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Angelique’s hands, braced on his shoulders to shove, tightened and gripped as his lips sucked at her skin. Her nails dug into his flesh and in reply his teeth sank into the tender skin at the curve of her neck, just hard enough to make her shudder. His hand flexed and squeezed around her bottom, pulling her tightly into him as he rocked his hips. Angelique’s shudders only grew harder. She had been too long without a man if she reacted this way to him.

He tipped up her face to his and brushed his lips against hers. It was an oddly tender kiss. She rebelled against the wave of feeling it caused, not even wanting to name the feeling. She wasn’t a naive girl, ready to lose her heart to the first man who kissed her with such tenderness, as if he cared for her as a woman. He was just as much a liar and imposter as she was.

Angelique knew how this game was played. It was one thing to flirt with and seduce a man, and quite another to care for him. Affection, let alone love, had no place in her profession, especially not with a man she was working with. People went all to pieces when they thought their hearts were at stake. They became stupid, careless, and rash, which were often fatal lapses. She wasn’t about to chance it.

And yet… She didn’t push him aside. She didn’t say stop. As his mouth moved down her jaw she tried to force her thoughts coldly inward, away from the burning pleasure his lips were leaving on her skin, away from the yearning that raged through her.

She couldn’t give in to this unguarded lunacy. But if she didn’t break the spell now, she might never be able to.

With a monumental effort she twisted in his arms, unable to pull away but at least no longer able to see his face. “This is wrong,” she said, breathing hard. “All wrong.”

He went still for a moment, then delicately stroked her hair away from her face. “No, it isn’t.”

She shuddered. “We are on assignment. We serve different masters, for different countries. There is nothing right about this. You don’t trust me, and I don’t like you.”

“No?” Amusement warmed his voice. “I never said I don’t trust you.”

“You refused to save my pretty little neck,” she retorted.

He pressed his lips once more to her neck, just below her jaw, making a sound of pleasure deep in his throat. “I would have killed that man tonight to save your very beautiful neck,” he murmured against her skin.

Her heart gave a little leap even though she knew that was the wrong answer. “That was never necessary.”

“No.” His hand smoothed down her side. “Because you had it well in hand.”

It was hard to think as his knuckles brushed the side of her breast. “You should never have considered it, no matter what happened to me. I would not expect you to—to protect me. That is not your role…”

“Hmm, no, it wasn’t.” He kissed her exposed collarbone. “But when you disappeared with him, it was all I could think of doing, even if it meant alerting Dixon to flee and I never found him. When I imagined Hurst hurting you, I would have killed your king himself to stop it, and that’s why this is not, and never will be, wrong.” The tiny sleeve of her gown slid down her shoulder, and his fingers dipped inside the bodice to caress her breasts, barely held by her daringly low-cut corset.

Angelique should be indignant about that, but instead she arched into his caress, and let him turn her back over. Her hand slid into his hair, and when she tugged to direct him, he flashed her a gleaming look before obediently bending his head to her breast.

She still suspected this was a mistake. She knew what Nate did not—that her mission was to thwart his. That would be betrayal enough, but it was pure cruelty to know what lay ahead and still allow… this.

And yet she did. It was so very, very wrong…but so very, very good.

He tugged the bodice further down, his mouth exploring every inch of skin exposed. Angelique shuddered, unprepared for the fierce need that roared through her. His hands circled her breasts, cupping their weight in his palms, and he groaned in abject appreciation as his thumbs swirled over her tight nipples.

The battle was lost. She admitted defeat, if only because her body had already surrendered to his touch.

Without a word she grasped the back of his shirt collar and pulled. He reached over one shoulder and yanked the shirt over his head, freeing his arms even as she twined herself around him. Her skin seemed to burn where it touched his, and she squirmed closer, wanting it to consume her and burn away every last trace of rational thought.

He was helping considerably with that wish. His hands were everywhere on her, one sliding up her thigh to curve around her bottom, squeezing her hip and holding her against him. She raised her leg, hooking her knee around his waist, rolling her spine to rub herself shamelessly against the erection straining at his trousers. His breath hissed between his teeth, and his eyes glowed like jade as he loomed over her, braced on one elbow, and yanked up the tattered hem of her gown. He ran his fingers between her legs, through the folds of her sex, pausing to swirl over that spot where all her longing was knotted, then sliding lower. She caught her breath at the first pass of his fingers, gasped in giddy shock as his finger pressed hard and deep inside her, and all but screamed as he laid his thumb against that aching spot and stroked.

“Christ,” he said between gritted teeth. His hair fell forward, tumbling over his brow. The muscles of his arm under her neck flexed and hardened. Angelique dug her toes into the bed, straining against the unspeakable pleasure of his touch inside her. She ran her hands down his bare chest to his waist, letting her nails bite into his skin. With two quick twists she popped his trouser buttons free and then she took him in her hands.

From the guttural curse he whispered in her ear, he was as much in her thrall as she was in his. She raised her face, welcoming his ravishing kiss as she curled her fingers around him. He was thick and hard and so alive, burning hot. She gripped and squeezed, imagining him driving inside her, and felt her own inner muscles quiver and melt in anticipation.

He tensed and jerked in her hands, then shoved himself off the bed. “Take off the dress,” he growled, kicking off his shoes and peeling off his trousers and undergarments.

Angelique sat up and reached for the buttons at her back, but obviously not fast enough. Nate was naked in front of her, and she couldn’t look away. How much the clothing had concealed, she thought in amazement; he was neither skinny nor gangly, but lean and hard with muscle.

While she was still staring, he caught her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Never mind,” he whispered as he turned her around and pushed her forward until she braced her arms on the edge of the bed. “I’ll do it.”

He undid the first few buttons in a rush, then paused. The bodice loosened and sagged forward, and his arms came around her, his hands slipping inside the dress to cup her breasts again. Lightly, leisurely he stroked her, his long fingers circling and pinching her nipples until they stood up tight and hard. Angelique gripped fistfuls of the coverlet to hold herself up as he played with her—there was no other word for it. He had his hands on her bare breasts and he was playing with her body.

But it was gentle, even reverent, and it must be even more pleasurable for her than it could possibly be for him. She felt the heat of his breath at her nape, and shivered as his lips whispered over her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut and curled her toes into the carpet. She didn’t want this; it was only to be a quick tupping, to take the edge off her body’s needs. She didn’t want him to spend an hour exploring her skin. She didn’t want it, but somehow she needed it.

At last he slid his hands out of her bodice, leaving her breasts heavy and aching. He opened a few more buttons, pulling apart the edges and running one fingertip down the ridge of her spine to the lace-trimmed edge of her short corset. Her back arched instinctively, but then his mouth was there, his tongue swirling over her skin until she melted again. With agonizing slowness he pushed the dress down her arms and then over her hips until it was a pile of fabric around her legs. With one tug he untied her petticoats, and shoved them down with the dress. The cool air on her bare thighs made her skin tingle, as if she could feel his gaze moving over her.