Shana Galen by True Spies Page B

not wild and exciting, though at the moment, with her heart pounding and her lips still warm from Winn’s kisses, she felt rather reckless. She took a deep breath and tried to shut out the image of Winn pulling her into his arms. She tried to forget the feel of him pressed against her. He was so tall and so strong. She could barely wrap her arms around the breadth of his shoulders. And yet, for such a large man, he was never clumsy, never inelegant. Indeed, today he had moved with all of the sleekness of a lion as he caught her about the waist and pulled her against him.
    Against his chest. His hard chest. His hard, muscled chest.
    She licked her lips and closed her eyes. This was not helping matters. She should be thinking of Trollope, with his sun-touched golden hair and his emerald-green eyes. Drat! That was Winn who had the green eyes. Trollope had… she could not remember the color of Trollope’s eyes.
    She glanced out the window and noted Hyde Park was just ahead. Elinor sat up straighter. She would take note of Mr. Trollope’s eyes this morning. She would memorize their color, and she would kiss him too. That would help her to forget Winn’s persuasive mouth. By the time she returned home, her thoughts would be centered on Mr. Trollope and the exciting new adventure she was about to embark upon.
    She frowned, a moment of panic infusing her. There was one detail about her relationship with Trollope she had not mentioned to Mary. She’d told him of her interest in his work, and he’d offered to allow her to help him with his next mission. She was excited at the prospect of seeing mention of her work—not her name, of course—in The Times at some point in the future. How thrilling it would be to know she had done something more important than plan a ball or scrub a child’s face clean. And perhaps when she and Trollope were working together on their dangerous mission, they would fall in love. Trollope told her he was half in love with her already, and she knew his motives were anything but pure. Still, at least there was one man whose interest she had captured.
    The carriage slowed and stopped, and Elinor peered out of the window. The park was deserted at this hour. She did not even see Trollope. But he had told her he would keep out of sight until she was away from her driver. They did not want any witnesses to their meeting. Mr. Trollope worried about foreign agents and spies, and even though Elinor had assured him her driver was not a foreign spy, Mr. Trollope did not wish to take chances.
    A groom opened her door and handed her down.
    “I prefer to walk alone this morning, Jacob.”
    The groom’s eyes widened. “B-but my lady,” he finally managed. “I’ll be sacked for certain.”
    “The park is empty. No one will ever know, and I shall be perfectly fine. I will stay within sight of the carriage.”
    “My lady, please.”
    “Another word, and I shall sack you.”
    Jacob closed his mouth abruptly, and she set off. She tried to walk for a while before looking over her shoulder to see if Jacob was watching her. Like a good servant, he was. She waved at him and meandered toward some trees. Feeling like an idiot, she pretended to spot something fascinating and ducked into the small copse. The ground beneath her feet was spongy and soft, and now that she was out of the sun, she felt the chill. She shivered and peered around the woodsy enclosure. “Mr. Trollope?” she hissed. “Ah… Rafe?” She had not used his Christian name before, but what was the use in holding on to societal conventions at this point? She was breaking them simply by being here. “Rafe!”
    Elinor sighed. It seemed she was destined to wait for men who deigned never to make an appearance. She turned, prepared to return to Jacob, who was probably apoplectic at her disappearance, and then gasped. Mr. Trollope was standing behind her, smiling.
    He made a deep bow, sweeping his hat in an arc before him. “My lady.”
    Elinor put a