A Most Dangerous Profession

chapter 20





A letter from Triona Hurst MacLean to her sister Lady Caitlyn Hurst MacLean, a month ago.


Hugh wishes to go to Edinburgh and then to London in the near future, which I would enjoy above all things. Pray see if you and Alexander and the children can come, as well. It will give us the opportunity to find out what is going on with those brothers of ours. They are too close with their information, sharing nothing unless you drag it out of them.

Something is going on; I can feel it. As Mam always says, “Gut is always right.”

A soft knock announced Buffon’s entrance, and Robert looked up from Moira’s map. “I’ve marked where I’ve searched and where you’ve gone, but the castle’s so large it would take two weeks to search it thoroughly. I want to leave in the morning, but—” He sighed. “Damn it. Where can that chamber be?”

“It would be delightful to have that information, wouldn’t it, monsieur?” Buffon smiled.

Robert did, too. “You know something.”

Buffon looked pleased. “Oui.”

“Out with it, then!”

“There is a room in the West Wing, a part of the castle rarely used, that Ross will not allow the maids to dust. He has been known to spend hours there by himself and when he returns he is much invigorated.”

“It must be there, then.”

“I think so, monsieur. May I see your map?”

Robert held it out.

The valet studied it and then pointed a thin finger to one of the lower reaches of the castle. “It is here, monsieur.”

Robert picked up his pen and marked the spot. “I shall slip out later tonight. Can you create another diversion?”

“As you wish, monsieur. Hmm. Perhaps a ghost is in order.”

“Good. It’s interesting that Ross doesn’t trust the servants.”

“Non. It appears Sir Ross leads a lonely life, as he deserves.”

“Indeed. I shall sleep for a few hours and get up at three. Can you do your haunting at that time?”

“But of course.” Buffon arched a brow. “But first, there is the matter of compensation. You indicated that I would be rewarded.”

“Of course. Fifty pounds? A hundred?”

“Your robe, monsieur.”

Robert blinked. “What?”

“Oui. The blue one. It pains me to see you wear it.”

Robert sighed.

Buffon waited.

“Very well. Take the damn robe. I shall have Triona make me another.”

“Thank you, monsieur! Until then, you will wear the red silk one?”

“Yes, yes.”

Buffon beamed and wasted no time in removing it from the wardrobe. “Here, monsieur.” He held it out.

Robert sighed but slipped it on. As he did so, a noise sounded at the window. Robert frowned at the closed curtains.

Buffon tilted his head. “Did you hear—”

“The wind, yes. You may go, Buffon. I will be ready at three.”

“Very good, monsieur.” With a stately nod and a satisfied look at the red robe, Buffon left, holding the blue robe before him like a moldy rag.

Robert hurried to the windows. One glance out told him all he needed to know; seconds later, he was pulling Moira inside.

She was shivering, her skin as cold as river stones. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed as he set her upon her feet, wrapping his arms about her to warm her.

Moira had never been so glad to see anyone in her life, even though Robert was pale with fury. “Y-you climbed across the ledge,” she pointed out through chattering teeth.

“Not in long skirts and slippers with smooth soles. Damn it, do you never think?”

“Y-yes, and I n-n-needed to visit you. Furthermore, these”—she showed him her sensible boots—“are not s-slippers.”

He cursed, swept her up, and carried her to his bed. “Take off those boots.”

She tried, but her fingers were too cold to undo the laces. He muttered a curse and did it for her, yanking them off and tossing them into the corner.

Robert supposed he should be grateful she’d at least worn good shoes, but he was too furious at the chance she’d taken. Her skirts could easily have wrapped around her legs, and he had an instant vision of her terrified expression as she plunged off the edge and into the—She could have died, damn it! Died and left me—

His heart aching in an unfamiliar way, his throat tight, he closed the window and tugged the curtains into place.

Her gaze locked on his red silk robe. “That’s very . . . bright.”

“Yes, it is. My blue one is gone.”

“Oh.” She looked about his room. “This is very cozy.”

“It’s a bit larger than a water closet, which our host is well aware of.”

At the mention of Ross, her expression closed.

Robert’s anger tightened further. “What happened? Did that ass—”

“No. But I’m glad I had my pistol.”

Robert’s hands fisted at his sides as fury raced through his blood. “Damn him! I’ll—” He was almost at the door when she caught up to him, grabbing his arm with both hands.

“No, Robert! We have to do what’s best for Rowena.”

In her eyes, he saw that she was barely holding on to her own composure.

He took a deep breath and then reached for her, holding her close against his heart. He pressed his cheek against her hair, willing away the bloodlust that held him in its grip.

“I want to kill that man,” he snapped, every fiber of his being screaming for justice.

“As do I,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. “But we can’t. We have one goal here and that’s to rescue my d—” She took a breath. “—our daughter.”

Despite his anger, he had to laugh at the reluctance in her tone. Robert lifted her face toward his. “Come, Moira. Was that so very difficult to say?”

She smiled at his teasing tone. “It will take some getting used to.”

“I can see that. Well, I’ve made a decision, and this incident with Ross has made me even more committed to it.”

“What’s that?”

Robert straightened. “Box or no, we leave in the morning.”

She paled. “But—”

“I think I know where that damned box is, and I shall attempt to get it tonight. But if I fail, we leave anyway. I will take care of Rowena, I promise. I will make Aniston give her up, and she will be safe with you once more.”

Her shoulders sagged and she said in a broken whisper, “I wish I could believe that.”

He sighed. She still didn’t trust him, which was disheartening. It was odd, for in every relationship he’d ever had, he was the one unwilling to trust, to care, to commit. And yet here he was, yearning for—damn it, what did he yearn for? Well, there would be time enough to think about that once he and Moira were gone from this cursed place. “In the morning I will have Leeds and Stewart ready with the coach. You will wait with them. As soon as I get the artifact, we go. I’m done playing Ross’s game.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. We will try it your way.”

Robert’s gaze traced the curve of her cheek to the delicate line of her throat, and down to the swell of her breasts. His fingers itched at the thought of cupping them through the fabric, teasing them until—

“Robert, kiss me.” Her gaze locked with his. “I don’t want to think any more.”

He kissed her with all his pent-up emotion and passion, bunching her gown in his hands. In seconds, he had her undressed and in bed. Her skin looked peach-warm in the lamplight that caressed her curves, which beckoned to him irresistably.

She smiled tantalizingly. “Well? Are you just going to look?”

What man could resist her? He swiftly undressed. Her gaze immediately went to his erect cock, fanning his own desire.

He got into the small bed, eager to touch her. He cupped one breast and flicked his thumb over the nipple. It hardened immediately and Moira gasped, her lashes fluttering. God, he loved it when he made her look like that.

Then her warm hand encircled his cock, and Robert caught his breath at the eruption of sensations that rippled through him, teasing and tantalizing.

Before he could say anything, Moira released him, pushed him to the mattress, and straddled him. His cock was firmly pressed against her backside as she grinned down at him, her hair streaming over her shoulders. “It’s time you stopped ordering me about.” She raised up on her knees, and then slid down onto him.

Robert grabbed the mattress edges with both hands, trying to keep control. “Moira, don’t—” he choked out.

Moira lifted up until she was poised over his cock again. “Well?” she whispered. “Shall I?”

He couldn’t resist her. He grasped her waist and answered her with a firm downward tug.

She engulfed him in a tight, velvet grip that sent his senses spiraling out of control. She rode him again and again, teasing him to madness. Just as he was on the edge of no return, she stopped, her head tilted back, her glorious red hair streaming about her, an expression of pure ecstasy on her face.

Robert lifted his hips, and she gasped, rocking back on her heels, her hands flat on his stomach. Robert wished he could take this moment and hold it forever.

He held her waist and slowly lifted her, then slid her back down, and she moaned. They found a steady rhythm, their breathing growing more erratic, the pressure building until Moira gasped out his name and threw herself forward to rock hard back and forth. Suddenly, she stilled and gasped his name as she gave way to the wave of pleasure that engulfed her.

Robert immediately followed, erupting with deep tremors that he thought would never stop.

Moira collapsed against him, and they clung to each other, breathing heavily, their hearts pounding together. She felt so good in his arms, so peaceful and right. He was almost afraid to move.

There had been too few of these moments in his life, when he’d felt completely at peace, and he wanted to hold on to it for as long as he could. He rolled to his side and held her against him as he ran his fingers over her silky skin, luxuriating in the warmth that radiated from her. The moment stretched, the silence warm and comforting.

Finally, he lifted up on one elbow and smiled down at her. “Well?”

Moira opened her eyes. He was so smugly satisfied that she had to chuckle. “Well, Mr. Hurst, that was very invigorating.”

“It was.” He brushed her hair from her forehead. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh? What did you mean?”

He threaded his fingers through her hair and fanned it out. “I meant how right it is that we still have this.”

“Oh. Yes, it is.” She tried to keep her attention on his face, though it was difficult with his bare chest. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, all lean and elegant sinew. His muscular body showed the effects of many hours of boxing, fencing, and riding.

She traced her fingers over his chest, noting how warm his skin was. It was as if he was heated by an internal fire, and she snuggled deeper against him.

He raised his brows, still smiling. “Making yourself comfortable?”

“Mm hmm.” She breathed in the scent of his skin. How she loved the feel of him in her bed, hard muscles and angles, the feel of strong legs entwined with hers. It had been so long since she’d felt this pleasure. “We should rest a bit and then try it again.” She opened one eye and flashed him a sleepy, satisfied grin. “If you’re up to it, of course.”

He shook his head in wonder. “I’ve never met a woman who was so comfortable with her life and decisions and yet determined to be on her own.”

She wondered at that, for there was no denying his masculine appeal. Good God, how could anyone resist those blue eyes, that black hair, that flat stomach? She ran her hand over his muscular chest. “Perhaps that’s your fault.”

His brows shot up. “My fault?”

“Women want to feel cherished, not possessed. Being with you is very . . . intense. It’s difficult not to be overwhelmed.”

His lips curved into a pleased smile. “Overwhelmed, eh?”

“Don’t take that as a compliment.”

“Too late.” He bent and pressed his lips to her ear and then whispered, his breath warm against her ear, “I heard your moans, ma chère. ‘Overwhelmed’ is a good thing.”

She chuckled, suddenly sleepy from the trials of the day and especially her exertions with Robert. “With you, ‘overwhelmed’ can be a very, very good thing.” She pressed her lips to his cheek, noting how his blue eyes were lit with the fire he usually hid beneath his French cuffs and laces.

Robert continued to run his fingers through her hair, spreading it across her shoulders. “I’ve always had a weakness for your beautiful hair.”

And I’ve always had a weakness for you. Moira smiled sleepily. “I’ll want to sleep here. I locked the door to my room.”

He kissed her nose and pulled the blankets up. “Sleep, Moira.” Then he tucked her close, her back to his chest. “I’ll keep watch while you do.”

Moira smiled and drifted off to sleep with Robert curled around her, his arm over her waist, his leg across hers.