A Perfect Hero (21 page)

Dropping her head on her knees, she gathered herself in hand. She’d known something wasn’t right about him. She just hadn’t known what. But she’d never dreamed he was a spy.

Filling her lungs with air, she glanced at him. He had risen to a sitting position as well. He watched her intently, obviously gauging her reaction.

Where before her mind had been nearly wiped clean by shock, now a hundred thoughts crowded in, a furious encumbrance. “I would obviously never succeed as a spy—pardon me, an agent. For I can think of no reason why you would steal money that is counterfeit. And you say the Mag
pie is just a masquerade. How so? Why—”

He held up a hand. “One at a time, sweet. One at a time.” He paused. “Some months ago, Ju
lianna, a woman named Boswell came forward to the Prime Minister’s office with a startling revela
tion concerning counterfeit currency.”

Julianna’s eyes widened. “Counterfeit?”

“Yes. It’s existed throughout the ages, kitten.

Coins improperly weighted, even painted . . . Now, a skilled engraver and his tool does the trick. A plate and a press is all that’s needed.”

He continued. “Mrs. Boswell’s husband, you see, had an intimate knowledge of this crime. Upon his release from prison, Mrs. Boswell dis
closed that her husband was encouraged to make use of his knowledge—encouraged by someone in the Home Office. The idea might have been dismissed out of hand, but for one thing.”

“What?”

“Less than a day later, Mrs. Boswell and her husband were killed,” he said quietly. “Crushed beneath the wheels of a carriage as they crossed the street one night near their home. The driver was never discovered.”

Julianna should have been prepared, but she wasn’t. “Never say that it was—”

“Murder, not an accident.”

She shivered. “No doubt,” she said slowly. “What happened then?”

“Another agent—my partner Phillip—and I were assigned to investigate. As you can imagine, the scandal would be horrendous if the charges were true—if the public were to learn of such corruption in the Home Office itself. The need for secrecy was paramount, so we told no one, not even our superiors. Mrs. Boswell overheard the culprit reveal to her husband Daniel that the
bogus currency was being sent via stagecoach from London. Primarily to Bath, where there is doubtlessly someone who distributes it from there.”

“But first you had to discover if it was true?”

“Yes. We could not openly reveal the investiga
tion, or word might get back to the man respon
sible. So I donned a mask and posed as a highwayman, and indeed, I found what we sought.”

“Forged banknotes,” she said slowly.

He nodded. “But there was another dilemma. If the perpetrator was aware he was under suspi
cion, he might stop his shipments, and we would never learn his identity. We had to beat him at his own game. Therefore, I elected to continue my guise as a highwayman to ferret him out.”

Julianna’s head was whirling. “You’re trying to set a trap? Lure him out of hiding by stealing from him?”

“Precisely. If only his shipments were targeted, he would be onto us in an instant. He must be
lieve the robberies are random, that the targets are random. That’s why the newspapers have printed what they have. He dare not use his of
fice to apprehend the Magpie. He cannot risk at
tracting too much attention to himself, lest he
reveal
himself. We must outwit him at his own game, lure him to the fore, bring him out of hid
ing. Make him angry. In time, he will make a mistake.”

Her eyes widened. “You want to draw him out,” she said, aghast. “You want him to come af
ter you.”

He nodded.

Julianna went cold to the tips of her fingers. “Dane,” she heard herself say, “do you have any idea who this man is?”

His eyes flickered. “Not yet. But we will, I have no doubt.”

“At what cost, I ask? The cost of your life?” Her stomach churned. “The newspapers are filled with your escapades. You were being talked about at the ball tonight. You chance your neck being stretched on a gibbet! And are you aware the price on your head has doubled?”

His brows shot high. “Indeed.”

Julianna railed. “Will the Crown protect you if you are caught miles from London? No one knows who you really are! They’ll think you’re a brigand, a thief! You could be shot.”

“Oh, come. Surely not
twice
.”

His brashness was infuriating.

“This is not amusing!”

She would have lurched away. Dane trapped her, a heavy arm about her waist.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t jest.” He leaned over her. “It’s a chance I must take.”

“What if you’re caught? Captured? I’m afraid
for you.” And she was. She was terrified that she

would lose him again.

“Don’t be. Kitten, look at me.”

Their eyes tangled. Seizing her hand, he dragged it to his mouth and kissed her palm be
fore carrying it to his shoulder.

“Put your arms around me, sweet.”

Her fingertips curled into warm, satin flesh, whether to push him away or bring him close, she didn’t know.

Dane entertained no such ambiguity. He shaped his hand around her neck. He kissed her until her breath dammed in her throat and there was no breath to be found in the world, until co
herent thought fled to mindless sensation. Until the searing heat inside her obliterated all but the desire flashing through her veins.

Weakly, she sank back onto the pillows. His big body followed hers down as she clung to him.

“Julianna,” he muttered. His brown hand was splayed upon her thigh. “I must know, kitten. Do you regret what happened tonight?”

Her heart leaped. She shook her head.

Their lips hovered but a breath apart.

“Are you sure? It wasn’t because of Thomas? Simply that you wanted to know what it was like—”

“No,” she heard herself say.

“To belong then. To—”

“That had nothing to do with it.” Her heart
leaped. Her fingers scaled higher, twisting in the

soft hair on his nape. “Are
you
sorry?”

“Only that it was too quick.”

“Quick?” she echoed.

Dane made a sound. “Let me show you.” He shoved aside the sheets. In slow deliberation, he trapped her knees between his. He was above her. Astride her.

“Your proximity is having a predictable effect on me, kitten.”

Her eyes slid down his form. Her eyes widened. “Yes,” she said shakily. “So I see.” She gulped. “But it’s only been a scant half hour.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest. “I am in com
plete agreement, kitten. Much,
much
too long.”

Much later Julianna found herself roused from a sound sleep.

“Julianna,” came a husky male whisper against her temple.

Sighing, she stirred reluctantly. She had slept heavily, and she need not wonder why. Dane, she saw, was almost fully dressed.

“I must go, sweet.” He pulled her from the bed and handed her the satin dressing gown draped over the foot of the bed.

Together they went downstairs. He chuckled when she stifled a huge yawn as they stopped in the entrance hall.

“What,” she grumbled. “You are used to keep
ing such hours. I am not.”

“That is true.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Like what?” A strong hand tucked a curl be
hind her ear.

“Like you know something I don’t.”

His hand trailed down the tip of her nose. “You imagine things,” he told her lightly.

“Do I?”

“You do.”

In the rear of the house a door creaked. Ju
lianna bit her lip. “Dane, you must hurry. My staff is rising.”

“And so is mine.” Warm hands pulled her close and showed the truth of his statement, lift
ing her clear from the floor.

“Dane, you must go!”

“I cannot leave without a kiss from those lovely lips.”

“Dane, you are the most brash—”

His mouth silenced her. She was still gasping and sputtering as his mouth closed over hers, a long, infinitely intimate kiss. Dazed, she felt her bare toes slide down to the top of his boots to the cold marble floor.

By the time she opened her eyes, the door had already clicked shut. Raising a hand, Julianna
pushed aside the lace curtains beside the door, foolishly wanting just one more glimpse of him. A sound behind her drew her attention.

When next she peered through the glass, he was already gone.

e have a most determined visitor, my lady.” Julianna looked up sharply as she stepped out
side in search of her housekeeper. “A visitor?” Mrs. MacArthur stood on the bottom step, clutching a broom. “Oh, aye. All morning I have been trying to shoo him off, but he is most persistent.”

Julianna followed the direction of her finger. Slanted yellow-green eyes glinted in the sunlight.

It was Maximilian.

He sprang forward, his sleek black body curl
ing around her ankles.

Mrs. MacArthur’s jaw sagged. “Why, I’ll be bound! The wretched creature wouldn’t let any
one near him. I thought perhaps he was hungry, but he turned up his nose at the cream I offered him. Yet now he acts as if you are his dearest friend.”

Julianna bit her lip. The memory of how Dane had once informed her Maximilian was most dis
cerning suddenly flooded her mind. “Thank you, Mrs. MacArthur. I shall see to him.”

“Very well, my lady.”

Julianna picked him up. Maximilian immedi
ately tucked his paws against her and rubbed his head beneath her chin. His throaty purr res
onated through his entire body. His ears tickled, and she laughed, burying her nose in the soft fur of his neck.

“Oh, Maximilian, I missed you.”

“And did you miss me as well?”

Julianna’s heart leaped. She knew that low, husky tone, knew it well.

Dane stood before her, just beyond the little iron gate. He wore a navy frock coat with gleam
ing buttons and tight buff breeches that showed to advantage the lean, muscular length of his thigh.

The air was suddenly heated. She couldn’t seem to summon her breath. And when she spoke, there was a faint catch in her voice.

“Hello.”

“Hello.” His gaze moved hungrily over her face.

“You shouldn’t let Maximilian roam. He might get lost.”

“He’s not lost. He was here when I left this morning. Waiting for me. Now I rather suspect he’s been waiting for you.”

Neither of them had moved. Each watched the other with a rapt intensity that made it seem as if the world could have tipped on its axis and nei
ther would have noticed—or cared. He stared at her mouth.

She stared at his.

“Will you come out with me?”

Julianna’s throat had gone bone-dry. “Where?” As if it mattered.

“Away.”

“When?”

“This afternoon.” Something flashed in his eyes. “I have some things I must ...attend.”

The spell was broken. “Oh. About—”

“Yes.” He paused. “One o’clock?”

Wordlessly she nodded.

“Until then.” He gave a brief salute and was off.

Her gaze followed him long after he’d disap
peared around the corner. Only then did she real
ize she still clutched Maximilian.

When the bell rang promptly at one o’clock, Ju
lianna had to stop herself from rushing down the stairs. She heard the door swing open and Mrs. MacArthur’s greeting. Pressing her hands against
her cheeks, she stopped herself from hurtling down the hallway.
You’re acting like a schoolgirl!
She chided herself. Yet, heaven help her, at her first glimpse of Dane in the entrance hall, she felt giddy and light-headed—as if she had indeed rushed down the stairs.

Outside, he helped her into a phaeton. As he guided the vehicle out of the heart of the city, Ju-lianna’s gaze strayed to his hands again and again, so capably curled around the reins. He had such wonderful, fascinating hands, his fingers lean and tanned, his wrists sturdy and wide and covered with crisp dark hair. Remembering the way he had touched her only hours before made her long to feel them roaming at will once more.

He glanced over at her. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” She would not stammer like a schoolgirl. She would not!

She’d been filled with a nervous tension when she had first seen him again this morning. It faded away as her body bumped gently against his. She didn’t try to hold herself distant. Being with him like this felt comfortably intimate and oddly soothing.

When they rolled to a halt, he swung her lightly to the ground. A path snaked away from the road into a forest of oak and elm trees. Wild
flowers pushed their way through the earth here and there. The sun’s rays dappled the grasses,
lighting the world with fresh, vibrant color. In his

hands were a blanket and small basket.

“Let us stop here.”

Setting down the basket, he snared her by the waist and ducked her behind the tree, where he kissed her long and thoroughly.

“Dane,” she gasped when he finally released her mouth, “you are being overly familiar, are you not?”

He threw back his head and laughed.

“Is this a tryst?” she asked pertly.

“Would you like it to be?”

Julianna bit her lip. A furious tide of color rushed into her cheeks. “I don’t know,” she an
swered honestly.

Dane said nothing, merely gave her a long, slow look. Pulling her down onto the blanket, he discarded his jacket and unpacked bread, cheese, and wine.

They shared the food. Once it was gone, he sat back against the trunk of the tree. With one booted leg against his chest, he glanced off into the trees. His long body filled the blanket from one corner to the other. A spear of the sun chased along his profile, casting it into golden silhouette. The curve of his mouth had taken on a rakish, lopsided slant that made her heart pound. Whether curved into a boyishly endearing grin or drawn into a thin line, his mouth captivated her.

It hit her like a blow just how arrestingly striking he was.

As if he sensed her gaze, he glanced over at her. Setting aside her glass, he reached for her hand. Julianna wet her lips as he ran his tongue along the tender web of flesh between her thumb and forefinger.

“If we were alone, do you know what I would do with you?”

“I believe I do.”

Her prim tone made him laugh. She narrowed her gaze in return.

“You’re smiling like that again,” she told him.

“Like what?”

“The way you were last night.”

“When?”

“When you...when we ...after...”

“After what?”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“I am not, kitten. But I
am
smiling. As for why...something has occurred to me.” He toyed with her fingertips. “When this whole wretched business with the Magpie is done, I think we should marry.”

Julianna couldn’t believe she’d heard him cor
rectly. She snatched her hand back. “I do not find this amusing,” she snapped.

“Nor do I.”

“Dane! Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

A haughty lift of bold, black brows. “Why? Need I remind you what transpired last night? I took your virginity. It is the honorable thing to do.”

Honor.
Honor
. Something constricted deep in her breast. It was honor that compelled Thomas to marry Clarice, she thought vaguely. It had taken a long time to see past her own feel
ings of anger and betrayal, but Thomas had done the right thing in refusing to abandon Clarice.

But Julianna wanted more than that. She
de
served
more than that.

“What’s done is done. You took nothing, nothing that was not mine to give! And I cer
tainly won’t marry you because of a moment of madness!”

“Madness, is it? I remember it quite otherwise.”

“Must I be blunt?”

His jaw bunched. “Please do,” he replied pleasantly.

“We both succumbed to—to earthly delights.”

“To
what?
Are we not being blunt? Sweet, there is no need to be delicate.”

In the light of day, everything looked different. Granted,
he
did not look different. His hair was blowing in the breeze. The chiseled outline of his mouth was set in a harsh line. Yet he was as dev
astating to her emotions as always.

Her mouth opened, then closed. She had not
expected this. Her gaze was almost desperate. “I cannot deny the way we are drawn to each other, that we have been from the very beginning. But perhaps it was our circumstances, the fact that we were in such close quarters. In constant com
pany. Yes, that is surely the case.”

“You convince neither of us, kitten. We both know what drove us. We were hardly over
wrought. Overcome, perhaps, but—”

“You said it yourself, Dane. It was quick. Heated. Intense.”

“You think it was lust,” he pronounced flatly.

“Yes, yes! Something wild and carnal.”

“Carnal!” He made a sound of disgust.

“When I marry, if I ever marry,” she stressed, “it will be for all the right reasons. Not because of a moment of madness.”

She accurately read the disbelief on his fea
tures. Fire replaced it, burning and intent.

“You are refusing me?”

“I . . . It seems I am.”

With a curse, he surged to his feet. Her head whirling, Julianna suddenly found herself stand
ing before him.

“I could almost believe you seek to teach me a lesson. Is this because I was not candid?”

“It is not!” He towered above her, but she stood her ground.

“Sweet, if I were to go to your brothers and
divulge that we were acquainted in the
carnal
way, you are surely aware they would demand that we wed.”

“They might demand it, but they certainly couldn’t make me. Nor can you. My decisions are my own, Dane.”

“We will marry, Julianna.”

“What?” she cried.

He put his face just above hers. “We
will
marry, love.”

Her chin raised aloft. “You may have a title. You may be used to giving orders. But you won’t give orders to me.”

There was a flash of white teeth. “Kitten,” he drawled, “you are charmingly acrimonious.”

“Oh, stop! If I had not seen you last night at the Farthingales, this would never have hap
pened. The subject of marriage would certainly never have cropped up. Our paths would never have crossed again.”

He caught her up against him. “I’d already set about making inquiries, Miss Julianna Clare—a task that might have proved easier if I had not had the wrong name.”

“Oh, do not
dare
to upbraid me!” Her eyes flashed. Her gaze slid away, then back again, but she couldn’t meet his demanding regard.

“I want to go home, Dane.”

“Julianna—” He caught her chin and brought
her eyes to his. She looked at him then, her eyes

swimming.

Her lips were tremulous.

Dane swore to himself, long and fluently.

Neither of them spoke all the way back into the city.