Free A Code of Love (The Code Breakers 1) by Jacki Delecki Page B

intimate with the comte, a fellow agent in the service of the prime minister. She was to monitor Lucien’s activities. There were suspicions about where Lucien’s allegiances lay.
    The irony wasn’t lost on her, since she also was a double agent, turned by Cord. All the twists of her double life had gotten convoluted. She believed Cord saw past their short but passionate affair in France to know that sex wouldn’t make her forget her loyalty to Talleyrand, who had saved her from the guillotine. But then men didn’t believe women had the ability to separate sex from business.
    “Do you not feel like playing today, my little l’oiseau ?” His finger snaked under her breast.
    In the beginning, she had found her mission of seducing the comte interesting, but now it was work.
    “Or do I suspect correctly that this show of all your plumage is not for my benefit but for Rathbourne?”
    Isabelle forced her breathing to slow. Maybe she wasn’t as bored with her assignment as she believed.
    “Lucien, mon cheri . I always dress to please you. You’ve remarked before that this gown pleases you.”
    “It does please me.” His eyes raked her breasts. “However, I’m not sure I want to share my prize with that English prig.”
    He straightened and moved to the window, his cane tapping a staccato beat. He appeared to be contemplating the activity on the street below.
    Isabelle prepared herself for the predictable jealous outburst. She was surprised when he continued in a mild tone of voice.
    “I’ll not detain you. You expect no difficulty today in dealing with Rathbourne?”
    “Lucien, darling, you can have the greatest confidence in my ability to handle Lord Rathbourne.” She seductively stretched on the chaise to allow Lucien the opportunity to guess how she intended to handle Cord.
    Lucien’s breathing became audible. He exhaled slowly. “Isabelle, my tigress, I regret there is not time for you to practice your skills on me before the arrival of Rathbourne.”
    He moved away from the window. He bent, taking her hand to his lips. Instead of an expected polite kiss, he slowly licked her fingers with his tongue.
    “Au revoir, ma sorciere, until tonight.”
    * * *
    “Lord Rathbourne, milady.” Bolton announced Isabelle’s next visitor in his deep bass voice. She had always known that Bolton was hired by English intelligence to report her activities, but her butler’s punctilious announcement made it clear where his loyalties lay.
    “Please show him in, Bolton.”
    “Yes, milady.”
    She positioned herself as a magnificent tableau. She wanted Cord to come to her. Her heart throbbed in excitement, the more dangerous the game, the more gratifying the spoils. She needed the missing codebook. Distraction and possible leads to the whereabouts of the codebook were tonight’s goal. But Cord’s love-making was definitely a pleasurable prize.
    Cord’s wavy black hair was pushed back in disarray, as if he had brushed his hands through his hair when he arrived. With his finely-chiseled features and well-formed body, Cord would make her work for France less arduous.
    “Good day, Isabelle.” Cord’s stance was rigid, his shoulders tightly pulled back.
    He was in control. The game would be easy, since it was a short path from anger to passion.
    “Cordelier, mon cheri , are you in a snit this afternoon? Come, sit here, and let me help you relax.” Using her sultry voice, she writhed on the settee, moving her hips sinuously across the cushions.
    His cheeks flushed; she heard him take in a breath. The high and mighty Cordelier Beaumont was going to be an easy English whale to reel in. He cleared his throat and paused as if he could control the tension building in the room by keeping his distance.
    “Please, Cordelier, come sit.” Emphasizing the French pronunciation of Cordelier, she beckoned to him, like a siren from the mythical Greek Seas, swathed in her azure blue dress.
    He cleared his throat again as if struggling