Chapter Ten

Elissa dressed with care for the empress’s ball, choosing a gown of deep plum brocade shot with gold. It was her most elegant gown, the only one she had brought lavish enough for such an occasion. She smoothed the high-waisted skirt while Sophie floated around her, fussing over her hair and checking last-minute details.

“You mustn’t forget this, milady.” The slight, dark-haired girl handed her an elegant painted fan boasting an English sunset in colors of plum and gold.

“Thank you, Sophie.” Elissa leaned down for a last glance in the mirror and surveyed her hair, pulling a blond curl back into place beside her ear. Tension sizzled along her nerves as she thought of the evening she had planned—a night that included invading the general’s private quarters.

Sophie sighed. “You look beautiful, milady. I hope you have a wonderful time.”

Elissa smiled. “Thank you, Sophie.” With a last deep breath, she fled the room. In truth, the best time she could possibly have would be finding a connection between Steigler and the Falcon—and getting away unscathed, as the duchess would have said. Whatever the evening held in store, she prayed it would not include getting caught like a common thief.

She paused at the top of the stairs, her gloved hands gripping the gilded banister. On the marble floor below, in full-dress uniform—solid white except for a crimson collar and cuffs and row upon row of heavy gold braid—General Steigler stood waiting. The sight of his coolly ominous figure made the air compress in her lungs.

“Lady von Langen.” His black eyes seemed to gleam with an unholy light as he surveyed the low-cut bodice of her gown, his gaze crawling over the tops of her breasts.

Elissa suppressed a shiver. “Good evening, General. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

Something flickered in his expression, then it was gone. The general bowed over her hand. “A small wait is hardly important. Shall we go?”

Elissa took his arm and they made their way out to the carriage. There were others in their party, she saw as she climbed in, a colonel named Fleisher and his wife, who had attended Major Holdorf’s birthday supper, as well as a general named Oppelt she hadn’t met before. It was a small measure of comfort not to be riding with Steigler alone.

They chatted pleasantly on the way to the emperor’s villa, a huge stone structure originally built as an abbey that had been added onto and restored over the years. With its rounded, cone-shaped towers and countless chimneys, the house had a slightly medieval air, yet the windows were large and plentiful, admitting the sunshine the emperor so enjoyed when he was in Baden.

The house was overflowing with dignitaries by the time they arrived. With the men in their flashy military dress, the women in their diamonds and pearls, they glittered like royalty, yet Steigler’s presence, along with that of General Oppelt, caused a perceptible stir. It was obvious they were men of the emperor’s innermost circle, for he greeted them personally and with noticeable warmth.

Which meant, Elissa thought, that Steigler had access to the emperor’s most guarded secrets, just as she had believed.

Steigler smiled and took Elissa’s hand. “Your Majesty, I should like to present the Countess von Langen.” He bowed and drew her forward. “She has been eager to meet you.”

Elissa dropped into a deep, graceful curtsy, trying not to feel guilty for the deceit she was committing in what she hoped was a very good cause. “Your Majesty, I am honored.”

“The honor is mine, Lady von Langen.” He was a tall, lean, elegantly built man in his early forties, thin-faced and graying, yet there was an aura of strength about him and intelligence in his eyes. “I was acquainted with your late husband,” he said, “though we met on only a single occasion.”

Elissa wet her lips, suddenly nervous again. “I—I didn’t realize you knew him.”

“As I said, we met only briefly.” He smiled. “Perhaps you and I shall have the chance to become better acquainted.” He surprised her by offering his arm. “Come, I shall introduce you to the empress. Perhaps after that you will wish to dance.”

Elissa relaxed a little and smiled. She liked this man, Francis I. He was shrewd and he wanted to win this war against Napoleon. Perhaps, once she had proof of her claims, the emperor would help her.

The evening progressed hour by hour, Elissa smiling and dancing several times with Steigler, but instead of going off with his friends as he usually did, the general remained unfashionably close at hand. The sweeping grand staircase beckoned, leading to the rooms and suites upstairs. She knew which suite was his—she had bribed a servant to tell her, implying an illicit rendezvous sometime later in the evening.

It was embarrassing to pose as the general’s mistress, even to a servant, when in fact she was doing everything in her power to keep it from being the truth. But she smiled and fluttered her lashes and learned that his suite sat at the far end of the east wing, the one with the wide double doors.

Now, if she could only get away from him long enough to steal upstairs, search his room, and return undetected …

He was standing just a few feet away. She watched him from beneath her lashes, saw a footman approach and hand him a note on a small silver salver. Steigler plucked the note from the tray, scanned it quickly, then ordered the servant to relay a message to the sender that he would soon be on his way.

Smiling, he closed the short distance to where Elissa stood, an unmistakable eagerness gleaming in his cool, dark eyes. “A courier has just arrived. Apparently there is news of some importance. The emperor has requested my presence. It probably won’t take long, but I cannot say for certain.”

He bent forward and whispered in her ear. “Enjoy yourself while I am away, Elissa. Just remember to keep me in your thoughts.” His breath whispered past her ear in a moist, suggestive manner, and an unwelcome shiver passed down her spine.

Elissa firmly ignored it. She was her mother’s daughter. Surely she could play this simple part. Gazing up at him through eyes liquid with warmth, she graced him with her most seductive smile. “I shall think of you, mein General, you may be certain. I shall be waiting with eager anticipation for your return.”

He brought her gloved hand to his lips, lingered over it longer than he should have, finally turned and walked away.

Elissa breathed a sigh of relief. Sweet God, she really must be a competent actress if she could make him believe she found him the least bit attractive when in truth he made her skin crawl. She was pondering her success as she watched him disappear, worrying only vaguely how she would extricate herself from his clutches if her upstairs mission failed.

She counted to ten, turned toward the beautiful grand staircase—and stopped dead at the sight of the tall man lounging against the wall, watching her with menacing calm.

Adrian. Dear, sweet God, what is he doing here? She’d been certain he would still be in Vienna. Clearly he was not. Seeing his coldly furious expression, there was no doubt he had witnessed her flirtatious exchange with Steigler—anger seeped from every muscle and sinew in his body. Glittering green eyes speared her with silent accusation. Beneath his casual pose, his body thrummed with tension that tightened the lines of his face.

Her legs felt too shaky to move so she stood where she was, thinking surely he meant to confront her. Instead he turned and walked away.

Relief trickled through her, yet her heart pounded frantically. She felt an odd, regretful twist as she eyed the place he had been, then her gaze swung nervously toward the door leading out to the foyer. Did she dare to go forward with her plan? If she tried to go upstairs, Adrian might see her. As angry as he was, there was every chance he would follow. God only knew what he would do if he caught her in Steigler’s room.

She stared at the doorway, wondering where he might have gone, then saw a footman rounding the corner in her direction. The man didn’t stop until he reached her, his posture nearly as erect as Adrian’s always was. Extending a white-gloved hand, he held out a silver salver and Elissa snatched up the folded piece of paper on the tray.

Inscribed in a man’s bold hand, the words read simply: The Roman Room. Now.

Elissa stared at the footman, her pulse hammering madly.

“You will find the room at the rear of the house,” the footman said. “The colonel will be waiting.”

Her stomach knotted with dread. He had seen her with Steigler, flirting with the man like a brazen hussy. Dear God, what must he be thinking?

“Thank you,” she said to the footman, who turned and walked away while Elissa still stood frozen. Adrian demanded she come to him and expected her to obey, as she had agreed. If she didn’t, he would go to the ambassador, mayhap even broach his suspicions to the general.

Dear God, she couldn’t let that happen. Forcing a stiffness into her spine that matched that of any soldier, she started across the room in the direction he had pointed, but Robert Blackwood stepped in her way.

“I couldn’t help noticing the footman’s approach, my lady, and you look a little pale. I trust nothing untoward has occurred?”

Elissa forced a smile. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I’m a bit tired, is all. Thank you, Robert, for your concern.” He made a slight bow, and she continued past him, out of the ballroom into the entry then down the hall to the room at the rear.

The door was closed. She turned the gilded handle and walked into a marble-floored salon hung with dark blue velvet draperies and lined with sculpted busts of Roman emperors. Since the waters at Baden had been used since the Roman occupation, she supposed it was fitting, yet their icy marble eyes were somehow disturbing.

A sound drew her attention. Elissa turned toward the tall man standing at a sideboard against the wall where he had poured himself a brandy. “You’re late.” His scarlet tunic and white breeches glittered with buttons and braid, but they couldn’t compete with the fierce glint in his eyes.

“I—I’m sorry. I came as quickly as I could.”

He said nothing as he approached, just stepped past her, closed the door and slid the latch, locking them inside.

Elissa moistened her lips, which suddenly felt dry. “When … when did you get back?” She fidgeted beneath his close regard, nervously toyed with the fingers of her long white gloves.

“I only just arrived. Oddly enough, I found myself eager to return. I was looking forward to your company.” A hard smile curved his lips. “I could tell when I got here just how eager you were to see me.”

She flushed guiltily, damning Steigler and the situation she found herself in. Then she thought of the cold way Adrian had left her and forced her chin into the air. “From the message you sent, I find it difficult to believe you thought of me at all. The general’s escort was arranged some time back, and even if it hadn’t been, whom I spend my time with is none of your concern.”

A muscle tightened in his jaw. “You’re right, Countess. You may do whatever you wish … as long as I have no need of you. At present, however, that is not the circumstance.” He set his brandy glass ringing on the table and walked behind the sofa that sat in front of the fire.

“Come here … angel.” The rough male cadence of his voice slid out on a dangerous growl. His eyes, a deep jade green, moved with undisguised heat over her body. They left no doubt of his intention, and the fact that he meant to have her made a knot contract in her stomach. At the same time she felt oddly aroused.

She glanced with longing toward the door, wondering at the crush of people just beyond, then took a tentative step in his direction.

A sleek, dark brow arched up at her timid approach. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

Her chin went up. “No. Should I be?”

“Not of what is about to happen. Of other things, perhaps.”

She didn’t like the sound of that, but she let it pass, continuing until she stood in front of him. The faint sound of laughter drifted through the walls and she thought that she must be wrong, that even Lord Wolvermont wouldn’t have the audacity to make love in the emperor’s drawing room.

“You don’t really mean to—” He cut off her words with a kiss, a fierce, possessive invasion that showed her how angry he was. For a moment she stiffened, her hands coming up to his chest, pressing against the rigid muscles there, trying to free herself from his grasp. Then the kiss began to gentle. Hard lips softened to firm, warm promise, molding themselves to hers, sending a jolt of heat into her belly.

His hand cupped the back of her neck, drawing her forward as he deepened the kiss, tasting the inside of her mouth. Her knees felt weak and her breasts began to swell, her nipples rubbing painfully against the stiff brocade of her bodice. He must have sensed it for his hand moved there, slid inside to cup the fullness, gently kneading, teasing the ends into tight little buds.

A faint moan escaped and the hands on his chest crept slowly around his neck. She didn’t want Steigler. If only she could tell him. It was Adrian she wanted.

He loosened several buttons at the back of her gown with the same deft skill he had shown before, allowing it to gape open, giving him freer access to her breasts. He squeezed each one gently, then lowered his head and took one into his mouth, sucking hard on the ends, making them stiffen and tingle.

Liquid heat moved through her, curling low in her stomach, fluttering over her skin. Her breath came in shallow little gasps and moisture slid into her core. She was trembling now, wanting him as she always seemed to, certain he wouldn’t really take her—not here.

“Turn around,” he whispered, hot kisses trailing along her neck, his teeth nipping into the lobe of an ear. She did as he asked, wondering what he meant to do, certain he would stop, beginning to pray that he wouldn’t, that his mouth and hands would continue their magic.

The back of the sofa formed a soft blue velvet cushion beneath her stomach as he bent her over, dragged up her skirt and chemise and bunched them around her waist. Cool air rushed over her bare skin and she gasped, uncertain of his intention, embarrassment making her face go warm. She tried to turn, but he forced her back down.

“Take it easy. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But—”

“You agreed to this. By God, you’ll keep your word.”

She started to protest, to fight him if she must, but the notion died away at the feel of his big hands stroking over her hips. He kissed the nape of her neck, his voice rough and husky against her ear.

“Such soft, smooth skin. It feels like silk beneath my fingers.” His hands cupped her breasts, gently teased the ends, and heat roared through her blood. His tongue ringed the rim of her ear.

“You want this as much as I do,” he whispered. “I can feel it wherever I touch you.” He proved it by sliding a hand over her bottom, gently kneading, sending warm shivers across her skin.

“Part your legs for me, angel.”

She whimpered but did as he asked. His hand laced through the pale hair between her legs, and a finger slid deeply inside her. He stroked her, worked the tiny bud at her core, and she trembled.

“That’s right,” he said. “Give yourself over to me. Let me make it good for us both.”

She heard the buttons on his breeches popping open one by one, felt the thick ridge of his shaft as he positioned himself behind her. He stroked her again, deeply, relentlessly. Parting the slick folds of her sex, he slid himself inside her, burying himself completely with a single deep thrust.

Elissa gasped at the feel of him, at the raging heat that tore through her body. For a moment he just held her, giving her time to adjust to his size and length, then he began to move. She could feel the heavy thrust and drag, and splinters of heat broke over her. He was gripping her hips now, dragging himself out, then thrusting deeply back in. Out and then in, out and then in. The pleasure was nearly unbearable. Unconsciously she arched her back, taking him even more deeply, and Elissa heard him groan.

His hands increased their hold. “Damn you,” he swore, so softly she almost didn’t hear him. Then the pounding increased and the memory of his harsh words faded away. She felt his body tighten, and her own responded in rhythm to his. Three more deep, pounding strokes and she climaxed in long, bone-melting waves, carrying Adrian to release in her wake.

In silence, they stood locked together, hearts pounding, heads bowed, neither of them speaking, both of them trembling. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as they spiraled down. Eventually her senses returned and she was able to focus her thoughts. When she did, she felt the whisper of his handkerchief between her legs, then he was lowering her skirts and fastening the back of her gown, turning her to face him.

Except for the wayward dark brown lock of hair curling over his forehead, he looked as immaculately dressed and perfectly groomed as he had when he had arrived in the drawing room.

A glance in the tall gilded mirror across the way said her appearance, however—

Dear God, she looked like a just-bedded trollop!

She gasped at her image and her cheeks flamed bright red. Lips ripe and swollen from his kisses, a dappled flush of crimson over the tops of her breasts, wisps of her sleekly styled, perfectly coiffured hair curling in disarray around her face.

“Oh, dear God,” she whispered, “what have I done?” Steigler was out there waiting, the emperor and empress, the duchess, and God only knew who else. She was supposed to be polished and sophisticated, a married woman who knew how to deal with such matters, but she wasn’t—not really. At the moment she felt more like a lost little girl.

She lifted her gaze to Adrian, fighting to hold back tears. “I c-can’t go out there. I c-couldn’t possibly face all those people.” She searched his face, but saw only a handsome, distant stranger. He had taken what he wanted, now he would leave her to face the consequences alone. She bit down on her lip, trying not to cry, but suddenly it all seemed more than she could bear.

Karl and Steigler. Losing her innocence to Adrian. Trying so hard not to fall in love with him. She swayed against the sofa, a sob escaping, a hand going up to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Adrian muttered a curse. “Dammit, stop crying. You haven’t done anything as bad as all that.” Striding forward, he gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. At her ravaged expression, his hard grip gentled, and a sigh whispered past those sensuous, ruthless lips.

“Stay here,” he instructed. “Lock the door behind me and don’t let anyone in until I return.”

She looked up at him and felt a surge of hope. “You’re coming back?”

“What choice do I have? I can hardly leave you like this.”

She swayed against him, rested her hands on his chest. “Take me home, Adrian. Please … I just … I just want to go home.”

He grumbled something she didn’t quite catch, gently detached himself and stepped back. “Just stay here—and dammit, don’t cry.”

Dashing the tears from her cheeks, she followed him to the door and locked it behind him, then waited tensely for his return. It seemed like hours before she heard his footsteps in the corridor, though in truth less than fifteen minutes had passed. At the sight of his tall frame stepping through the door, her plum brocade cloak thrown over a powerful arm, relief swept through her so strong it made her dizzy.

“I’ve spoken to the duchess,” he said, draping the cloak around her shoulders. “I told her you were indisposed, and that I would be seeing you home. She’ll make whatever excuses are needed.” He pulled up the hood, hiding her tear-stained face. “There’s an entrance at the side of the house. My carriage is waiting. Let’s go.”

The stirrings of a smile edged her face. She should have known he wouldn’t abandon her. It was his fault this had happened, yet in truth, she had wanted it as well. And it definitely could have been worse. Taking his arm, she let him guide her into the hall, around the corner, and out the door at the side of the house. In minutes they were cocooned inside the carriage.

She studied him from the shadows of her hood, uncertain what she should say, yet oddly unwilling to sit there in silence. “The hour is still early. I suppose you’ll be returning to the ball.”

He smiled thinly. “Considering our unscheduled departure, I think it’s a good idea, don’t you?”

She didn’t answer. Deep down she was grateful to be leaving, grateful that no matter the reason, she had again been spared dealing with Steigler. She wondered how the general had taken the news of her departure, and a few moments later, Adrian mentioned his name.

“I realize, for the most part what you do is your own affair, but I want you to stay away from Steigler. There are things you don’t know about him, things—considering your limited experience with men—I don’t think you’re ready to handle.”

A chill swept through her, raising goose bumps over her skin. “What … what sort of things?”

Adrian frowned. “It’s obvious Steigler desires you. He wants you in his bed and he’s ruthless when it comes to getting what he wants.”

A sound of disbelief came from her throat. “And you’re not, Colonel Kingsland?”

A corner of his mouth curved up. Beneath the flare of a passing streetlamp, their eyes met and held. “Touché.” He settled his broad shoulders back against the seat. “I’ll grant I am used to having my way, but I’ve never raised a hand against a woman. What a man does in bed is his own business, which is why I’ve said nothing so far. The truth is, Steigler enjoys hurting women. He’s usually willing to pay for his pleasures, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take what he wants if he’s forced into that position. I don’t want to see you get hurt, Elissa.”

She glanced out the window, suddenly chilled to the bone. Still, her voice remained light as she responded. “Thank you for your concern, Colonel, I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

Adrian swore beneath his breath. Leaning forward, he gripped her shoulders, his fingers biting in, shaking her until the hood slid off her head. “Stay away from him, Countess—do you hear? That is another order I expect you to obey.”

Elissa said nothing. More than his words, the fierce look in his eyes kept her silent. Oddly enough, if ever there was a command she wanted to follow it was that one. She closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t be able to, wondering how, if what Adrian said was the truth, she would be able to protect herself and still uncover the Falcon.