Chapter Nine

Monday night arrived at long last. As he had promised, Adrian stood waiting at the bottom of the marble staircase in the foyer. He drew the watch fob from the pocket of his scarlet tunic and checked the time, then frowned to see that Elissa was late.

At ten minutes past the hour, she appeared at the railing, her chin held high, though her face was decidedly pale. She watched him a moment, her hesitation apparent, then stiffened her spine and gracefully descended the stairs.

Adrian smiled. “Good evening … my lady.” He bowed with exaggerated care over her white-gloved hand, wondering if the title had any basis in fact. Perhaps she was simply a clever little vixen who had skillfully duped them all.

“Good evening, my lord.”

He studied her from beneath his dark, arched brow. “I thought perhaps you had changed your mind.”

“Did you? And if I had done so, I suppose you would have had an interesting evening with Ambassador Pettigru.”

His smile turned slightly mocking. “Exactly so.” He extended his arm and she took it. “I’ve a carriage waiting out in front. I trust you’re looking forward to the evening.”

Her spine went a little bit straighter but she looked him in the eye. “Of course.” She let him guide her through the doors and down the front-porch steps, and a footman opened the carriage door. Adrian settled a hand at her waist to help her climb in and realized she was trembling.

Inwardly he flinched. He didn’t know who she was, but it wasn’t like him to be overly cruel. He wanted her, yes, but he wasn’t an ogre. She was young and she was frightened and he had hurt her before.

“I realize this is new to you,” he said softly, “but there is no need for you to be frightened. Things went badly before. I intend tonight that they will be different. I promise I will not hurt you.”

Her gaze came up to his face. “I am not frightened.”

He smiled, admiring her bravado, recognizing the lie in her eyes as he had done before. “Good. Then you won’t be afraid to trust me to see to your welfare. In this I know very well what I am doing.”

Her mouth went a little bit thin. “I do not doubt it, my lord.”

He smiled to himself, liking her spirit. In truth, he liked a great deal about her. The fact that she was a liar was not among them.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a glance out the window as the carriage rumbled along.

“I’ve made arrangements. There is a place I know … a spot where the mineral baths can be taken in private, if one has money enough. The place is ours for the balance of the evening.”

Elissa’s golden eyebrows went up. Her interest had been piqued, he saw, though it was definitely against her will. “We are going to the baths?”

“That is correct. The water is warm and relaxing. Surely you’ve heard it is supposed to have great medicinal qualities.” Among other things, he thought. Like easing the fears of an innocent young woman who had yet to discover the pleasures of the flesh.

“I—I have been wanting to go there. I had meant to ask the duchess.”

He smiled, pleased he had made the right choice. “Now you won’t have to. I shall take you in her stead.”

She said nothing more until their arrival, just leaned back against the tufted leather carriage seat. She was dressed elegantly but simply tonight, in a high-waisted gown of moss green silk bordered in black Belgian lace. She looked coolly reserved, but soon enough he intended to change that.

They traveled through town at a steady pace and arrived at a three-story building not far from the main spa in the park. Adrian helped her descend the iron stairs of the carriage and they made their way inside.

“There are dressing rooms through that door over there. You’ll find towels and a sheet to wrap around you. The baths are found in a covered area at the rear.”

She glanced in the direction he pointed, nervous once more, her pretty blue eyes dim with worry.

Adrian reached for her hand, which felt cold and a little bit shaky. “Listen to me, Elissa. There’ll be no rush this night. You may enjoy the baths, as you have wished. In time I’ll join you there.”

She nodded, appeared to relax a bit.

“Turn around,” he said, “and I’ll help you unfasten your gown.”

She hesitated only a moment, turned and let him push the tiny jet buttons through their loops. “Thank you,” she said softly when he had finished, holding the bodice up over her breasts.

Adrian merely nodded. Already he was hard and aching, and the evening had only begun. He had meant what he had said. Tonight he wouldn’t rush her. He watched her disappear into one of the private dressing rooms, then did the same himself, removing his clothes, hanging them on large wooden hooks along the walls. He wrapped a sheet around his waist and tucked it in, then padded toward the steamy chamber built over a bubbling hot spring at the rear of the building.

He was the first one there, which didn’t surprise him. Tossing the towel away, he waded into the water and disappeared in the hot, dense steam.

*   *   *

With a sigh of resignation, Elissa wrapped the sheet around her, pulled it beneath her arms, tucked it securely between her breasts, and made her way to the bathing room. It was dimly lit, with a low-beamed ceiling and plain whitewashed walls. A single oil lamp burned on a table. A stone-lined pool filled most of the chamber, disappearing into the darkness, steam rising up in wispy drifts above the water. Broad, flat steps led down into the shallow depths that smelled faintly of sulfur.

She glanced around for Adrian, but she didn’t see him. Perhaps he meant for her to enjoy the baths as he had said. Turning back toward the pool, she watched a soft spiral of steam float above the surface that seemed to beckon her forward. The sheet felt suddenly confining, and what did it matter? Adrian had seen her before, and even if he hadn’t, he had come there with a purpose. She knew without doubt this time he would not be deterred.

Her hands were surprisingly steady as she untied the sheet, draped it over a wrought-iron bench next to the table against the wall, and started down the steps into the pool. The water felt exquisite as it swirled around her hips, immersing her in its soothing warmth, draining some of the tension from her body.

She sank down in the shallow pool and the water surged over her shoulders. Leaning back, she rested her head on the stones along the edge, closed her eyes, and forced herself to relax. Only the faintest movement of the water told her he was there, that he had been there in the shadows all along. He said nothing as he drew near, nothing as he sank into the water beside her, braced his hands on each side of her face and bent down to kiss her. She could feel his body brushing hers, as solid as she remembered, smooth, sun-darkened skin over muscles honed of steel, and her heartbeat suddenly quickened.

His kiss came more gently than she had expected, just a tasting of lips, the glide of his tongue, the warmth of his brandy-flavored breath. He lifted her arms around his neck and slowly came to his feet, bringing her up with him. Her body clung wetly to his, her breasts formed soft hills against his chest, and his springy dark hair teased her nipples.

A small flame ignited, a warm, teasing heat she hadn’t believed she would feel. It blossomed as he kissed her, slanting his mouth over hers, molding them perfectly together. His tongue slid between her lips, tasting her, urging her to respond, and amazingly she did. Her blood was pulsing faster now, making her slightly light-headed. The water in the pool lapped slickly against her hips, the sensuous rhythm matching the thrust of his tongue. She tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him back, opening her mouth to him, urging him to deepen the kiss.

His hands cupped her breasts, molding each one, budding the ends, making them swell and ache softly. Then his mouth slid there to ease the ache, but it only seemed to grow more fierce. He laved her nipples, circled them with his tongue, pulled the fullness between his lips and suckled gently.

Sensation overwhelmed her. Her legs felt suddenly weak and wildly unsteady. Her stomach sank as if the stones beneath her feet had suddenly dropped away.

“Adrian…” It came out on a soft breath of air and he recognized it for the plea it was. A big hand settled at her waist and he drew her closer, then he was lifting her up, setting her down on the steps at the edge of the pool, kissing her and filling his hands with her breasts.

“Adrian … dear God…”

Soft, moist kisses trailed along her jaw, down her throat, and across her shoulders. He kissed her breasts, then moved lower, across her rib cage, across her stomach. His warm tongue ringed her navel, then he moved lower, pressing her backward, his mouth hot and possessive, burning a path across the flat spot between her hipbones.

Her legs were slightly parted, she realized, and Adrian knelt between them, widening the distance between her thighs, his shoulders casting broad shadows against the surface of the water. Elissa gasped in shock as he settled his mouth over the tiny bud at her core. She tried to push him away, but he held her fast, his tongue sliding in, a hot wave of pleasure jolting through her.

Oh, dear God. Of all the things she had expected him to do, this was surely not among them.

He tasted her with steady purpose, his tongue slick and moist, and waves of heat scorched her insides. His hands gripped her thighs and he spread her even wider, took her even more deeply, and she thought that she might die of the pleasure.

It was wicked. It was sinful. It was surely the most incredible thing she had ever experienced. God in heaven—his hands and his mouth were everywhere, touching her, claiming her, and suddenly she was burning out of control. Something was happening inside her, a thick knot was forming, a spiraling heat that made every muscle and cord tighten inside her.

“Adrian…” she whispered, mindless with heat and need, feeling as if she were about to fly apart. A cry escaped, a moan of unbearable pleasure, and the world seemed to crash in on top of her. Bright lights flared. Pinpricks of sweetness rippled across her skin. Her body went taut then suddenly felt limp and boneless.

Adrian came up over her, his body raining droplets of steamy water. He kissed her again and she could taste her own musty scent, mingled with the maleness that seemed to surround him. Positioned on the steps between her legs, he began to ease his hardness inside her, and Elissa was too numb to be frightened, still too pleasantly absorbed to do more than allow him entrance.

“All right?” he asked once he had filled her completely. “This time I didn’t hurt you?”

Elissa couldn’t help smiling. “No, you did not hurt me.”

Adrian’s mouth curved in a slow smile of relief. For the first time she realized that he had been worried about her. He wanted to make this right for her. He wanted her to enjoy it. As he began to move his hips, thrusting slowly, setting up a rhythm, she discovered what she felt went far beyond enjoyment. She was feeling the most exquisite sensations she had ever encountered.

Her head tipped back, came to rest on the cool gray stone. Adrian kissed her, filling her again, sliding out and then driving forward, causing the water to lap around them in warm, gentle waves. The heat inside her began to build, the swirling pleasure she had known before. Her hands came up to his muscled shoulders and she arched her back, taking him deeper still.

He quickened his thrusts, driving into her harder, pounding faster, and still she wanted more. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her legs went around his hips and the tension increased in his powerful body. Still he drove on, so hard and deep she couldn’t stop the pleasure from expanding, from tightening into a fierce, sweet coil, then bursting out of control.

She cried out his name as she reached her peak and her nails raked furrows in his muscular back. Adrian didn’t seem to notice. Several more deep thrusts and his body went rigid. His head fell back and he groaned, his tall frame shuddering with pleasure, then he collapsed against her.

They lay motionless for several long moments, their bodies still entwined, hearts pumping, the water lapping softly against the stones. With a sigh and a last gentle kiss, he pulled himself away.

Bright green eyes held hers, sensual eyes, seductive even in their casual regard. “What happened at the cottage should never have occurred,” he told her. “What we shared this night, my lovely little innocent, that is making love.”

Her body still tingled from the way he had touched her, the intimate things he had done, and color rose into her cheeks. “Yes … I suppose it was.”

A sleek, dark brow arched up. “You suppose? You are telling me you are still in doubt?”

She laughed then, softly, unexpectedly. “You’ve left no doubt, my lord. You have managed to show me very well.”

Adrian smiled. “I shall take that as a compliment, my lady.”

“It was meant as such, my lord.”

He chuckled then, a rumble in his powerful chest. “I suppose we should get out. If we don’t we shall return to the villa looking like a couple of shriveled grapes.”

Elissa sighed. As much as she had dreaded to come, now she hated to leave. “I suppose so.”

“On the other hand”—he pressed a light kiss into the palm of her hand—“there is a sofa in each of the changing rooms. Perhaps I could show you once more before we leave exactly what it is to make love.”

She shouldn’t. It was utter folly to allow him any closer, to chance that her feelings for him might grow. Still, life could be short—her brother’s death proved that—and intrigue swirled around her.

“Perhaps you could,” she said. “Perhaps there is something I have not yet learned.”

Adrian grinned wickedly, bent and lifted her dripping body into his arms, then strode out of the pool splendidly naked. “That is one thing, sweet angel, of which you may be certain.”

It wasn’t until well after midnight that they returned home.

*   *   *

Adrian rode out of Baden the following morning. He left a brief note for Elissa telling her he’d been called away, nothing more. He stifled an urge to write something tender, something personal that spoke of the evening they had shared. Something held him back. The night was too memorably etched in his mind, and he didn’t like the fact that it was. He didn’t like the notion that bedding her had done nothing to decrease his appetite for her, had only made him want her more.

It was a dangerous and unwelcome sensation. He hadn’t forgotten that the girl was a liar and a fraud.

Setting an easy pace into the city, he reached the outskirts of Vienna a little over three hours later and reined Minotaur up on a rise. Majestic baroque buildings paid homage to poetic bell towers, tall pointed spires, and glorious domes. In the distance, he could see the highest landmark in the city, the 390-foot spire of St. Stephen’s Cathedral, and the impressive blue roofs of the Hofburg palace.

His first stop was a building on Kärntnerstrasse, the street that housed the office of Gerhard Mahler, the investigator he had used when he had been in Austria four years ago. The man’s assignment had been easier then: simply track down the identity of and information on a lady he had observed on several occasions at the theater.

Gisela Handrick had subsequently provided quite a pleasant several weeks in his bed.

Seated in a chair in the investigator’s small but tidy office, Adrian watched as Mahler, a small, thin, studious-looking man in his thirties, studied the notes of their conversation.

“If my understanding is correct, Lord Wolvermont, you wish me to unearth whatever information I can manage in regard to the Count and Countess von Langen.”

“Exactly. Count von Langen is supposed to be from the town of Mariazell. Assuming that is true, information about him shouldn’t be difficult to ferret out, though he has been gone from the country for a number of years.”

The slender man looked down at his notes. “Living in England, you said.”

Adrian nodded. “That is correct. Cornwall, as the story goes.”

“Britain is quite some distance away. Information from such a distance will be difficult to unearth.”

“I realize that. I’ll take care of that portion of the inquiry myself. I’ve already posted a letter to London instructing my solicitor to hire an investigator there. If any portion of the girl’s story is true, it shouldn’t be hard to discover the facts.” Still, it might take weeks, or even months. He was counting on finding the answers he needed here in Austria.

“I shall begin right away, my lord.” He smiled from beneath a finger-thin mustache. “As I recall, you are a man who requires immediate action.”

A corner of Adrian’s mouth tipped up. “Exactly so. Thank you, Herr Mahler. I’m certain you’ll do your usual capable job.”

The little man smiled at the praise and Adrian left him to begin his work. From Kärntnerstrasse, he made his way across the city to his meeting with General Ravenscroft. This time he had been summoned to Ravenscroft’s personal quarters, an elegant three-story residence on the edge of the city not far from where his troops were encamped.

A butler showed him into the house and Ravenscroft greeted him at the door leading into the study, a cozy, wood-paneled chamber smelling faintly of lemon oil and cigar smoke. “Colonel Kingsland, do come in.”

“Thank you, General.” Adrian waited while Ravenscroft returned to his seat behind a polished rosewood desk, then sat down in a deep leather chair across from him. He didn’t miss the scowl pulling the man’s thick gray brows into a frown, or the fatigue that appeared in purple smudges beneath his eyes.

“I sent for you, Colonel, because a matter of importance has arisen.”

Adrian eyed him across the width of the desk. “From the look on your face, I assumed this wasn’t a simple briefing.”

“No, I’m afraid it isn’t.” He reached for a crumpled piece of paper lying on the green felt blotter and slid it toward Adrian, who picked it up and began to read.

“‘Ninety thousand troops marching into Bavaria under Archduke Charles. Unknown number under Hiller. Bellegard and his troops converging.’” Adrian looked up from the missive, staring in disbelief. “Good God, is this information correct?”

“I’m afraid so, Colonel.”

Adrian shook his head. “You mentioned before that you thought there might be a leak. Apparently you were correct.”

“Regretfully, that is so, and as you can see by that message, the matter has become extremely urgent.”

“How many people are privy to this level of information?” Adrian asked.

“Unfortunately more than you might think. The emperor, of course, and a number of his top advisors. Several Austrian generals, including the three involved in the diplomacy at Baden: Schnabel, Steigler, and General Oppelt. Our ambassador knows, of course; there are aides and couriers who might be able to find out. If the man were clever enough, he might have gathered the information from a number of separate sources and pulled the facts together.”

Yes, Adrian thought. If the man were clever enough—or the woman.

“The point is,” the general continued, “there is no longer a doubt we have a traitor in our midst. The only problem is discovering who it is.”

Adrian fingered the message, studying the neatly scrolled words penned in German. “What is this mark at the bottom?” A small round circle with an image in the middle. “It looks like some sort of bird.”

“It seems to be an identifying seal of some kind. We have speculated on the type of bird it might be, but no one knows for sure.”

Adrian rubbed his chin, still staring at the letter, not liking the direction of his thoughts. “Where did you get this?”

“It was discovered on a dead man in an alley outside Reiss’s Tavern here in Vienna. The man was not in the military. He had no family or relatives that we have been able to locate. The truth is, we haven’t a clue as to where this message might have originated and not a single notion where to look for who might have sent it.”

But perhaps Adrian did. He stared at the message and his stomach tightened. Surely the little fool wasn’t really involved in spying. But remembering the night he had caught her coming out of the ambassador’s room, he couldn’t be sure.

The general stood up and so did Adrian. “I want you to keep your eyes and ears open, Colonel. I realize you won’t be returning to Baden for a couple of days, but perhaps once you are there, you’ll be able to ask a few questions, see what you might turn up. Remember to be discreet. This war is getting closer every day, and with a spy about, the element of danger has just increased tenfold.”

“I’ll do my best, General Ravenscroft.” With a sharp salute, he started toward the door.

“And Colonel Kingsland—”

Adrian turned. “Yes, General?”

“One man is dead already. Do not underestimate the threat this man poses.”

Adrian’s jaw went tight. “I assure you I won’t.” Tucking his hat beneath his arm, Adrian left the study. Outside the house, a groom led Minotaur from the stable at the rear, and Adrian swung up on the stallion’s back.

The general’s words churned through his mind: There is no doubt we have a traitor in our midst. The urge to leave for Baden was strong, but he wouldn’t be returning this night or the next. He needed to check in with his regiment, see that the tasks he’d assigned were completed, and assure himself that his men were faring well. Once he had done so, he could begin his latest task—and hope to bloody hell Elissa was not involved.

*   *   *

Elissa accepted the note Sophie handed over, the second from a gentleman she had received in the last two days. Unlike the first cool, unfeeling missive from Adrian informing her of his absence from Baden for the next several days, this one from General Steigler begged her forgiveness for his treatment of her at the picnic and apologized for his overzealous reaction to her innocent questions.

He inquired after her health, having just learned of the accident she had suffered that day, and mentioned his escort to the upcoming ball. He also asked that she join him for supper that evening at seven o’clock.

As she read the note, Elissa felt a pang of disappointment that the message was not from Adrian, and a measure of relief that Steigler’s anger had faded. She would be spending time in his company once more, working to gain his trust, and she wouldn’t make the mistake of angering him again.

Part of her was indeed relieved. Another, larger part dreaded the evening ahead. It was obvious the general was renewing his campaign to bed her, and she knew how determined he was to succeed. Still, with the injury she had suffered in the fall so freshly healed, she might yet be safe from his advances.

The hours ticked past and Elissa mentally prepared herself. The evening began rather well, considering how little she wanted to be there, an intimate supper given by the wife of a major named Holdorf in honor of the major’s birthday. It was held at a small but well-appointed residence at the edge of town, a party of twelve including their host and hostess.

Dinner was superb: a thick bean soup; a boiled beef dish called Tafelspitz; fresh vegetables; potatoes sautéed with onions; Knödel, a bread dumpling; and a lovely raspberry torte for dessert. Throughout the meal, Elissa made pleasant conversation with Frau Holdorf, a plump, loquacious woman in her thirties, all the while avoiding the suggestive, heavy-lidded glances cast her way by General Steigler.

“Your companion is quite lovely,” she overheard Frau Holdorf say as the company rose from the table at the end of the meal.

“Yes…” her husband agreed, with a brief, speculative glance in Elissa’s direction. “I approve your taste, General Steigler.”

Though Elissa had immediately warmed to Frau Holdorf, there was something about the major, a thin, slightly effeminate blond man, that Elissa did not like. She watched the way his eyes slid over the swell of her breast, the faint edge of a smile that seemed to settle on his lips as he watched her with the general.

On the surface, the major was mildly attractive, yet there was something about him … something oddly calculating that reminded her of Steigler. Perhaps it was the reason they were friends.

The evening passed without incident. Talk of war was kept to a minimum, much to Elissa’s chagrin, and much of the conversation revolved around the empress’s upcoming ball. Finally it was time to leave, and thinking of the moments ahead, Elissa’s stomach knotted. She desperately needed to be alone with Steigler, yet with equal desperation she dreaded what might happen.

They made their farewells and Steigler helped her into his shiny black calèche. “The hour is still early,” he said, seating himself beside her on the seat. “There is a place I have use of where we might be private, perhaps enjoy a glass of brandy before I return you home.” His eyes said he meant to enjoy more than brandy, and Elissa’s stomach did a heavy roll.

She told herself to say yes. She needed to talk to him, to win his confidence and trust. Instead she found herself smiling but faintly shaking her head.

“There is nothing I should enjoy more, General Steigler. Unfortunately, the fall I took has left me with a few ill effects and my head has begun to throb unbearably.” She reached over and laced her fingers through his, felt the long, slender bones. “When we are finally alone, I want everything to be perfect. Can you understand that, General?”

He frowned, his eyes going dark and unreadable. “I grow tired of waiting, Elissa. Should I discover you are playing some sort of game, I promise you will not enjoy the consequences.”

The rattle of iron wheels over rough cobblestones filled the silence in the carriage. Elissa’s heart thundered. Steigler was not the sort to encourage—God only knew the consequences. And yet she had no choice. Hoping he wouldn’t see the worry in her eyes, she squeezed his hand and smiled up at him from beneath her lashes.

“I’m worth waiting for, General, I promise you.”

He relaxed at that, raised her fingers to his lips. She noticed they felt dry and a little bit chafed, and a thread of revulsion slipped through her.

“I am usually a far more patient man,” he said, a faint smile curling his lips. “However, my dear, where you are concerned, I find my patience is wearing thin. But you are right. I wouldn’t want you feeling unwell.”

Elissa settled back against the plush red velvet seat, angry with herself for her lack of courage, yet wildly relieved to escape him again. Relieved, that was, until she felt the general’s hand at her waist, pulling her against him, felt his dry lips crushing down upon hers in a kiss. His hands moved over her breasts and through the thin silk fabric, he squeezed each one, testing the shape and size, lightly abrading her nipple.

Nausea rolled through her. Dear God, could she really allow this man to touch her as Adrian had done? Put his hands and mouth on her in the intimate way that Adrian had?

He broke off the kiss as the carriage rolled up in front of Blauenhaus. “I believe you are right, my dear. The wait appears to be well worth it.”

Elissa said nothing, just let him help her down to the street and walk her to the door.

He bowed with great formality over her hand. “Good night, Lady von Langen. I look forward to escorting you to the ball.” He smiled thinly. “I trust by then you’ll be feeling far better.”

Elissa started to tremble. “Y-yes … I’m certain I will be.” Making her way inside the house, she hurried upstairs to her room. All the way there, her stomach roiled threateningly. Dear God, how could she let him touch her when every time he did, she thought she might throw up?

She closed the door and leaned against it, grateful for its solid support. Sophie had laid a fire in the hearth so thankfully the room was warm. Elissa crossed the bedchamber on unsteady legs and stood in front of the flames, rubbing her arms against the chill that had crept into her body.

Images of Steigler rose up, his thin, harsh features, his dry, chapped lips, the moisture in his palms when he had touched her. Was he really a traitor—the man responsible for the death of her brother? There was no proof as yet, but she believed him capable of it. She could sense his ruthlessness, his casual disregard for the people around him. For enough money, would he use his ruthless nature to further his own ends?

Images of Karl clashed with those of Steigler. Karl tall and fair, so brave and handsome. A memory arose of them as children, of Karl laughing as she trailed along behind him in her mother’s blue silk gown. Knowing it was he who would get the thrashing if they were caught, Karl had still joined in the fun, donning Papa’s best tailcoat and grinning at the sight they made in the tall cheval glass mirror.

She remembered him older, more serious. Karl was twenty-two, Elissa just eighteen when he came to her seeking advice about a girl named Allison Bainbridge, the daughter of a squire from a neighboring village. He had thought of proposing, since the squire seemed in favor of Allison’s marriage to the von Langen heir, and he believed the girl would say yes. She was young and lovely and he thought that she would make a good wife. Elissa had simply asked him if he loved her.

Karl looked thoughtful, then he shook his head. He bent and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Lis. I guess I have my answer.” He joined the army the following week.

Now Karl was dead and no one seemed to care. Nothing had been done about his murder, and his urgent last request had yet to be fulfilled. She had to find the man they called the Falcon—for Karl and for the countries they both loved. She knew little of catching a spy, but surely she could find a way.

Elissa began to. pace in front of the fire. Steigler was staying at the emperor’s villa. Adrian was still in Vienna, and even if he weren’t, from the tone of his coldhearted message, there was every chance, now that he’d had what he wanted, his interest in her had waned.

The thought made something squeeze inside her. Elissa forced herself to ignore it. Whatever happened between them, she had no one to blame but herself.

Her thoughts returned to Steigler and the task she had set for herself. The empress’s ball was being held at the villa. If she could get into the general’s suite of rooms, surely she could find some scrap of evidence that would connect him to the Falcon. Once she had it, she could take it, along with Karl’s letter, to someone in authority. She could save herself from Steigler and discharge her obligation to her brother without having to compromise her honor.

The fire cracked and popped and the heat felt good against her skin. Elissa released a shaky breath and some of the tension drained from her body. Perhaps her scheme would work. There was no way to know until she tried, but at least for the present, she had a plan.

She crossed to the bellpull and rang for her maid, promising herself she would think no more of Steigler. It was a promise she found easy to keep. As the hours slid past, it wasn’t the general, but memories of Adrian Kingsland and his powerful, hard-muscled body that tormented her restless sleep.