Free Kiss From a Rogue by Shirley Karr Page A

on her wrist. No reason his warm lips against her bare skin should send a tingle up her arm that spread down to her toes.
    He let go slowly, his fingers trailing across her hand. “Now we’re ready.” He held out his arm, his eyes betraying his satisfaction, reveling in the reaction he’d provoked in her. “Shall we?”
    Sylvia raised her chin. He wouldn’t have that effect on her again. She rested her hand in the crook of his arm, and led the way out the door and into the black night. Her men followed at their heels, while Galen and Gerald called out well wishes.
    Tony tried to concentrate on the feel of Lady Montgomery’s hand resting on his forearm, rather than the apprehension winding through his gut. What had he involved himself in? He hadn’t felt this mix of dread and excitement since he’d followed Nick into a midnight prank against the headmaster. If this went wrong, there would be far worse consequences than a caning and stern lecture.
    As they stood at the top of the cliff, buffeted by the wind, he swiped the bandage from his head and stuffed it in a pocket. With his free hand, he checked that he was no longer bleeding. His fingers encountered something gritty, coarser than dried blood. Sylvia’s herbal concoction? Couldn’t tell in the dark, but the scent was pleasant.
    Soon, signal lights were exchanged, and he was standing on the beach with Sylvia, her seven watchdogs, and six more men who’d come from the inn. Small boats appeared out of the inky blackness and slid with a hiss and a rasp onto the fine pebble beach. Sailors spilled out of the boats and mingled with Lady Montgomery’s men, who formed lines and began passing small casks from the beach, disappearing into the darkness by the base of the cliff. Much as he was curious about the details of the operation, it wasn’t worth the risk to ask. The less he knew, the more likely her men were to let him go as agreed.
    One man separated from the group and came toward them, taking off his feathered tricorne hat and sweeping into a bow.
    Assailed by the stench of sweat, Tony took a step backward, then recovered his lapse. Through the thickness of his borrowed shirt and coat, Sylvia’s fingers dug into his arm. He gave her hand a reassuring pat. When he saw the flare of annoyance in the stranger’s eyes, he stroked her hand with a proprietary air.
    “Good evening, Lady Montgomery.” The stranger reached for her free hand, but she evaded contact by locking her fingers together over Tony’s arm.
    “Good evening, Captain Ruford, but I’m Mrs. Sinclair now.”
    “Mrs…. What?”
    “You’re interrupting our honeymoon, so we’d like to get on with the business at hand,” Tony said.
    “Married? When? You said nothing last time we met.”
    Tony wasn’t sure if the captain was angry or just shocked.
    “There are a great many things I have never discussed with you, Captain.”
    The captain’s eyes narrowed. “How long have you known one another?”
    Tony opened his mouth to speak, but the lady beat him to it.
    “We met at an assembly in Weymouth. Two years ago.”
    “I fell in love at first sight,” Tony jumped in. “But alas, the lady was already taken. I thought I would perish of unrequited love.” He felt Sylvia’s gaze on him. Remembering the look on his brother’s face whenever Ben spoke of or glanced at his wife, Tony tried to effect the same besotted expression as he looked upon Sylvia now.
    With only the pitiful light of a lantern at their feet, he felt more than saw her breathing hitch, her expression change. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer to his side. Her curves fit against him perfectly, just as he’d known they would.
    The captain turned his head to spit out a stream of tobacco. “Montgomery’s been dead thirteen months. What kept you?”
    “And an agonizing thirteen months it has been. I wanted to wait the appropriate interval. I want no one to cast aspersions on my lovely Sylvia.” Tony