Read Online A Private Duel with Agent Gunn (The Gentlemen of Scotland Yard) by Jillian Stone - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jillian Stone
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extended her leg to the side. She executed four tendus front from a closed fifth position. A slow flush of heat crept from her neck to her cheeks. Phineas Gunn had witnessed a rare display of temper she was hard-pressed to explain, even to herself.
“Dégagez à terre avec la pointe tendue.” Monsieur Didelot tapped his baton in his palm and walked the stage between rows of ballet girls at the barre. The music hall was empty but for their pianist and a cleaning crew. She was to have an additional hour of practice today with Mérante, the male lead.
“And reverse, mes chers .” At the end of their tendus, the dancers pivoted in unison. Cate checked her posture. Clearly, it was none of her business if Phineas kept a mistress.
She slid her toe out to a point, then drew her foot in. Tendu front. Tendu side. Tendu back. Another flush of humiliation washed over her. She had blurted out a string of profanity and curse words that would make a Portuguese sailor blush.
She bit her lip and began the pliés . What was it aboutPhineas Gunn that encouraged the raving wanton in her? She recalled a night in Barcelona—though it had not been evening, exactly. A warm breeze had parted the curtains. Afternoon light had slanted across the hotel room and lingered on her nude body.
His tongue circled a pointed nipple.
Her knees wobbled as the memory swept through her body. “Open to me,” he had whispered. His fingers moved lower—pushed deeper. She obeyed him then, and now. Cate gripped the ballet barre and widened her stance. Sweeping her arm up to third position, and lifting her chin, she tried not to think about how he had moved a finger inside her—gentle, exploring, stretching. He had paused for a moment and pulled away. “Am I the only man who has touched you here?”
She had reached out and drawn his face to hers, rubbing her flushed cheek against the stubble of his chin. “A few men have tried,” she murmured.
He had studied her for a moment—evaluating, considering. She had pulled his mouth to hers and explained with her tongue how much she wanted this experience with him.
He added another finger to his exploration and his thumb also found a place to stroke. “Do you like it when I touch you here?” He discontinued the taunting, circling pleasure of his thumb. “Tell me, Catriona.”
Her sex was swollen, petulant—wanting more. “Yes,” she moaned. Strong arms, pulsing with life, drew her up against his hard body. With one hand, he clasped her wrists behind her—arching her, drawing her closer. He slid one finger, then two, farther, causing more shuddering and trembling.
He had boldly taken control, but he did not threaten her in any way. In fact, she felt safe with him. Perhaps more so than with any man she had ever known.
He had dipped his head and teased up a nipple. Pleasure rippled through her body. His hard organ pressed against her belly and she wondered if he would be forceful and plunge into her. Part of her wanted it—badly. He had looked up from his suckling. “I will make you very wet. It will be more comfortable until you adjust to me.”
Her knees wobbled and she lost her concentration at the ballet barre. Cate took a deep breath and shook off heated memories of sensuous lovemaking. She concentrated on the dance master’s words. Moving off the barre, they worked on port de bras .
Last night at the ball, after the gentlemen had taken their argument outside, she had stayed behind and discovered something wonderfully intriguing about Phineas Gunn. According to Lady Lennox, no one knew the jewelry of the noblesse better than Finn. The truth of it was, Los Tigres had disappeared overnight. She supposed they were back on the Continent, somewhere. The anarchists had left her with no help. No names of the current gem owners, or where she might go to fence the pretty baubles. She had tried several of the gem dealers of Hatton Garden, but they weren’t privy to private sales. No, if she was to
“Dégagez à terre avec la pointe tendue.” Monsieur Didelot tapped his baton in his palm and walked the stage between rows of ballet girls at the barre. The music hall was empty but for their pianist and a cleaning crew. She was to have an additional hour of practice today with Mérante, the male lead.
“And reverse, mes chers .” At the end of their tendus, the dancers pivoted in unison. Cate checked her posture. Clearly, it was none of her business if Phineas kept a mistress.
She slid her toe out to a point, then drew her foot in. Tendu front. Tendu side. Tendu back. Another flush of humiliation washed over her. She had blurted out a string of profanity and curse words that would make a Portuguese sailor blush.
She bit her lip and began the pliés . What was it aboutPhineas Gunn that encouraged the raving wanton in her? She recalled a night in Barcelona—though it had not been evening, exactly. A warm breeze had parted the curtains. Afternoon light had slanted across the hotel room and lingered on her nude body.
His tongue circled a pointed nipple.
Her knees wobbled as the memory swept through her body. “Open to me,” he had whispered. His fingers moved lower—pushed deeper. She obeyed him then, and now. Cate gripped the ballet barre and widened her stance. Sweeping her arm up to third position, and lifting her chin, she tried not to think about how he had moved a finger inside her—gentle, exploring, stretching. He had paused for a moment and pulled away. “Am I the only man who has touched you here?”
She had reached out and drawn his face to hers, rubbing her flushed cheek against the stubble of his chin. “A few men have tried,” she murmured.
He had studied her for a moment—evaluating, considering. She had pulled his mouth to hers and explained with her tongue how much she wanted this experience with him.
He added another finger to his exploration and his thumb also found a place to stroke. “Do you like it when I touch you here?” He discontinued the taunting, circling pleasure of his thumb. “Tell me, Catriona.”
Her sex was swollen, petulant—wanting more. “Yes,” she moaned. Strong arms, pulsing with life, drew her up against his hard body. With one hand, he clasped her wrists behind her—arching her, drawing her closer. He slid one finger, then two, farther, causing more shuddering and trembling.
He had boldly taken control, but he did not threaten her in any way. In fact, she felt safe with him. Perhaps more so than with any man she had ever known.
He had dipped his head and teased up a nipple. Pleasure rippled through her body. His hard organ pressed against her belly and she wondered if he would be forceful and plunge into her. Part of her wanted it—badly. He had looked up from his suckling. “I will make you very wet. It will be more comfortable until you adjust to me.”
Her knees wobbled and she lost her concentration at the ballet barre. Cate took a deep breath and shook off heated memories of sensuous lovemaking. She concentrated on the dance master’s words. Moving off the barre, they worked on port de bras .
Last night at the ball, after the gentlemen had taken their argument outside, she had stayed behind and discovered something wonderfully intriguing about Phineas Gunn. According to Lady Lennox, no one knew the jewelry of the noblesse better than Finn. The truth of it was, Los Tigres had disappeared overnight. She supposed they were back on the Continent, somewhere. The anarchists had left her with no help. No names of the current gem owners, or where she might go to fence the pretty baubles. She had tried several of the gem dealers of Hatton Garden, but they weren’t privy to private sales. No, if she was to
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