Angel Rogue (38 page)

She eyed him sternly. "You're not going to make some silly remark to the effect that since you ruined me, it's your duty to give me your name in holy matrimony, are you?"

"I might if I thought I had any chance of success, but I know you well enough to realize that such an argument would never work." He ran his hand down her body under the blanket. "Besides, you don't seem ruined to me. You seem quite enchantingly flawless."

She gave a low chuckle. It might not do to talk of love, but it seemed fair to say, "You're rather wonderful yourself. It was worth waiting."

He kissed the edge of her ear. "Good night, Kanawiosta," he murmured. "No more bad dreams for either of us tonight."

She rolled over and nestled her back against his front. Her body was so relaxed that she could have knotted herself up like a pretzel and still fallen asleep.

With such physical and emotional closeness between them, she could easily sense Robin's mood. The combination of confession and passion seemed to have greatly eased his inner darkness. Even if they had no future beyond the next few days or weeks, his innate strength and resilience should enable him to continue the healing process.

It was gratifying to have been able to help, though she suspected that her principal virtue had been her foreignness. It was often easier to reveal one's secret torments to someone with no connection to one's normal life.

She suppressed a little sigh. In spite of his proposal, she still couldn't see them as having a future together. He could tell her anything and it wouldn't matter, because she would not be there as a reminder of when he had succumbed to weakness.

Now she was the one thinking too much. All that mattered was that Robin had healing, and that she had tasted a sweetness and pleasure she would never regret.

Washed clean by the storm, the dawn sky was pale and clear when Maxie woke. It was nearing the summer solstice and the sun rose very early, so she couldn't have had more than two or three hours sleep, yet she felt amazingly refreshed.

Robin still slept, his spun gold head resting by hers and his arm across her waist. His face was peaceful and very young. Hard to remember his despair of the night before, or to believe that he had done the things he had; this morning he looked scarcely more than a schoolboy.

That image was belied by the scar on his side. She studied the location. It was a miracle that the bullet hadn't destroyed some vital bit of anatomy.

Her arm tightened around him. She really ought to wake him, but couldn't bring herself to do so. The previous night had been very special. Since they might never again be so close, she was reluctant to end the lingering magic.

She brushed a kiss against his hair. His absurdly long lashes swept up and he smiled at her. At close range, his azure eyes had the impact of a cannonball. If she weren't already in love with him, she would be after that lazy, intimate smile.

He murmured, "I always sleep well when I'm with you."

"The effect is entirely mutual." Touching the old bullet wound, she continued, "I suppose that this and your various other scars were received in the line of duty."

He nodded. "I got that one in Spain."

"What about the whip marks on your back?"

His expression became ironic. "I was innocent of the crime I was flogged for, but since my real actions would have hanged me, it seemed better not to defend myself."

"And your hand?"

He raised it so that the irregular outline was clearly discernible. "A determined gentleman wanted me to write a letter that would endanger a friend of mine. I was reluctant. After the fellow had broken several of the bones, I mentioned that I was left handed and couldn't possibly write anything."

She shuddered at the sheer coldbloodedness of the torture. "That must have been excruciating."

He made a vague sound of agreement. "It was several days before the bones could be set, which is why they aren't all straight. I was very fortunate that infection didn't set in and that the hand still works properly."

"You've lived altogether too exciting a life." She leaned forward and tenderly pressed her lips to the scar left by the bullet. The ridged flesh was rough against her tongue.

His nipple was only a few inches away. Curious whether it was as sensitive as hers, she nibbled her way over. The soft nub of flesh hardened deliciously against her tongue. No wonder Robin enjoyed kissing her breasts so much.

When she transferred her attention to his other nipple, he sucked in his breath. "Be careful, Maxima, or you might get more than you bargained for."

She glanced up, making her eyes wide and innocent. "How much more?" Her hand crept down his torso and curled around warm male flesh. He was already half erect, and he instantly firmed to full hardness.

His fingers dug into the sheets. Voice uneven, he said, "Aren't you sore after last night?"

She considered. "Not especially. All of those years of riding and walking, I expect." She began caressing him, her thumb stroking the rim of the velvety head. "I'm not sure I've got the knack of making love. More practice wouldn't go amiss."

He gave a gusty sigh of laughter. "You win, witch."

He made one of his lightning quick movements, as he had the night before when she had tried to waken him from his nightmare. Before she could blink, she was lying under him, but this time he was fully awake, his eyes alight with laughter and his hands and mouth spinning a web of intoxicating pleasure. He remembered precisely what she had liked the night before, and found a dozen new ways to please her as well.

When she was whimpering with desire, he entered her. He was very gentle at first. When it became clear that she felt no discomfort, he intensified his lovemaking, filling her with swift, hot pleasure.

As she hovered on the verge of shattering, he reversed their positions again so that she was above. She clung to him, feeling as if she were spiraling into the sky, higher and higher until she fell into the sun. As he poured himself into her, she splintered into fire, glorious and terrifying.

Then she collapsed, shaking, on his chest, her legs lying outside his. He had been right that she was getting more than she had bargained for. A woman might sell her soul in the hope of finding a lifetime of such delight. A good thing she'd been telling the truth when she said that a soul couldn't be sold, lost, or given away; otherwise she would be damned for eternity.

Robin lazily stroked her back, his affection as warming as his passion had been. When they had both recovered some semblance of sanity, he said, "Enough of letting chance control our journey. Today we go to London."

She raised her head and looked at him. "How? We haven't the money for coach fare, even from this distance."

He gave her a bright smile, the one she had always distrusted. "I'll explain later. But now we must rise so we can leave before the estate workers are up and about."

Working together, they removed all signs of occupancy within the hour. After a quick breakfast, they collected their knapsacks and left. It was still early enough that there was no one about to see the trespassers.

Their path took them by the stables behind the house. Instead of walking by, Robin swerved and went in a side door. Alarmed, Maxie followed into the dimly lit stable, where horses whickered drowsily at their entrance.

Mindful that grooms might be sleeping on the upper level, she kept her voice low, but still managed a full measure of outrage when she asked, "What are we doing here?"

"Finding transport." Calmly Robin walked down the aisle, studying the box stalls on each side. Most of the horses were for field work, but there were several riding hacks as well.

When he led a gelding from its stall, Maxie planted herself in front of him, fire in her eye. "Blast it, Robin, I don't want to be a party to horse theft. Or do you intend to turn these loose a few miles down the road, like you did with Simmons's nag?"

He circled around her and tethered the horse, then went for another. "Not this time. We're going to need the beasts for the rest of the journey."

"Robin!"

"Don't worry. I've written a note to explain what has happened to the horses." He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and spiked it on a nail that protruded from a post.

Not pausing to read it, Maxie followed Robin into the tack room. "You say you're not a thief or a swindler," she said tightly. "But you're not a spy anymore, either. The war is
over
. What the devil do you think you're doing?"

"We won't get into trouble." He lifted a saddle from a stand. "I know the owner of the estate."

She stared at him, her hands clenched. The feelings of trust and closeness were gone, leaving her baffled and uneasy. "Why the blue blazes should I trust your word, Lord Robert?"

The skin whitened over his cheekbones. "I'm sorry you feel you must ask that."

She took a deep breath, knowing that she was on the edge of saying something irrevocable. When she had mastered some of her anger, she said quietly, "I believe that there was honesty between us last night. But today is another day, and there is still far too much that I don't know about you."

"I'll answer any question you ask," he said gravely. "But… I would prefer to defer it until later."

Maxie wanted to weep with frustration. It was certainly possible that Robin knew the estate's owner, but it was equally plausible that he was indulging in a bit of casual larceny. When one has killed, seduced, and betrayed, taking two valuable horses might seem like a mere prank.

He balanced the saddle against his hip and lightly touched her cheek with his free hand. 'Trust me just a little while longer, Kanawiosta?"

When he spoke like that, she had no choice. She exhaled wearily. "In for a penny, in for a pound. But you can't postpone the day of reckoning much longer."

He sighed. "I know. But this journey has been a special time. It isn't only you I've discovered, but in a real sense, myself. I'm not quite ready to face reality."

She gave him a smile, a little crooked but genuine. "Are you proud of the fact that you can reduce me to a mound of quivering aspic, or is it unnoteworthy because you have that effect on all females?"

"You overrate my charm." He leaned over the saddle and gave her a quick kiss. "But I'm glad you're susceptible. It keeps the balance of power a little more equal."