Irresistible Read Online Free

when it suited him. He certainly knew that Hugh would have balked at doing violence to a woman, war or no war.
    But, having acted in the teeth of the cosmos's repeated attempts to dissuade him, here he was, saddled with the mission. Now, in the interests of his country's security, to say nothing of his own, he had no choice. Hildebrand would have known that, too.
    Damn Hildebrand. And Boney. And all the bloody Frogs. And the woman before him, unconscious and curled childlike into a ball in the bottom of the gig that was even now taking them back to the ship, where his job would be to relieve her of the incriminating letters she had stolen, discover what had prompted her to steal them and other details surrounding the crime, and then, when he knew enough to plug the leak at both ends, dispose of her like so much garbage.
    Hugh hadn't realized that he was cursing aloud until James, seated tailor-style on the woman's other side as he shuttered the lantern he had just used to signal that all was well to the woman's erstwhile companions, met his gaze and nodded agreement.
    "Aye, and damn this bloody weather, too. We're like to be frozen through before we get back to the ship— if we get back to the ship, that is."
    This dark afterthought was in apparent reference to the swelling waves that pitched the longboat up and down. Spray showered them like rain; the bottom of the craft was awash.
    "We'll not be lettin' ye drown, Colonel, don't fash yerself about that." The nearest of the men working the oars addressed this remark to Hugh, shouting to be heard over the roar of the sea.
    The fact that the sailor knew his military rank did not really surprise him. In another ringing endorsement of War Office security, all aboard the Nadine seemed to know that he was a British intelligence officer on a very important mission, as had been made clear to him from the moment he had set foot on the ship. Fortunately, the French vessel that had been scheduled to make this pickup had, thanks no doubt to the good offices of Hildebrand, not yet put in an appearance at the rendezvous point, and the escort that had accompanied Miss Towbridge to her destiny was now well out of earshot, which made discretion a little less imperative than it otherwise would have been. Still, he had lived in the shadows for so long that the fact that the sailors, seasoned smugglers all, seemed to a man cheerily cognizant of every detail of his mission made the hair rise on the back of his neck.
    "Blimey!" James said as the little boat slid down the back of a wave into a trough as deep as a canyon.
    With the plunge, Hugh's thoughts were diverted to concerns of a more immediate nature. Glancing up, he saw the ship that was their destination rearing high above them like a spirited horse. Seconds later, the longboat shot up the back of another rolling wave. The sea was worsening, no doubt about that. He was glad that they would be back aboard the Nadine before the storm he feared was in the offing struck in earnest.
    "Mmm."
    With his hand on the woman's head, he felt rather than heard the soft sound she made. Glancing down, he watched her stir as more icy water sloshed over the side of the boat, soaking her anew. She was already lying in an inches-deep puddle. Hugh knew just how cold and deep it was, because he was sitting in it himself, cross-legged, one hand exploring her scalp to determine the extent of her injury, while with the other he held on to the side of the boat for dear life.
    "Is she dead then?" James asked without noticeable regret, apparently having just then noticed Hugh's digital exploration of their prisoner's skull.
    It was James who had clouted her over the head with his pistol when Hugh had walked up behind her on the beach.
    "Not dead." If Hugh's tone was wry, James appeared not to notice.
    The woman's hair beneath Hugh's fingers was wet, cold, and fine textured. It had fallen from its pins to straggle over her face like long tangles of silk thread, and in