Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series) Read online

Page 10


  “But we searched both of them before leaving the area. They were clean.”

  Marcus linked his hands behind him and paced the room, trying to remember what had happened that day, but Isabelle’s face kept interrupting his thoughts. Her beautiful, sultry, innocent eyes and those kissable lips he couldn’t get enough of.

  Groaning silently, he closed his eyes. How could he concentrate like this? He counted the minutes until they would be together again.

  “Captain?”

  Marcus snapped out of his daydreams, realizing he stood in front of a wall. Blinking, he turned and strode across the floor back to the table. “All of this is giving me a headache. I cannot think straight.”

  Gabe chuckled. “Well, any man who had a lovely lady as his nursemaid would become flustered, and rightly so. Miss Stanhope is a sight for our lonely eyes, I must say.”

  Marcus couldn’t help but grin, although he should be upset that his friend would covet his servant. Then again, they had all been without a woman’s company for the same amount of time.

  “Exactly.” Marcus marched to the door and flung it open. “See to the things here. I’ve had a tiresome day.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Marcus wasn’t certain he liked the laughter in his friend’s tone, but Gabe knew what he’d been thinking. He and his friend were like brothers. Although Marcus had never been close to his own brother, he wanted to think this was what it felt like to trust someone so deeply he’d give his life for that person.

  Before going outside to check on things, he hurried to his room to change his mask. He pulled out the drawer to his desk. Instead of his fingers brushing by his mask, they bumped into a hard object. On closer inspection, he remembered putting the jeweled dagger Isabelle had stabbed him with in the drawer for safekeeping.

  As he pulled the weapon out, he smiled. Strange how quickly Isabelle had changed since that first day—and how he’d changed. No longer did he see her as his way of avenging her father. Now he enjoyed her company, and needed her by his side all the time. He desired her touch like a man does food. He craved her kisses like bees needed sweet nectar. Plain and simple, he couldn’t imagine being without her.

  He studied the dagger as it lay in his palm. Very expensive, to be sure. So where did Isabelle get it? She never told him. On closer inspection, he turned it over and looked at it from a different angle. The handle was wider than most he’d owned. Very peculiar… especially, the tip of the handle that looked as if a piece of paper was stuck in it somehow.

  He pinched the edge and pulled, and the paper kept coming. Soon a small script appeared with strange coding upon it. His heartbeat hammered as excitement shot through him. Could this be what he’d been after all this time?

  Carefully, he pulled until the paper wouldn’t go any further. He squinted, trying to read the small print, and recognized a few of the words. Royal Navy was one of them. Gritting his teeth, he held back a shout of victory. He couldn’t draw attention. Not yet. Especially since Isabelle was the one who’d had it on her person when they’d met.

  Coldness seeped into his chest, and his breath stilled. Had the spy been under his nose all this time? Could she have tricked him by making him crave her kisses so he wouldn’t suspect her true intent?

  Nonsense. She was far too innocent to be a spy for the Royal Navy. There had to be some other reason. Perhaps she had taken the dagger from one of the others who’d been traveling with her.

  With that explanation in mind, he ripped off the coded message. As he put the knife back in the drawer, he wondered what was in the message. The letters were too small to see, so he’d take it to his map room and use his magnifying glass.

  The room was empty when he entered, so he closed the door, lit the lantern, and proceeded to read the message with the magnifying glass. Apparently, the message alerted someone about a shipment coming from England that would arrive in New York within thirty days. This message was slightly different than the others he’d found. It didn’t suggest a treasure, but a shipment, instead. That could mean anything. He wished he could ask Isabelle, but she wouldn’t know, especially if she had obtained the dagger from one of the others in the coach.

  He placed the message with the others he’d gathered, turned off the lantern and left the room. Before going outside, he really needed to put on his other mask.

  When he entered, he stopped cold in his tracks. His heart dropped. By his bed holding the dagger stood Isabelle. Her eyes widened and her face paled. Guilt etched itself on her expression. Doubt crept inside him and he couldn’t shake it off this time. “What are you doing?”

  “I thought to clean the room, and well… I stumbled across this.” She laughed uneasily. “Were you going to give it back to me?”

  “I haven’t decided.”

  She shrugged and placed it back in the drawer. “Forgive me, but I really wasn’t probing.”

  He nodded stiffly. “Of course not.”

  She walked to him, kissed his cheek, and turned to leave. “I’ll fetch your dinner now if you’re ready.”

  “Actually, Isabelle, I’m not hungry, but you get a bowl of soup for yourself.”

  She smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

  Marcus sank to the edge of his bed as confusion filled his head. Had she really been a spy all this time and he’d been too blind and love-struck to see? She didn’t act like the spies he’d met. Then again, she had turned her attitude around quickly after he made her a servant.

  His mind returned to the dagger. A few times she had suggested wanting the weapon back. Obviously her reason behind the request had been a lie. She knew what secrets were hidden within the handle, which was why she wanted it so desperately.

  His stomach twisted. It couldn’t be true. No woman had ever fooled him. He was too smart for that. Yet Isabelle was an accomplished chameleon. Her actions that first day proved it. Why hadn’t he realized it then?

  Threading his fingers through his hair, he lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her intoxicating scent hung in his room, reminding him how close they’d become—how he’d come to trust her. He’d actually been happy and satisfied with a woman beside him. In a brief moment, he’d seen a future with her.

  Pain clenched his chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Why had fate decided to punish him this way? Then again, his life hadn’t been a happy one. He should be used to the feeling.

  Trying to ignore the crushing pain of betrayal, he growled and pulled himself off the bed. After changing his mask, he wrapped the dagger in one of his scarves and left the room. He marched back to the map room. This time, Gabe was there.

  His friend’s head snapped up. After a few seconds, his eyes widened. “Captain? Is something amiss?”

  Marcus threw the dagger on the table. “I found the secret document.”

  Gabe’s mouth dropped open. “It had been in the dagger this whole time?”

  “Yes.” Bile rose in Marcus’ throat, and he shook his head. “And Miss Stanhope is our spy.”

  “It can’t be!” Gabe scratched his head and paced. “We actually believed she was sorry for stabbing you.” He growled and swung around to face Hawk. “We all talked to her about personal things in our lives. Do you think she’ll use this information against us?”

  “I cannot answer that, but it’s what I suspect, as well.” Marcus released a pent up breath and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

  “What are we going to do?”

  Marcus wished he knew. Despair sank deep within him like a boulder in the sea. He should kill her. If he had discovered this information on the first day, he would have. Things have changed now. The spy had captured his heart, and although she conspired with the Royal Navy, his enemy, he couldn’t seem to give the order to have her killed. Yet he must.

  “Are you going to let Miss Stanhope know we are onto her little secret?” Gabe folded his arms.

  “No. I’ll act as if nothing happened.” Marcus collected the
maps then stuffed them into a trunk and locked it.

  “What are you going to do about Miss Stanhope?”

  Marcus stood and faced his friend. Agony gripped Marcus’ chest as he fingered the dagger still clutched in his hand. His throat squeezed tight with emotion. “She must die for what she’s done. There’s no other way.”

  Chapter Nine

  Marcus stood on the porch, clutching the wooden railing. The sun slowly dipped beyond the horizon, creating a beautiful orange and red sky. It looked like a storm was brewing. Although the scenery was surreal, agony gripped his heart.

  He must kill Isabelle.

  The longer he thought about ending her life, the more the ache in his chest grew almost to the point of suffocation. He devised plans in his head on how to go about doing it, but each way left a bitter taste of bile in his mouth. His stomach churned with indecision.

  Logically, he knew he couldn’t kill her, and it had nothing to do with the time they’d spent together. He just couldn’t kill someone that might know about the navy’s plans. If Isabelle were indeed a spy, she’d know secrets that would help Captain Hawk obtain his revenge.

  Wavy sandy colored hair blowing in the breeze captured his attention as Isabelle crossed the yard with Monkey. The boy motioned his hands in big circles, telling her some interesting story. The lad tended to over dramatize everything. Her eyes widened and remained on the boy. Marcus couldn’t help but grin. Indeed, she was very innocent. Although now he knew she played her part well. No wonder the Royal Navy decided to make her a spy.

  Monkey smiled, which made Isabelle laugh. She slid an arm around the boy’s shoulders and hugged him. Marcus’ stomach clenched. Already he missed her sweet laughter.

  When she pulled away from Monkey, her gaze jumped up and met Marcus’. She smiled and gave him a small wave. His heart leapt, and he cursed the reaction. He couldn’t let his feelings discourage him from what he needed to do. Hardening his heart against her was the only way to survive.

  Monkey pointed at a distance through the thicket of trees surrounding Marcus’ hideout, which took Isabelle’s attention off Marcus. He didn’t want her knowing his plans, but how could he act as if nothing happened? How could he refrain from shaking her senseless for her traitorous actions without wanting to pull her in his arms and kissing her endlessly?

  Her head snapped in his direction again, her eyes wide. She said something to Monkey before leaving his side and striding toward Marcus. He gripped the railing harder and took a deep breath. Pretending would start now.

  “Captain Hawk?” Her voice lifted as she climbed the steps. “Monkey tells me I’ll be returning to New York tomorrow.”

  “Yes.”

  “May I ask why?”

  Indeed, she was a gifted actress, because she almost appeared to be saddened over the news. She frowned, and her eyes held no light in them.

  “There is still much I need to do,” he told her. “We need to return to New York to get more supplies.”

  She stepped closer and touched his shoulder. It took all of his control not to yank her into his arms.

  “What, may I ask, have you planned for me?”

  Inhaling deeply, he reminded himself to act as if nothing was wrong… as if he was still the love-struck fool. “You’ll be released, just as I have promised, my dove.”

  “I see. Will you still find a solicitor to help me with my father’s estate?”

  “Indeed. I know a man who will help you. I’ll contact him immediately after we arrive.” He stroked her cheek and forced a smile. “Have I not followed through with my promises?”

  “Of course. It’s not that, it’s just—” She bit her bottom lip and looked away. Tears gathered in her eyes and she blinked them away.

  His heart wrenched. Why was she doing this? And why wasn’t he strong enough to fight the attraction between them? He couldn’t let her get to him. She was a spy for the Royal Navy, and a mighty good one at that.

  “What’s wrong, my dove?” With his fingers under her chin, he turned her face back toward him.

  No twinkle touched her eyes when a smile wavered on her face. Her drab expression tugged at his heart, and he willed it not to affect him so.

  “I’d hoped… Well, I have become rather fond of you, and it has been quite enjoyable being with you.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, even if humor wasn’t the emotion. “Oh, my dear, Isabelle. Are you saying you want to join my crew of cutthroats?”

  She scowled. “Well, of course not.”

  “So tell me why you’d want to stay with me if not to become a highwayman?”

  She stared at him with wide eyes. He knew why she wanted to stay, and if he hadn’t found the secret message in the dagger, he might have invited her to be his mistress. Thankfully, he stopped before making such a stupid mistake.

  “I—I hoped you wanted me to stay,” she said in a low voice.

  “Ah, but my lovely, there’s only one reason for you to stay.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “But alas, my life has more meaning than just frolicking with a passionate woman.”

  She huffed and pushed away from him. “Is that all I am? Just your entertainment?”

  He shrugged. “What more could there be, my dove?”

  Tears filled her eyes again before she swung away from him, marching into the house. His heart dropped the further away she moved. He would have wanted to be with her all the time, loving her and raising babies. But not now.

  Not ever.

  * * * *

  She must change his mind.

  Isabelle swiped the tears falling down her cheeks as she hurried into her room and closed the door. Wasn’t he getting closer to her as she was to him? Sometimes the way he acted, it was as if his heart softened the more they were together. Every time he’d kissed her, he’d put so much emotion into it. She knew for certain she loved him, but could she convince him he felt the same way?

  She fell on the bed and curled her knees to her chest, staring at the wall. Only a few hours to convince him. A few hours to show him she was the woman who’d change his life.

  Perhaps if she could remove his mask…

  Her heart beat with renewed life as she sat up. Was that the key? If she knew his real identity, he couldn’t possibly let her go. She smiled. That’s what she’d do. Somehow she’d get him to relax enough for her to remove his mask.

  She scrambled off the bed and changed her clothes into the red silk gown he’d given her. Tonight she had to be the most charming, most passionate woman he’d ever encountered.

  She didn’t hurry through fixing her hair, because there was still time to waste before Hawk retired for the night. He couldn’t know about her plans. Not until she was ready.

  Time passed slowly, and she paced the small space in her room. Hawk hadn’t called for her. Wasn’t it time for the evening meal? Nervousness twisted in her stomach and made it impossible to eat, let alone think of food right now.

  When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she left her room and walked the few steps to his. Moisture gathered on her palms, and she swiped them down the sides of the dress to dry her skin. Her heart knocked a quick rhythm against her ribs as she put her hand on the doorknob. Before she lost her courage, she pushed the door open.

  He stood next to the small desk holding a sheet of paper. His head jerked toward her. She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. His gaze darkened, but it was a different color than what she’d been used to seeing. Instead of tenderness in his eyes, anger coated them as if he wanted to shoot fire at her.

  Convincing herself she wasn’t the reason for his anger, she walked further into the room on shaky legs and shut the door behind her. His attention dropped from her face to slide over her gown. Within seconds, his dark eyes became the color she remembered. Passionate and soft.

  He placed the paper he’d been reading on the desk and turned toward her, still not saying a word. The silence bothered her, and she wished she co
uld read his expression. Since earlier that evening when they were outside, his eyes had held the most confusing emotions, and she couldn’t determine what was wrong. She wanted to scream until he explained why he acted in such a way.

  She cleared her throat. “You didn’t call for me to bring your dinner.”

  “I had no appetite this evening.”

  He answered too short and clipped.

  “Then would you like me to ready you for bed?”

  “No need. I can manage by myself.” He turned back to his desk and shuffled through papers.

  His rude dismissal left a hole in her heart and tightened her chest so she almost couldn’t breathe. Tears pricked her eyes again, but she refused to shed them. His behavior was unacceptable. She must find out why he treated her in such a way, and change his attitude. She had to make him love her.

  On unsteady legs, she walked behind him and ran her hand up his arm. He stiffened, but didn’t say anything. Taking this as a good sign, she pressed on and rubbed her palm up and down his muscles.

  “Hawk.” Her voice came out low. “I want to do this for you. If this is our last night together, I want to remember it… forever.”

  Tears collected in her eyes and she quickly blinked them away. She couldn’t let him see how this affected her. Not yet.

  Hawk remained stiff for a few silent minutes. Her heart pounded in a fierce rhythm. Surely, he would hear.

  He breathed a deep sigh before turning to face her. This time when he looked into her eyes, pity laced their depths. She couldn’t decide whether to become upset, or hold her tongue. She chose the latter.

  His gaze roamed her face, and hair. He grasped her shoulders as his thumbs rubbed circles on her skin. Tingles erupted, just as they always did whenever he touched her. She never wanted to be without this feeling again, but she feared he wanted to end everything.

  “You’re very beautiful tonight, my dear.”

  His tight voice let her know he fought his feelings. But why? “Thank you, Hawk. I wore this for you.”

 

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