Samantha (Barrett 2)

"You nearly killed me, my lady."

Leaning back, Sammy chewed her lip in mock dismay. "Are you implying you're already spent?" She sighed. "'Tis a pity. I had exhilarating plans for the remainder of the night." Seductively, she reached down to caress his length, feeling him harden instantly at her touch. "You see, I have yet to explore you, my lord. You've given me such intriguing possibilities to contemplate; ways that I might learn your body as you learned mine ... with my hands, my mouth." Her fingers paused, hovered. "But if you're too tired, I'll understand... ."

Sammy laughed softly as Rem seized her wrist, dragging her hand back to his throbbing body and showing her without words that he was, in fact, quite revived.

"I was going to find you in the morning, before I left Allonshire," Rem murmured, absently stroking the sable waterfall of Sammy's hair, which cascaded across his chest.

"Well, now you don't have to. I'm right here." Sammy closed her eyes, curled closer against Rem's powerful body. "Moreover, the morning would have been infinitely unsatisfactory. Why, all we could do was talk ... and probably not even in private. Whereas tonight..." She sighed contentedly.

A deep chuckle rumbled in Rem's chest. "Once wed, am I to expect my poor body to be repeatedly ravished by my innocent bride, then?"

"I'm afraid so, my lord. I find myself becoming quite addicted to your extraordinary skill and stamina. Do you mind very much?"

"I'll adapt." He caressed the smooth slope of her back. "With astounding ease, in fact." Abruptly, he rose onto his elbow and twisted around to gaze soberly down into Sammy's face. "I love you, imp. You've given me joy and laughter and enough love to heal wounds I always believed fatal. I want to give you the world, with all the magic you believe it holds ... to be every bit your hero." Rem stroked his knuckles across her cheek. "Dawn will be here in an hour. We need to talk."

Sammy regarded him with solemn understanding. "You're going to share all of yourself with me, aren't you? To tell me whatever it is you've been keeping from me?"

"This information has been undisclosed to anyone prior to tonight. To divulge who I am, what I do, could endanger countries, lives." Rem shook his head, negating the frightened widening of Sammy's eyes. "I'm not saying this to frighten you, imp. I'm just explaining why I've kept myself from you and why it's crucial that you understand the highly confidential nature of what I'm about to disclose."

"All right," Sammy whispered. "I won't tell a soul."

"I know you won't." A tender smile touched his lips. "I trust you with my life," he added, intentionally repeating the very words she'd used to him. "I work, not only for the Admiralty, but for the Crown. Since they approached me a decade ago, I've taken on numerous inflammatory missions, some on English soil, some abroad, all of which, if not successfully completed, could have meant disaster for our country."

"Oh my God." Reflexively, Sammy clutched Rem's arms. "You're telling me you're a spy."

"I'm telling you I've had the opportunity to preserve England's strength and to right some very ugly inequities, during both war and peacetime."

Sammy's mind was racing. "During our recent war with America ... ?"

"I moved among our fleet, assessing strengths, recommending tactics. On other occasions I performed a similar role in Europe."

"Europe? I don't understand. Napoleon's navy is no longer a threat."

"But Napoleon himself is." Rem's jaw set. "Was," he amended. "I've alerted Wellington to Napoleon's strategy for his recent insurrection. In short time, Bonaparte's reign will end ... this time for good."

"My head is spinning," Sammy whispered.

Gently, Rem ruffled her hair, trying to soften the impact. "Do I surpass even your Gothic novels?"

"Rem." Sammy pushed herself to a sitting position. "My novels are inventions of the mind. This is real... and dangerous." She swallowed. "I'm afraid."

"Don't be." He gathered her against him. "I'm completing my final mission. Once it has been resolved, I plan to resign."

"Because of me?" Sammy blinked back tears.

"Until now, my life didn't matter. Now it does."

"I should be noble, insist that you continue to serve England as brilliantly as you obviously have been." Sammy's voice quivered. "I can't. I love you too much. I can't lose you."

"You'll never lose me, imp. Never." He raised her chin, kissed her damp cheeks. "Don't cry." His dimple flashed. "Not unless your tears are spawned by passion or pleasure."

"Oh Rem." She flung her arms around his neck. "I'll fill your life with so much love ... I swear you'll never regret your decision."

Fiercely, he held her warm, soft body in his arms. "Ah, imp, from the moment you smiled up at me from that seedy counter in Boydry's, there was no decision to make. I was yours, body and soul ... even if I was too dull-witted to recognize it. The past is over, and I'm more than ready to let it go."

Sammy drew back, drying her eyes. "You said something about a final mission. It involves the missing ships, doesn't it?"

"Your novels have stood you in good stead," he teased softly. "Yes."