Authors: Elizabeth Squire
Sin leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg so that his ankle rested upon his knee. ‘I didn’t know him. I only knew
of
him, and I certainly wasn’t aware of his connection with Allard. I went to him to see if I could learn more about the rumoured Jacobin plot. You see, he was once a very influential anti-Jacobin activist.’ He continued to study Liliane intently. ‘But I think you already knew that,
mon fleur
.’ His voice was oddly cold.
Liliane put down her cup. The china rattled loudly against the silence of the room and dark liquid sloshed over the side into the saucer. ‘Sin, you’re frightening me. What’s this about?’
‘Why don’t you tell me? After all, it’s beginning to look like the last contact my missing agent had was with the very man you were to arrange for me to meet. So tell me, why did you—and Solange—claim to have no knowledge of the missing British agents?’
Shards of ice scoured her from the inside out. This was pure insanity. Sin suspected her of being involved with the disappearance of his missing friend. What on Earth had Solange involved her in? ‘Sin,’ her voice felt jagged and untried. ‘I swear I had no idea about the connection. I only knew Lyon could help arrange a meeting with Allard. I thought Allard would be passing information to you about Napoleon’s troop movements.’
Several long seconds ticked by as Liliane waited for Sin to acknowledge her. The silence was excruciating. Finally, he nodded and the blood surged back through her body, leaving her dizzy in its aftermath.
‘I believe you.’
The air swooshed from Liliane’s lungs. Those three words felt like a benediction.
‘But—’
Oh God, it had only been a temporary reprieve.
‘But I think there’s more to your connection with Lyon then you’re telling me,
mon fleur
.’
Liliane swallowed down the acrid taste at the back of her mouth. How much could she tell him without revealing her true identity? Would he simply accept he was an old family friend, one she wished to re-establish a connection with?
She looked up to meet the weight of Sin’s eyes upon her. She closed her eyes, the horror of the words in Grandpère’s journal swimming before her. ‘Henri Lyon was a close friend of my grandfather, and one of my reasons for taking Solange’s place was so that I could meet him.’
She pulled the fob chain from about her neck. ‘You see, the last entry in Grandpère’s journal was a request that his pocket watch be given to Henri Lyon. I simply wished to honour his last wishes.’
She let out a deep sigh, praying Sin wouldn’t see through her deceit or suspect that there was much more she wasn’t telling him. Things Solange had sworn her to secrecy on, things she had pledged never to discuss with anyone else. But, Solange had reassured her, the outcome would restore the honour of the Desailly family.
Sin rose to his feet and walked around the table to stand before Liliane. Blood cascaded through her in a scalding waterfall as he reached a hand towards her and pulled her to her feet. Tugged her towards him until she stood flush against a column of unrelenting flesh and muscle. He lifted a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Liliane’s breath evaporated at the sensitivity of his touch.
‘I think,
mon fleur
, we need to get your watch to Lyon.’ He dipped his head and covered her mouth with his own. His lips moulded against hers and she felt all her doubts begin to dissipate. With a little shiver, she raised her arms and looped her hands behind his neck, her fingers entwining in the lush hair at the nape of his neck. She felt her shawl part and gave a startled gasp as her breasts flattened against his chest, the heat of his body bringing them to life. Sin took that opportunity to drag her bottom lip between his teeth and bite down.
Oh mercy.
Liliane squeezed her thighs and her inner muscles clenched, urging a drop of musk to coat her secret folds. The heat was scalding and she began to unfurl in response. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue forged in, sweeping away the last of her inhibitions.
Liliane breathed deeply. His breath enticed her with the aroma of coffee while his mouth tasted of the sweetness of strawberry jam. But it was the intimate clamp of his hands either side of her hips that branded her. She revelled in the possessiveness of his touch and reached higher, eager to claim more of him. Eager to learn more of the passions he unleashed in her.
She lifted to her toes and felt the outline of his arousal against her belly. As she moved Sin moaned against her mouth, the sound reverberating through her, her skin prickling in its wake. He hands tightened on her waist and he drew her hard against him until they were hip to hip, his hardness hot and conspicuous between them.
Sin ripped his mouth from hers, his breath short and panting. He dipped his head and placed a gentle kiss upon her nose before easing her away from him. ‘You drive me to the brink of insanity.’
He took several more deep breaths. ‘If we don’t leave this room soon, I’m likely to forget our circumstances and tumble you on that bed until the sun goes down.’ He placed another lingering kiss upon her mouth. ‘Finish your breakfast and get dressed. We should take advantage of our status as newlyweds, and tour the delights of Boulogne today. You were quite right last night with your assessment that the best way for us to be inconspicuous is to be conspicuous. It’s time to put De Bois to the test.’
***
Sinclair caught himself smiling as Liliane counted the steps to the top of the Belfry. Grasping hold of the rail, she paused to draw breath and looked up. ‘Only eight more to go! The view had better be worth it.’ She cast a glance back over her shoulder and looked back down at him. ‘Remind me, who’s idea was it to climb to the top?’
‘Oh, definitely yours as I recall.’ He followed her out onto the observation deck and leaned forward to rest his arms on the stone parapet that encircled it. ‘You insisted we take in the views.’
And a magnificent view it is
, he decided as he surveyed the woman before him. Everything about her tantalised him. She was astute and witty, but right now it was her physical allure that he was finding difficult to resist. The slight breeze had flattened her dress against her legs, revealing her delectable shape. Her skin was lightly flushed and she was breathing rapidly from the exertion of the climb.
His mouth dried as her shortened breath strained her breasts against the bodice of her blue woollen dress. The same dress that she’d worn last night. The colour reflected in her eyes, darkening them so they were almost purple. He moved to stand next to her and was enveloped in her subtle perfume. Roses, with the slightest hint of sandalwood.
Alluring
.
She turned towards him, her sapphire eyes sparkling with enjoyment. ‘This was definitely worth the climb.’
‘Yes, you get a good perspective of the original layout of the ancient settlement.’ He pointed down towards the town square. ‘If you look there you can see the original gates to the old city. And over there is where the cathedral stood; it burnt down during the revolution. The ancient crypts underneath survived, but they’re probably closed to visitors at the moment.’
Liliane looked to where he was pointing. ‘It’s hard to believe all of this has been here since the twelfth century. I’m fascinated that this Belfry once served as the old Count’s dungeon.’ She shivered. ‘Imagine being imprisoned here, chained to the walls with rats running around your feet. I think I’d die from fright before the first day was done.’
Sinclair laughed. ‘I think you’re letting your imagination run away with you, but I expect some terrible atrocities probably happened here.’
He smiled down at her but something near the ancient gates had attracted her attention. She lifted a hand to his wrist. ‘Sin, down there, across the road—does that look like De Bois’s men to you?’
Sinclair took a moment to study the direction she was pointing. ‘It’s hard to tell from this distance. I suspect they’re probably soldiers from the battalion stationed here, unless De Bois is making a late start to Paris, or they’ve changed their travel itinerary.’
Liliane nodded. ‘I enquired after them with the innkeeper. I was assured they’d departed early this morning.’
Sinclair looked down at the two soldiers for a moment longer. He wouldn’t put it past De Bois to be still following them. The announcement that he would be leaving for Paris had seemed an all too convenient excuse. If it was De Bois’s men shadowing them, then he needed to ensure they weren’t disappointed. Seeing Liliane start to turn away from the parapet he reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. The hitch in her breath prickled the hairs on the back of his neck, making him all too aware of her proximity.
Standing behind her, he slowly slid his hands down her arms until he encircled her waist and stepped into her, and swallowed hard. The swell of her ass against his cock was almost enough to bring him to his knees. She reached behind and grabbed hold of his wrists, whether to anchor herself upright or hold him to her, he wasn’t quite sure. He pressed deeper against her; she was so bloody soft and inviting. He ran a trail of kisses from the tender skin behind her ear, across her jaw and down the side of her neck, but he needed to be closer. The indentation at the base of her throat throbbed with the gentle beat of her pulse, enticing him to reach forward and dip his tongue into the hollow and sample her heat.
‘Wha—’ She tried again. ‘What do you think you are doing? Anyone can see us from up here.’
Sinclair licked the delicate shell of her ear. ‘And what’s the harm in that, sweet wife? We want everyone to see that we’re enjoying our honeymoon after all.’ He nuzzled her neck. It made no difference that she was right; he just needed to bury himself deep within her and let her magic incinerate him. ‘Turn around, I want to kiss you.’
Liliane pushed his hands away and stepped to the side. He was pleased to see she wasn’t any more immune to him than he was to her. Her skin was flushed and eyes slightly glazed. Unfortunately, she was made of sterner stuff. She hiked up her skirts and disappeared back down the stair well. ‘And I want to eat. Race you to the bottom, I’m famished.’
‘Me too.’ Just not necessarily for food.
Minutes later they laughingly stumbled out of the Belfry. ‘Unfair, you lifted me out of the way,’ Liliane giggled.
He grinned sheepishly. ‘Someone had to be there to catch you in case you tripped over those skirts of yours.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come, there is a restaurant just behind the town square that boasts the best seafood menu around.’
Sinclair guided Liliane towards the restaurant. Rounding the corner, he paused before a bookshop and studied the reflection in a shop window.
Blast it.
It seemed De Bois hadn’t departed for Paris, or if he had, he’d left his thugs to keep an eye on things. That was going to be bloody inconvenient.
By his side Liliane exclaimed, ‘Oh my,’ before disappearing into the little shop.
Checking again to see the Hussar soldiers loitering outside of a patisserie, Sinclair followed Liliane into the bookshop. He found her standing between the towering bookshelves holding an elaborately bound volume in her hands. She looked up at him, her eyelashes wet with unshed tears.
‘My mother used to tell me these stories all the time when I was a small child. She would recite them from memory. Charles Perrault’s
The Tales of Mother Goose
. She always promised she’d buy me a copy one day.’ A single tear splashed upon her cheek. Sinclair lifted a finger and wiped it away, but her misery burnt like acid upon his skin. He wasn’t accustomed to being so susceptible to the pain of another.
‘Did she ever buy you the book?’
‘No, she died.’
The air rushed from Sinclair’s lungs. Liliane’s words were unexpected and desolate in their finality. He felt their impact almost as if it had been his own mother who’d passed away. He watched as she reverently opened the front cover and traced the words on the page before her.
‘This one is a very old copy, an early edition.’ She sighed and placed it back on the shelf. ‘One day I shall return here and purchase it.’
Before he could say a word, Liliane turned and walked back outside. He stood before the bookshelf, picturing a sable-haired little girl curled up on her bed, her sapphire eyes luminous with delight as her mother spun words to draw pictures of make-believe and magic. His insides clenched with the inexplicable need to be the one to reignite that sparkle in her eyes.
‘It’s just a simple gift,’ he muttered to himself before retrieving the volume and handing over the money to the bookseller. Without stopping to give his motives further consideration, he tucked the book inside his coat and rejoined Liliane outside.
To his consternation, Felix and Hugot continued to dog their steps all the way to the restaurant. Oh well, they’d have a long wait outside in the cold while he and Liliane enjoyed their lunch. And there was no way in hell he’d be extending an invitation for the two buffoons to join them.
No sooner had they entered the restaurant than a waiter bustled over to them, a pristine white napkin folded across his arm and menus in hand. Within moments they were seated at an intimate window seat, the blazing fire at their backs. Only two other couples were in the restaurant, seated far enough away to guarantee them total privacy. Accepting the menus, Sinclair ordered them each a glass of white wine. ‘I hear the mussels are a local specialty. Are you willing to try them?’
Liliane studied the menu, her expression a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Putting it down, she smiled across at him. ‘They sound delicious. I think I’ll try the ones in the white wine sauce.’
Sinclair relayed their order to the waiter and sat back to study the woman before him. She was gazing out the lace-trimmed window watching a passing child spin a red hoop on a stick, a smile on her lips and her skin glistening in the soft winter sun. He didn’t feel the need to indulge in inane chatter with her. The silence was comfortable. If anything, he felt more connected to her. She turned to him and smiled, almost intuitively, and the blood in his veins started to simmer.