Page 38 of Irresistible
Jess’s eyes opened, and she stared up at the bed hangings. Then she realized her hand was between her legs, and her body pulsed with need. Oh God, what was she doing?
She’d been dreaming. She realized that now. Turning her head sharply toward Dougal’s side of the bed, she held her breath. What had he heard or seen? Had she said his name aloud? Humiliation raced over her, changing the kind of heat in her body from sensual to humiliating.
Was he not there? She couldn’t make out his shape, but there was barely any light in the room—just whatever the dying coals in the hearth provided. After blinking several times, she looked again. His side of the bed was empty.
Jess snatched her hand away from her sex, despite the fact that she hadn’t found her climax. She couldn’t bother with that now. Dougal was likely in the dressing chamber.
She sat up and perused his side of the bed. The coverlet was folded back, and his dressing gown was gone.
Frowning, she slid out of the bed and grabbed her dressing gown, throwing it around herself before going to the dressing chamber door. It was ajar, and there was no light coming from inside. Still, she looked. He wasn’t there either.
Agitation curled in her gut, driving her to pace to the windows, where she pulled back the edge of the curtain and looked toward the beach. Did she think he’d gone outside?
She moved away from the window and went to his side of the bed, noting that his slippers were also missing. Her gaze strayed to the bedside table. Looking toward the door, she carefully eased the drawer open.
Why am I trying to be quiet? And why would I care if Dougal came in and found me looking to see if his gun is also missing? He’s the one who left without saying anything.
Blowing out a breath, she pulled the drawer all the way open. There was no pistol. Where the devil had he gone with a gun?
Jess closed the drawer. Should she go look for him? Had something happened?
Just then, the door opened, startling her. Her body flinched, and she walked around the bed as Dougal stepped inside and closed the door.
“You’re awake,” he said, his gaze moving over her before jerking back to her face in surprise.
“As are you. Where did you go?”
“I heard a noise in the gallery, so I went to check. It was Mrs. Farr. She’d dropped a tray. It was quite fortuitous because as I helped her tidy the mess, our conversation led to her disclosure that she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d remain in the Chesmores’ employ. I asked why, and she said she wasn’t sure she suited them. I pressed further, and she revealed what you had already astutely determined, that they make her uncomfortable. I asked her some questions that would encourage her to reveal more about herself and found her very credible. I decided in that moment to tell her we are from the Foreign Office.”
“How could you be sure she is trustworthy?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been doing this long enough to get a sense of when someone is lying or being evasive and when they are telling their truth. I could see her discomfort in addition to hearing her say it. It did not appear artificial to me.”
Jess was disappointed she hadn’t been there. She wanted to learn all she could, and that included how and when to reveal yourself to someone whose help you wanted. “What was her reaction?”
“She was quite surprised, as you can imagine. Mostly, she was relieved. She is going to look for the coded letter and deliver it to us. The one she found that prompted her to write to the Foreign Office was in Mrs. Chesmore’s bedside dresser.” His gaze met hers. “What awakened you?”
“A noise, like you,” she fibbed. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him the truth. “I was exceedingly concerned when I realized you weren’t here. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I didn’t think it was necessary. It was just a noise.”
Jess couldn’t ignore the niggling sensation at the back of her mind that he wasn’t telling her something. Was that because of her bias, which she owed to the Foreign Office for asking her to investigate him? Or was she discomfited because she wasn’t tellinghimsomething? Namely, the fact that she’d been about to pleasure herself while thinking of him.
She refused to think it was the latter. Revealing her growing—she had to accede that’s where things seemed to be—desire for him had nothing to do with their mission. Whatever he might be keeping from her did. It wasn’t as if he was harboring the same passionate thoughts toward her. He was far too professional for that.
“We should get back to bed.” Dougal moved toward her, and for the briefest moment, she wondered if he was going to embrace her.
He is not, you flibbertigibbet! He simply wants to get to his side of the bloody bed.
She turned sideways, so he could pass her more easily, and his arm grazed her breast. He moved quickly past. Did he know where he’d touched?
The heat and need that had faded since she’d awakened came rushing back, reminding Jess that she hadn’t ever found her release. Turning her back to him, she scowled briefly as she returned to her side of the bed.
“Next time, I’d like if you could wake me,” she said as she climbed into the bed and drew the bedclothes up to her chin. “It was rather unsettling to find you—and your pistol—gone.”
“I’m sorry to have concerned you. I’m not used to informing anyone of my activities, but I’ll do better.”
It was a convenient excuse. He could have gotten up to do any number of things. What if he was working with the Chesmores? What if he hadn’t spoken to Mrs. Farr at all? What if she was part of this?
