Read Online A Spy Unmasked (Entangled Scandalous) by Tina Gabrielle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tina Gabrielle
Tags: Historical Romance, Category
Ads: Link
Delmont’s servant, who had drawn the map. He wondered if the agent had been Ian and what guise he’d donned. A footman again? Or perhaps a stable groom or manservant?
Ian was proficient, but Robert knew the question marks were just what they symbolized—guesses as to where the safes were hidden.
He would have to locate them on his own and find the best method of nondestructive manipulation. This time he wouldn’t remove the contents, only study them for clues. If all went as planned, Delmont would never know that the safes had been tampered with or their contents investigated.
Carefully he folded the map and returned it to the safe. His hand hovered above the miniature portrait before removing the small gilt frame. Pain and loneliness squeezed his heart as he studied the image. Even now, years later, each time he envisioned Gwendolyn’s death a primitive grief assailed him.
Her smile was just as he recalled, wisps of white-blond hair framing her heart-shaped face. She had been innocent, untainted by the evil and darkness that shrouded him. The talented artist had captured her green eyes perfectly…
He frowned. The image blurred before him, and he pictured another pair of green eyes. They radiated defiance and determination in their mesmerizing depths rather than sweet innocence. The hair was wrong…thick chestnut tresses tumbling in disarray…the lips full and sensual…the complexion not a pale hue, but a golden color that hinted at sunshine and brazenness.
Sophia.
When he had sent the note asking her to come to his home, he had planned on testing her…on dissuading her from the ridiculous notion that they could work together. He had waltzed with her, had kissed her, for Christ’s sake, in an attempt to make her run from him straight to Wendover and cry off. But his plan had backfired.
As soon as their lips had touched, she had been as passionate and responsive as an inferno. He recalled the lush ripeness of her body pressing against his, of the tentative stroke of her hot tongue meeting his, and of her green eyes shimmering in burgeoning sexual awareness.
His response had been instant and combustible; he’d had to use every ounce of discipline to break the kiss and rein in his lust.
His fingers clenched the portrait. Damnation. Why was he thinking of Sophia? It was the first time he had looked upon Gwendolyn’s portrait and thought of another woman. Guilt made his gut clench tight.
He refused to betray Gwendolyn’s memory in such a fashion.
Returning the portrait to the safe, he shut the door and put the stone back in place.
Chapter Eight
“I hadn’t expected this many people,” Sophia whispered to Jane behind her fan in the corner of the Camerons’ ballroom.
“There’s still time to change your mind,” Jane said. “Lady Cameron has not yet announced your engagement.”
Sophia frowned at the hint of eagerness in her cousin’s voice. “It’s not my upcoming engagement that has made me uneasy, just the crowd.”
The room was packed with well over one hundred guests. Women paraded about in ball gowns of every color of the rainbow—from demure pastels to bright jewel tones. The gentlemen were not to be outdone, and Sophia observed a mix of austere grays beside painted popinjays dressed in flamboyant-colored coats with striped and checked waistcoats and intricately folded cravats.
She glanced longingly at the open French doors leading out to the terrace. She hoped a breeze would cool her overheated skin, but to no avail. The air was heavy with the scent of costly French perfume and well-dressed, perspiring bodies.
She smoothed the skirts of her emerald gown. She had taken great care with her appearance tonight, and she knew the gown’s color enhanced the vivid green of her eyes. The bodice was fashionably low, and an emerald necklace rested between her breasts. Matching emerald combs swept the sides of her chestnut hair away from her face, and loose curls fell down her back.
Jane
Ian was proficient, but Robert knew the question marks were just what they symbolized—guesses as to where the safes were hidden.
He would have to locate them on his own and find the best method of nondestructive manipulation. This time he wouldn’t remove the contents, only study them for clues. If all went as planned, Delmont would never know that the safes had been tampered with or their contents investigated.
Carefully he folded the map and returned it to the safe. His hand hovered above the miniature portrait before removing the small gilt frame. Pain and loneliness squeezed his heart as he studied the image. Even now, years later, each time he envisioned Gwendolyn’s death a primitive grief assailed him.
Her smile was just as he recalled, wisps of white-blond hair framing her heart-shaped face. She had been innocent, untainted by the evil and darkness that shrouded him. The talented artist had captured her green eyes perfectly…
He frowned. The image blurred before him, and he pictured another pair of green eyes. They radiated defiance and determination in their mesmerizing depths rather than sweet innocence. The hair was wrong…thick chestnut tresses tumbling in disarray…the lips full and sensual…the complexion not a pale hue, but a golden color that hinted at sunshine and brazenness.
Sophia.
When he had sent the note asking her to come to his home, he had planned on testing her…on dissuading her from the ridiculous notion that they could work together. He had waltzed with her, had kissed her, for Christ’s sake, in an attempt to make her run from him straight to Wendover and cry off. But his plan had backfired.
As soon as their lips had touched, she had been as passionate and responsive as an inferno. He recalled the lush ripeness of her body pressing against his, of the tentative stroke of her hot tongue meeting his, and of her green eyes shimmering in burgeoning sexual awareness.
His response had been instant and combustible; he’d had to use every ounce of discipline to break the kiss and rein in his lust.
His fingers clenched the portrait. Damnation. Why was he thinking of Sophia? It was the first time he had looked upon Gwendolyn’s portrait and thought of another woman. Guilt made his gut clench tight.
He refused to betray Gwendolyn’s memory in such a fashion.
Returning the portrait to the safe, he shut the door and put the stone back in place.
Chapter Eight
“I hadn’t expected this many people,” Sophia whispered to Jane behind her fan in the corner of the Camerons’ ballroom.
“There’s still time to change your mind,” Jane said. “Lady Cameron has not yet announced your engagement.”
Sophia frowned at the hint of eagerness in her cousin’s voice. “It’s not my upcoming engagement that has made me uneasy, just the crowd.”
The room was packed with well over one hundred guests. Women paraded about in ball gowns of every color of the rainbow—from demure pastels to bright jewel tones. The gentlemen were not to be outdone, and Sophia observed a mix of austere grays beside painted popinjays dressed in flamboyant-colored coats with striped and checked waistcoats and intricately folded cravats.
She glanced longingly at the open French doors leading out to the terrace. She hoped a breeze would cool her overheated skin, but to no avail. The air was heavy with the scent of costly French perfume and well-dressed, perspiring bodies.
She smoothed the skirts of her emerald gown. She had taken great care with her appearance tonight, and she knew the gown’s color enhanced the vivid green of her eyes. The bodice was fashionably low, and an emerald necklace rested between her breasts. Matching emerald combs swept the sides of her chestnut hair away from her face, and loose curls fell down her back.
Jane
Similar Books
