Shana Galen by True Spies Page A

gasped, and he caught the sound with his mouth. He remembered her lips. That much he had not forgotten. They were so soft and inviting, and he found himself succumbing to the pleasure of kissing her.
    Now, who was seducing whom?
    He broke the kiss and trailed his lips along her cheek until he reached her earlobe. He nuzzled the silky curl she’d tucked behind her ear and breathed, “Don’t make any plans for this evening. I want your”—he kissed the tender flesh of her ear—“undivided attention.”
    “Winn—”
    “And you might want to find somewhere for the girls to play this evening. They might wonder when they hear you crying out in pleasure.”
    She inhaled sharply as his tongue teased her skin, and then he brushed his hands up her sides and traced his thumbs over her nipples. Her body was trembling, and he knew he was going to have trouble allowing her to walk away. He wanted her. Badly. He kissed her again, and this time her mouth met his eagerly. Winn might have smiled at his victory if it wasn’t also a defeat. His own desire had built far more than he liked, and now he must stand back and watch while she went to meet another man. Slowly, while she still sought him, he pulled back.
    Her face was flushed and her eyes as dark as the midnight sky. Her fichu did little to constrain the straining of her breasts as she struggled to catch her breath. Winn clenched his hands to keep from ripping that flimsy material away and feasting on her soft skin.
    “You should go,” he said, his voice edged with steel. “While I am still amenable to your departure.”
    “Yes.” She nodded and looked this way and that as though confused as to where she was going.
    Winn gestured to the door. “That way, madam.”
    “Of course.” She stumbled past him, hurrying toward the door. Her hair was not quite so perfectly coiffed anymore. And damn him if he didn’t find her more alluring with it slightly mussed. She reached the handle and opened the door, but before she could step outside, he said, “Ellie.”
    She stopped, her posture as rigid as that of a man who has just been shot.
    “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Six
    Ellie . He had called her Ellie . Elinor could not say the last time he had used the sobriquet with her. Years, she thought. Years and years.
    She sat in the Keating town coach and sped toward Hyde Park. There were few other conveyances about this morning. It was early and chilly, and she imagined the members of the ton much preferred their warm beds to the biting wind. This morning she could also see the appeal of a warm bed, a warm, naked man sharing it with her.
    She shook her head. Damn Winn! Why did he have to kiss her this morning? Why did he have to whisper in her ear and make her blood thrum in her veins today? All of these years she had wanted him, waited for him, hoped he would notice her, desire her, seduce her. And now, today, when she had finally given up, he sought her out. Did he know or suspect? She did not see how he could, unless he’d found the letters she’d kept in her dresser…
    But he was not home enough to have even spent any time in her bedchamber, much less searched her dresser. And if he had been in her bedchamber, Bridget would have told her. The household servants were loyal to her. They’d realized long ago Winn was not the one who ensured their salaries were paid. So how did he know? But if he knew about Mr. Trollope, wouldn’t he have been angry? He would not have kissed her. Which meant this must be an incredible coincidence, and she was allowing her imagination to run wild because she felt guilty for betraying Winn.
    Not that she’d betrayed him. Yet. She was only going to meet Trollope. That was all. She hadn’t even allowed him to kiss her. She’d accepted his love letters, that was true enough, but she hadn’t responded in kind. She’d been cautious, despite the fact that Rafe Trollope was wild and exciting. She was not certain this was what she wanted. She was