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Angelique rolled into the depression left by his body and stared at the ceiling. His warmth and scent still clung to the sheets, surrounding her with the reminder of how much trouble she was in. Deep inside her heart, she admitted she didn’t want it to be over. Last night would be seared into her memory until the day she drew her last breath. If she had any sense of self-preservation, she would have let him leave after that first, explosive, time. She probably could have survived it well enough, armored herself against any foolish sentimentality, and gone on with her physical desires sated. But instead she told him to stay, and he had.

As a rule, she didn’t go to bed with other agents. It was bad practice. Lovers grew careless if affection was involved, and ruthless if it was not. Even Ian, who had flirted with her furiously at times and hinted he wouldn’t let an affair interfere with their work, had been easy to keep at a distance. She knew most men were frightened of her in some way or another, even the ones who were willing to risk it for a night in her bed.

Nathaniel Avery, though… Nate refused to believe her angry denials that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He met her snarling with humor, her coldness with concern, and her prickly defensiveness with potent seduction. As he sidestepped her every attack and got under her guard, he threatened to pierce even her cold, hard heart.

Pleasure, she could enjoy. Intimacy, she could endure. But affection? Tenderness? And the chance to have him any way she wanted, tonight? That might be too much for any woman to withstand, let alone one who was wholly unaccustomed to anything romantic.

But what was she to do, now that she had crossed that line? It was too late to pretend she’d been seeking only a physical release. When she had invited him to stay, he had tucked them both between the sheets and simply held her for a while, stroking her back lightly until she dozed off. When she woke in the full dark of night, he had been still holding her, still stroking her, and then he made love to her leisurely, stretching out the sinuous pleasure for what seemed like hours until she almost broke under the sheer rapture of it. And then he did it again, right before he left. Another night like that, and she would never recover.

Angelique stretched her arms over her head, wishing she could just stay in bed for the rest of the day, dreaming away the hours before tonight. Her night. How was she to match what he had done?

She should have been exhausted. Her muscles ached even through the residual glow of contentment, and she would feel him between her legs with every step she took. Nate had kept her awake much of the night, and she should close her eyes and get another hour of sleep before Lisette came to stir the fire and bring her breakfast. But instead, her eyes were open and her mind ran onward.

This must be kept very quiet. Lisette was her maid and loyal to her, and even if she disapproved of Angelique’s actions she would never voice that disapproval to anyone, especially not to someone who might report back to John Stafford. Angelique had no idea about Nate’s man, Prince, but it certainly wouldn’t be in his best interest to cause trouble now. If anyone else was watching them, though, it could reach the wrong person’s ear. And she didn’t at all doubt that Stafford might have someone watching to see how she got on.

So today she must act as if nothing had happened between them. She must be as bored and dismissive of Nate as she had been before she held his head to her breast and gasped at the touch of his lips. Before he had run his wicked, clever hands over her bare skin and brought her to the pinnacle of ecstasy. Before she had felt a small, lonely part of her heart warm under his smile. And most of all, she must push all thought of tonight from her mind.

She rose from the bed and dressed. The magenta gown with the shredded hem lay in a pool of silk beneath her petticoats, on the floor where Nate had left them when he stripped her. She shook out the petticoats and draped them over the chaise, then inspected the dress. It was a dangerous dress, as Nate said, and certainly had its uses, but it was fairly well ruined. Still, she smiled a little as she laid it across the petticoats. Perhaps Lisette could repair the skirt.

Lisette knew at once. Her maid came in with a tray while Angelique was doing her morning exercises, and stopped when she saw the bed. An arrested expression stole across her face, and then she looked at Angelique with such maternal concern it made her hackles rise.

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing,” murmured Lisette, hurrying to set the tray down. “Nothing at all, Madame.”

Angelique scowled and tried to concentrate on her exercise. It was hard to stay as strong as she needed to be in order to make up for her petite stature. Being slim and flexible could take one only so far. She raised the heavy iron bar above her head and swung it in slow, controlled circles as if fighting an imaginary swordsman. Ian had taught her some of these motions, and she had added to them. The exertion required her to bathe every morning after she finished, but the taut power in her muscles was worth it. She knew she looked dainty and delicate, and being even a little bit stronger than expected was an invaluable advantage.

“You will be going out today?” Lisette took up the laundry without batting an eye at the ripped and crumpled gown.

“Later. And then again tonight, after dark.” Angelique held the iron bar above her head and slowly lowered it behind her until the muscles at the backs of her arms trembled. With a grateful sigh, she set the bar aside and wiped her face with the fresh towel her maid held out. “This morning I will be at leisure.”

Lisette raised one eyebrow, but said nothing. She went in and out of the room as Angelique ate breakfast, preparing the bath and laying out an old, comfortable dress. By the time Angelique finished bathing and dressing, and Lisette was pinning up her damp hair, it was barely ten. “Has Mr. Avery risen yet?” she asked idly, watching her maid’s deft fingers twirl her hair into a neat twist.

“Risen and gone, along with that man of his.” Lisette poked in the last pin as Angelique started in surprise. “I only heard them leave when they closed the door. Like ghosts, Madame, they move without a sound.”

Indeed. Angelique hadn’t heard a single sound herself, even though she’d been awake since Nate left her room. She just assumed he had crawled into his own bed and gone back to sleep. Not even a squeaking stair had betrayed them. What could they be doing? she wondered, and then shoved aside the thought. She had work to do today, and if Nate stayed away and lessened her distraction, so much the better.

But what was he doing? For a man who tried so hard to wheedle her intentions and plans out of her, he hadn’t mentioned anything of his own. Perhaps he had none, and was merely improvising again. Or perhaps he had lied to her about improvising, and had carefully planned every last moment of last night…

She sprang to her feet with an impatient huff. She would make herself mad if she thought about him all day. This was what she had feared last night—this was what she could not allow, even given her tacit acknowledgment that he would be back in her bed tonight, and perhaps the night after. It was an affair, nothing more. When they had caught their man, Nathaniel Avery would go back to America and she would retire to a quiet life in the country. Or perhaps travel abroad for a while. A quiet life in the country sounded very … quiet; perhaps too quiet at the moment. She could see Italy, Russia, even France. Perhaps Mélanie would go with her.

“Find the market basket, Lisette,” she said abruptly. “I shall go for a walk.” She had planned to go later, but suddenly wished to be out of the house. She got her plainest bonnet and draped a drab gray shawl around her shoulders. The beige dress she wore was simple and plain, completely unremarkable.

Her maid met at the bottom of the stairs with the basket. “What would you like from the market?” Angelique asked, letting her dimple show impishly as she hooked the basket over one arm.

“Fresh berries, s’il vous plait,” said Lisette with a smile. “And no more ripped skirts.”

Angelique hesitated. “Can it be repaired? Can the skirt be replaced?” Lisette made a dour face. “Well, toss it out if not. I liked the color.”

Lisette smirked. “Oui, Madame. It is a lovely color.”

She gave the woman a severe look as she went to the door. “Do not begin.”

“No, Madame.” Lisette waited until she put her hand on the doorknob to ask, “And what shall I say to Monsieur Avery, if he should return while you are out?”

Angelique froze. She was accustomed to Lisette’s impertinence, but this touched her too closely. Slowly she turned. For a long moment she fixed a cool stare on her maid, who just stared boldly back. “You may tell him,” she said quietly, “that I have gone out.” And she closed the door behind her.

Chapter Seventeen