Page 102

“What does it say?”

“These are plans. The passageway for Prince Charles, the communications with the people who are supposed to meet him, and a list of allies and people they are planning to sway over to their side on the way. Wait, what is this?”

“What’s wrong?” Helen whispered, feeling frantic.

“Nothing, it just looks like there is a packet of documents that my father is supposed to ship out of the border… There are a couple of lords who might carry this crusade into England.”

“What does this—” Mean. She wanted to ask what any of that meant, only dull footsteps sounded on the other side of the door and Helen froze. “Someone is coming.”

Ian quickly gathered the documents, stuffed them back into the safe, and closed the door. “Come over here,” he commanded to the panicked Helen, who forgot what she was supposed to do, while he replaced the painting back onto its place.

Helen rushed toward him, but before she knew what was happening, he whirled her around, and perched himself against the desk, his back to the door. And then he put his lips on hers.

A heady rush assailed Helen and she forgot what was going on and even where they were. Ian kissed her hungrily like an animal denied sustenance for over a week finally getting his first meal. His tongue caressed her mouth in the most sinful of sweeps, and his hands traced her arms, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

“Are you ready?” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath tickling her skin.

“For what?”

He chuckled, then hooked his fingers down her bodice and pulled, baring her breasts. “For a tryst,” he said with his gaze still on her bare flesh. The cool air enveloped her skin and her nipples perked up into beaded peaks.

But she wasn’t cold for long, because the next moment, Ian’s mouth was on her, his hand caressing the free breast.

Helen threw her head back and let out a loud moan.

Just then the handle rattled and the door opened.

Chapter 25

Ian pretended not to hear the door open behind him as Helen’s trembling fingers sifted through his hair, then tightened, holding his head closer to her body. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, and she arched her back, pushing her breast further into his mouth.

She tasted like cherries, caramel, and everything that was right in the world. He never wanted to stop. His cock swelled and strained against the coarse fabric of his kilt, begging for release. His entire body tightened, and his hot blood rushed through his body, setting him on fire.

But he couldn’t get lost in this moment. As he clutched Helen close to him with his left arm, his mouth on her, his right hand was fastening the buttons of his waistcoat, hiding the documents he’d stolen from the safe.

He didn’t take all of them, just the ones he deemed essential. If they weren’t enough, he’d come back for the rest later.

There was a loud clearing of the throat, and Helen jumped in his arms, yelping in surprise.

She was either one hell of an actress, a genius spy in the making, or she’d completely forgotten where they were and why they were doing what they were doing.

Ian raised his head and threw a glance over his shoulder.

His father stood on the threshold with a deep frown on his face. His friend, one of the other allies of the Jacobites, Mr. Collins, stood by his side.

“What in the devil is goin’ on?” Atholl barked.

Helen trembled beside him, her fingers ineffectually tugging at her bodice. Ian held her close to him so that she wouldn’t be visible to the uninvited guests.

“Apologies, Father. Would you mind giving us a moment?”

Atholl’s frown deepened as he squinted at them. “Ian?”

“Yes, Father,” Ian said with a sarcastic note of obedience. “Would you mind if I escort my bride out of here without two pairs of disapproving eyes shaming her?”

The earl grumbled something under his breath and then he and his associate slowly walked out of the study, leaving the door open.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” Helen whispered over and over again, trembling before Ian.