Mary had not been gripping each other as tightly as they were, Mary was certain that she would have been reduced to a puddle at Gabe’s feet at the very beginning of this interlude.
His hand brushed her thigh and her muscles twitched of their own accord. She was accustomed to bringing men to fulfillment, but never had she allowed a man to provide such a service for her. Most particularly in such perilous and, dare she say it, exhilarating circumstances. And with a man she… Well, she did not love Gabriel any longer, but evidently she held him in high enough regard to allow him to… Oh!
He slid his palm further up her thigh, until the tips of his fingers reached her mound. He pulled his lips from hers to move them to her ear. Nearly inaudibly he whispered, “Open for me, Mary. Please.”
Her body did as he bade, her legs spreading as far as they were able in such a confined space.
“Yes, Mary,” he hissed.
She tensed, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest, as he glided his fingers between her slippery folds.
“Easy,” he whispered.
But she couldn’t ease. A man—Gabe!—was touching her intimately, and it was oh, so pleasurable.
His fingers began to move, sliding up and down her cleft, around in circles, and repeating. The motion rhythmic and exceedingly hypnotic.
His mouth sought hers once more and she eagerly attached herself to him. The combination of sensations built tension within her, coiling and wrapping itself so tightly she could scarcely breathe.
She was frantic for more.
One of her hands still clutched at his neck, but with her free hand, she reached down to tug at the falls of his trousers. She must feel him, hold his thickness in her hand and give him the same thirst for gratification that she felt.
His breath caught as she worked him free, his eager manhood leaping happily into her palm.
One of Gabe’s fingers slid deep inside her, forcing her to break the kiss and her neck to arch on a silent cry of delight.
Finding an opportunity, Gabe slid his tongue up the side of her neck and along her jaw, sending a shiver down to her toes. She was damp, she was aching, oh goodness, she needed…
His fingers still worked, swirling and dipping. Her body trembled, but she forced herself to focus. She could not be alone in her pleasure; Gabe must join her.
Mimicking the motions of intercourse, she gripped him tighter and began a rhythm of her own; up, down, cup, up, down, cup. She felt him tense. He must be close, she could feel his strain.
His movements became fixated, his mouth fervent in his anxious desire to find release. Her own need had built to a fever pitch, his fingers playing her expertly. The coil tightened and tightened until, finally, it snapped.
An explosion of stars so bright as to be blinding burst behind her eyelids, her head fell back, and her mouth dropped open on a silent shout of ecstasy. She was far away, flying among the clouds high in the sky. Oh my word! How could something so sinful feel so, so good?
Gabe’s damp fingers grabbed at the back of her neck, pulling her mouth back to his, his hips pumping against her tightly fisted hand. Finally back to earth, Mary realized her blunder. As she found her pleasure, she had entirely forgotten about him.
She moved her hand faster and he quickly released her neck to fumble in his pocket. He removed a handkerchief and wrapped it around her hand just in time. He froze, his entire body stiffening as his member pulsed in her hand, his seed pumping into the kerchief.
The sound of their heavy breathing filled the cramped space, the smell of their mingled pleasure nearly overwhelming in its arousing intensity.
Awareness began to seep back into her mind, the hazy fog of their passion dissipating.
A loud thunk in the room across the hall brought her fully alert. Goodness, there was still someone there! Had they heard?
Gabriel must have heard it, as well, as he quickly buttoned his falls and fixed her skirts. Mary adjusted her bodice to cover her exposed bosom.
The clink of glasses echoed through the room.
“I must bid you goodnight, dear.” It was Lady Kerr’s voice.
“Yes, yes, goodnight,” Lord Kerr’s voice responded.
Had they only just entered the room or had they been in the meeting, as well? Mary wondered.
“Well, I had best be off to bed, as well,” that mysterious voice said.
Kerr grunted. “Be good to my wife, Boxton.”
Mary’s eyes widened as she turned her shocked gaze on Gabe. Boxton! She mouthed. Oh, this assignment certainly has been productive.
It was silent for several moments, but instinct told Mary to wait and listen longer.
A soft knock sounded against the open doorframe across the hall.
“Ah. Yes, yes, I know,” Lord Kerr grumbled.
“Everyone else is to bed, it is time that we were, as well.”
That must be Lady Marpol, Lord Kerr’s mistress.
“Or perhaps…” her voice turned sultry, and the swoosh of skirts could be heard. “Perhaps you remained in your study because you wished for me to join you here?”
Oh dear, please no.
Rustling fabric and loud smacking sounds echoed through the study, the sound easily reaching the closet across the corridor. Mary cringed.
“Perhaps we should retire to my bedchamber,” Lord Kerr suggested.
Please, yes!
“Mmm, indeed.”
Mary listened anxiously as their footfalls moved across the study toward them and retreated down the hall.
She stood facing Gabriel for countless minutes, both of them waiting until the way was entirely clear before they made their withdrawal from hiding.
When the house was still and silent once more, Mary reached past Gabe to push open the closet door. With a wordless, enigmatic glance, Gabe exited their hidden spot first. Mary awkwardly followed, her long twisted skirts hindering her movement.
She hid her shaking fingers as she straightened her frock. Mary’s heart still raced with the startling force of her completion. She had never experienced a… What was it that the other actresses called it? Ah yes, the little death. But that had felt nothing like death. It felt like life, passion, excitement, and exhilaration. Is that what men felt when they reach their fulfillment?
Is that truly what it feels like for everyone?