Free Lord and Lady Spy by Shana Galen

him. King and country demanded she keep her identity secret, even from those closest to her.
    Her own heart demanded it as well. She couldn’t afford to forget Henry. Her poor brother had paid the price for his imprudence. Even now, years after his murder, a lump rose in her throat when she thought of him. She’d needed his advice countless times over the years, needed his friendship. Instead, she’d struggled through the darkest times alone.
    She looked at Adrian. Even in their most intimate moments, her secrets and walls kept her isolated from him. But keeping Adrian at a distance during their infrequent episodes of lovemaking had been a struggle that hadn’t diminished even after years of marriage.
    And now, now she stood here, after a night when one of her deepest secrets had been laid bare to him, and tried to think why she should keep fighting him.
    His touch was light and feathery—playful—but she knew from experience it could also be intense and demanding. She knew from experience she liked it intense and demanding.
    His fingers breezed along her neck, caressing her chin and moving down her collarbone. She couldn’t stop her eyelids from fluttering closed. Her head wanted to loll back, to find respite against his broad shoulder, but she resisted the impulse.
    She knew she should also tell him to stop touching her, to stop the inevitable path of his fingers down her bodice, but her lips were paralyzed. Her body was paralyzed by his fingertips—those tender, teasing, slightly roughened fingertips.
    She shuddered.
    “Do you want this?” His voice rasped in her ear like a cat’s tongue against silky fur. “Do you want me?”
    She wanted to say no, to deny all she was feeling, but her body seemed disconnected from her mind. No, that wasn’t quite true. Her flesh was blatantly disregarding her brain’s better judgment.
    Adrian’s fingers dipped into her bodice to brush lightly over the swells of her breasts. She felt her flesh heat in response, and her legs wobbled.
    “Tell me you want me, Sophia.”
    Her name. It sounded like a foreign language on his tongue. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard him use it in that seductive tone.
    “Tell me,” he whispered, his hand cupping her breast. His touch was becoming more persuasive, more compelling. She knew she wouldn’t be able to resist much longer.
    “I-I can’t,” she said, voice strained and urgent. Voice mirroring what her body was experiencing.
    “Three words,” he said. His breath tickled her neck, sending new shivers of pleasure rippling through her. “Three words, and you can have what you want.”
    Before she could concede or protest, the hand that had been on her back went to work. He loosened several fastenings at the back of her dress so it slipped down her shoulders. The bodice gaped, and he pushed it down. The room was dark, lit only by moonlight and the banked fire, and still the thin material of her chemise and stays seemed scant protection against the power of his gaze.
    She couldn’t even see him, and yet she could feel his eyes on her. She heard his soft intake of breath as he freed one breast from the confines of her stays. His finger brushed over her nipple, and Sophia couldn’t suppress a tiny moan.
    That was all it took. Whatever control Adrian had been exercising seemed to shatter. Roughly, he spun her around in his arms. She barely had time to find her balance before his lips were on hers. His tongue invaded her mouth while his hands plundered her body.
    And she loved it. She reveled in it.
    She wanted more.
    His hands had freed both her breasts now, and her nipples were so hard they throbbed. She felt his thumb brush over one, and she gasped into his mouth. His response was to pull her close, cradling his erection against her belly.
    He was hard. Rock hard, and he wanted her to know.
    She moved her hips, giving him the response he wanted. His reaction was a low growl. He pulled away, and when he looked down at