Seduced by Love - Page 9

‘If we walk down to the end of the Garrison, then around on the other side we will be in time to find a late luncheon in Hugh Town,’ Emily suggested. The animals’ foolish stares were making her uncomfortable.

Blake stood up, cursing under his breath as his hair blew across his face. ‘Where has that thong gone? I must get this cut.’

‘I like it.’ She found the leather tie and handed it to him. ‘Why did you not have it cut in Spain?’

‘It made us less obvious. A group of unkempt men was less noticeable than if we all had fashionable London hair cuts. And then I got used to it and forgot it.’

‘Can you tell me about Spain?’ she asked as they began to walk. ‘I understand if it is secret. Were you spying?’

‘I will tell you, but do not speak of it,’ he cautioned. ‘And no, I was not spying: there were six of us, all in uniform beneath old greatcoats and cloaks.’

‘Behind French lines?’

‘Yes, scouting out fortifications and then arranging for the local guerrillas to carry out some sabotage.’

‘It sounds very dangerous.’ Emily slid her hand into the crook of his arm. ‘You are heroic.’

‘Hmm.’ He glanced down, grinned. ‘Thank you, my love.’ Emily’s heart leapt, disconcertingly, but it was only a thoughtless endearment, she realised. ‘Anyway, it took us a week to extricate ourselves and reach Gibraltar. The border with Portugal was far too hot to risk. Debriefing, sorting oursel

ves out, it all took time. Eventually I got a ship home. I was recovering from all the excitement quite well until I met a ghost on the battlements. I have probably got white hairs now.’

Blake would not tell her more, she guessed, her mind baulking at the effort of imagining the danger and the long escape across Spain. They walked back down the slope they had climbed.

The soldiers clustered around the gun emplacement looked up at the sound of their voices. The grass underfoot was slippery and she held tight to Blake’s arm. Beside her he felt strong and solid. She had taken that for granted when they were courting, she realised, and not thought about the dangers implicit in the uniform he wore with such distinction.

Emily slanted a look at her husband from under her lashes. She had fallen in love with a handsome face, a glamorous uniform and a dashing reputation. Now she saw the fine lines at the corners of those green eyes, the small scars, the marks of weariness and strain masked by hard-earned control. This was the face of a man who had lived and fought and yet could make love to a nervous bride with tenderness and humour. She had not really known him at all. And yet she loved him.

Solemnly Blake returned the salutes and turned away from the soldiers along the path. ‘You will have some martial chaperons if we stay on this track,’ he remarked.

‘There are no more troops in the emplacements until we are back to the Star Fort,’ she said. ‘Apparently this stretch of water can be properly watched from either end and they can man the guns if there is an alarm.’

After a few minutes they came to another banked circle on the low cliff edge, the sinister black barrels of three cannon pointing out to sea breaking into the edge. ‘You see, we have this one all to ourselves.’

Blake strolled through, leaned back against a cannon with his arms outstretched along the barrel and smiled at her. ‘You look extraordinarily lovely. And well loved.’

‘I think I have been,’ she said, walking up until they were toe to toe and she could rest her hands on either side of the narrow hips.

‘Look at me like that, madam wife, and I will have to make certain of that.’

What made her so bold she had no idea. Emily tossed aside her hat and knelt in front of him, her hands sliding round to cover the hard bulge that thrust at the front of his uniform trousers.

‘Emily.’ It was a gasp. ‘If you do that I will be hard pressed not to take you again here and now.’

The fall of his trousers was quite easy to undo, his erection too urgent to hide from her questing hands. Fascinated, aroused, she leaned closer even as his hands fastened on her shoulders as though to push her away… to pull her closer.

Close enough to kiss, close enough to take him between her lips, the soft, smooth skin over the iron-hard flesh sliding into her mouth with shocking rightness. She had loved his mouth on her, it seemed he felt the same about her caresses.

For a moment she felt uncertain, clumsy, then the subtle movements of his body guided her rhythm, the groans she tore from him encouraged her boldness and then the world consisted only of the heat and musk of his body, the slide of her tongue and lips, the knowledge that she was making love to the man she loved.

She felt him fighting the need to thrust deep, felt the climax take him, held him until he had stopped shaking, then let him pull her into his arms for his kiss.

It went on a long time until at last she stood resting against Blake’s chest, shaken by the intensity of her feelings for him while he murmured words she could not make out into her hair. Their lovemaking in the open air, under the sun, felt precious, special in a way that transcended the pleasure.

After a while he set his disordered clothing in order, kissed her again and, her hand in his, guided her back out onto the path.

Now, she thought, I can ask him anything.

Even so, it took a while to find her voice, to break into the magic. ‘Why did you not tell me why you had to go?’ Emily asked after a few minutes.

Tags: Louise Allen Historical
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