A Private Duel with Agent Gunn (The Gentlemen of Scotland Yard) Read Online Free

were murdered in— asesinado en sangre fría, sangre fría, monstruo —by you and those bloody French!”
    “I do not deny we used gunfire . . .” He leaned an elbow on the door behind her and rubbed his temple. “But they were blown up by their own explosives.”
    “They were surrounded by British and the French agents. You knew there was dynamite in that farmhouse. And still the bullets flew.” Her fists pummeled his chest.
    “Slow down, Cate. Lento, retraso, por favor .” Firmly but gently, he grasped both of her hands and held them to her sides. Crushed between her brutish intruder and the door, she used the most insulting words she could think of. “Hijo del perro de una puta.”
    His eyes crinkled. “I’d nearly forgotten about that Catalan temper of yours.”
    A heavy pounding rattled the wood panel under her back. “I say, what goes on there? Miss de Dovia, are you all right?”
    He pressed against her. “Sorry to see me, Cate? Worried I might interfere with your duties outside of the corps de ballet?”
    She stopped writhing and blinked. “What nonsense you’re talking—” She exhaled. “Please leave me alone, Hugh.”
    “Actually, Hugh Curzon is a name I use on the Continent—”
    She angled her toe shoe and kicked him in the shin. “Ouch,” he yowled.
    Cate tossed her head back. “Pointe slippers can torture more than my toes, señor .” She turned the knob. He slammed the door shut and threw the latch. She thought her heart might find a way to leap from her chest. He pushed her back against the door, and placed a hand on each shoulder.
    “What do you want?” She swallowed, looking up at him.
    “One kiss.” His demand knocked the breath from her. She pushed away, but the more she wiggled, the more they rubbed against each other.
    She had forgotten, no, she had pushed him out of her mind—what a wild and woolly creature! His hair a leonine mass of thick brown waves, his body hard and unyielding. Her gaze fell to his mouth, possibly his most intriguing feature. Well-defined lips that were full and sensuous, and when they touched hers . . .
    His mouth closed in, causing a flutter of anticipation. In fact, she very much wanted his kiss. She tilted her head to give him access, but he did not take her greedily. He brushed gently, capturing her mouth in a grazing caress of soft, sensuous bites—then he licked. She shivered in his arms. Glorioso.
    “I give you pleasure, señorita ?”
    She opened her eyes. “Cerdo asqueroso.”
    His languid gaze traced over her features. The corners of his mouth turned up a hint of smile. “Disgusting pig . . .” The words buffeted against her cheek. “Rather enchanting in Spanish.” He remained close, nuzzling, taunting, until her lips opened again for him.
    This time he slid his tongue into her mouth and boldly took what he wanted. Cate closed her eyes and let him do as he pleased. In no time, he was groaning and kissing hertenderly, passionately, and, God help her, she returned his ardor with a surprising amount of intensity. Her tongue tangled with his in a thrilling chase that was . . . muy delicioso .
    The tingle turned into a surge of desire that coursed through her body. Her knees would have buckled if he hadn’t kept her pressed firmly to the door. Slowly, he released her and fell back an inch or two. Glassy-eyed, they shared each other’s breath, neither able to find words.
    “Madre de Dios.” Blindly, Cate flailed about and threw the latch. To his credit, he stepped back and she opened the door. He exited the dressing room quietly—this man whose tongue had just ravaged her mouth in the most sinful way possible.
    She eyed him cautiously. “By what name do you call yourself in London?”
    It appeared their brief argument had captivated everyone in the salon. Cecil blurted out her answer. “Phineas Gunn?”
    Her dressing room intruder approached her openmouthed dinner date. “Rather daring of you to carry on with a ballet