Lovely. Gallant. Kind. Understanding.
Beautiful in all ways.
He transferred his attention from feline to female, stroking Suzanne’s hair gently so as not to disturb her, but her eyes opened and she smiled up at him. “Good morning, milord,” she murmured, looking very like her cat.
“And a good morning to you, milady.” He gave her what was surely a besotted smile. “I was just thinking of what magnificent hair you have, and how long it will take you to brush the tangles out since it didn’t get plaited last night.”
“It will take a long time, but I don’t mind because it made you happy.” She smiled mischievously. “Mind you, I wouldn’t want to make a habit of it! Loosened hair is for special occasions only.”
“Which last night most certainly was,” he said with a laugh, his stroking hand sliding from her hair to her waist and points south.
She purred and pressed against him as if trying to see if it was humanly possible for them to get any closer. Her hand started to wander also, with electrifying results.
He caught his breath. “It’s rather—ironic is the best word, I suppose. Last night you said you could scream and weep and beg me not to go and make us both miserable, and I’d still have to leave. But this is far worse,ma belle.” His whole body clenched at the knowledge of what must come. “Now it’s even harder to leave, and I’ll be even more miserable because I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
She made a sound that was part sigh and part rueful laughter. “The same is true for me. Yet still you must go or you would not be the man you are.”
“Let’s not waste what time we have.” He licked her throat, which was conveniently close. Her fair skin was silky smooth and deliciously edible. “You did most of the work last night. Shall I do most of it today?”
He saw a flicker of tension in her eyes as she considered how she would feel if he was looming above her, a male with alarmingly greater weight and strength than hers. He said softly, “You can always change your mind in the middle,ma belle, in which case I’ll simply roll over and you can ravish me at your leisure.”
Another instant, and she gave him a wicked seductress smile. “Very well, milord. Let us discover how it works that way.”
It workedverywell.
* * *
As he walked to Wellington’s house for a two o’clock meeting, Simon told himself sternly that he shouldn’t call on the commander of the Allied armies to discuss matters of life and death wearing a ridiculous cat-in-the-cream-pot smile on his face. He thought he had his expression under control by the time he reached his destination. The trick was not to think of Suzanne.
It was really,reallydifficult not to think of Suzanne.
When he reached Wellington’s house, he was greeted by a young aide whose job was to sort the general’s visitors into useful sheep and useless goats. Simon obviously qualified as a sheep since the aide said, “Colonel Duval, welcome! I’ll take you up to the duke’s office.”
“I’m not actually a colonel anymore,” Simon said mildly as he followed the aide.
The young man flashed a quick smile. “Around here, sir, it’s once a colonel, always a colonel.”
Which was true; military rank tended to stay attached to a man for the rest of his life. Simon didn’t really mind. He’d earned the rank, unlike being the Comte de Chambron, a title that he still couldn’t quite accept.
The aide announced him at the office door, then vanished. Simon stepped inside to find not only the duke but also Lieutenant-Colonel Colquhoun Grant, Wellington’s chief exploring officer on the Peninsula. He and Simon had often worked together, and Simon had taken over many of Grant’s duties when the Scot spent two years as a French captive.
Wellington glanced up from a map. “Ah, good. I’ll be interested in hearing what you saw in France, Duval. You know Grant, of course.”
“Indeed I do, sir.” Simon offered his hand to the rangy Scot. “Good to see you again, Grant. I hear you’re now in charge of the duke’s intelligence operation.”
Grant returned a rare smile as they shook hands. “Yes, and I hear that you’ve abandoned the army.”
“I tried, but I’m not sure how successful I’ve been,” Simon said dryly.
“Damned useful that you’re officially a civilian now,” Wellington said. “What did you see on your trip to Paris?”
“A great deal of military activity.” Simon pulled a folded paper from inside his coat. “Here’s a list of the military units I saw in and around Paris.”
The duke and Grant studied the list together, frowning. Wellington said, “Boney is certainly planning something. What’s your best guess, Duval?”
Simon had thought about this. “The emperor isn’t going to sit tamely in Paris and wait for the Allied armies to close in from all sides. He’ll strike boldly and try to take out the opposing armies one by one, and my guess is that his first march will be north to Belgium.”
“Think he’ll go after Blücher and his Prussians first?” Wellington asked.
