He swiftly pulled Sabine to him and slammed his mouth onto hers. Her breath caught in surprise, but she kissed him back. Fervently, passionately. She snaked her hands up his neck, and her fingers slid into his hair, pulling him down to her. Harder, firmer. She wanted him.
Again the woman outside moaned louder and louder, this time releasing a litany of curses as the bed groaned in rhythm with their thrusting. Max reached into Sabine’s bodice and found her nipples already hardened for him. She moaned into his mouth. He pushed the dress down as far as he could and freed her breasts. Slowly he laved kisses down her throat to her collarbone and finally onto her breast, where he suckled her nipple hard in his mouth.
He slipped his free hand up under her skirts, feeling along her long, shapely leg until he found the slit in her drawers. She was slick with desire for him, the surrounding fabric saturated with her need. He nearly went mad with want. She sucked in her breath sharply as his finger entered her. She bucked against him as he slid his finger in and out. With his other hand, he unfastened his own pants and freed himself.
In one swift movement, he bunched her skirts up, then pressed himself into her. She wrapped her legs around him and her fingernails bit into his back through his jacket and shirt. She was up against the wall, wrapped tightly around him. And he took her with no mercy.
There was no control, no patience, only want and need as he thrust into her. But she met him with a passion that was only Sabine. He felt her climax around him as she tossed back her head and cried out. His own release was not even a moment behind hers and rocked through him so fast and so hard he nearly fell to his knees. But he kept his stance and kept her bundled around him.
For a moment they stayed like that, holding on to each other, breathing hard. Then she slowly lowered her legs to stand on her own. They’d given no thought to being discovered. But he doubted a couple making love in the closet would even raise an eyebrow at this party.
All he could think of was that he’d never lost control with a woman before. Never. Not even his first time; he’d always been able to keep his need at bay. It was easy to pretend he did so because he was a generous, patient lover. But that was a lie. He focused on a woman’s needs because it made it easier to keep his heart detached. But not tonight. Tonight he’d forgotten everything except how much he wanted her. Sabine. Only Sabine.
Sabine cracked the door to peer out into the bedchamber. “I think they’re gone,” she whispered.
He saw her reticule tossed aside on the floor and picked it up. He’d nearly handed it to her when he remembered what he’d once seen her pull from within. Quickly he stuck his hand inside the bag and felt around. It didn’t take long for his fingers to brush against the glass vial. He snagged it, then dropped it into his pocket.
“Sabine, don’t forget your bag.” He held it out to her.
Quickly, they finished removing the sword, and it took all of Max’s strength to lift it from its anchors. Sneaking out of the party with a blade nearly as long as Max’s leg was tricky, but they managed to get back to their carriage without being seen.
Finally, they had the dove.
Only two more and then the military would finally be his. Tonight’s would be the most challenging. This man, Spencer knew. Some of the others had recognized him because of his position, but had not truly known him. This man, though, was actually a friend. Well, as much as he was able to call any man friend.
He had been in this house many times before, so breaking in and making his way through the house had been simple. He’d made certain that none of his friend’s servants had seen him enter the man’s study. For the last two hours, Spencer had waited quietly in the dark, sipping on some borrowed and rather expensive port.
The room had been wired with electricity, something the man could afford with his family’s wealth and the additional commendations from her majesty. And the power crackled as the man turned on the switch. It took a moment for the light to fully illuminate the space, and still Spencer waited in the shadows, waited until the man walked completely into the room and closed the door behind him.
He was the perfect soldier, Spencer lamented. It really was a shame he could not afford to keep the man around.
But Spencer knew this man in particular would not accept any such offer. His loyalty to the crown could not be tempted or purchased. So Spencer had no choice but to kill him.
The soldier stepped forward to his desk just as Spencer stepped out of the shadows. “Spencer,” the soldier said with great surprise. “Did we have a meeting set?”
“No.” He paused, waiting for fear to cross the man’s face. There was only caution in those slightly elevated eyebrows. “I wanted to discuss something with you. A proposition.” He knew the fear would come eventually.
The soldier nodded. “Have a seat.” Then he smiled. “I see you already helped yourself to the port.”
“Indeed.” Spencer allowed himself a slight chuckle. “I hope you don’t mind.” He enjoyed the pleasantries, knowing that in moments he’d watch as the man breathed his last.
Max stood at his study window watching Johns on the next block over, leaning against a brick building and trying to look in a different direction. He’d seen the same man following them on several other occasions, and now he realized how he knew him. It was the same man whom Max had caught Cassandra in bed with those many years ago. Her man Johns—not a man of title and wealth, but one who definitely turned the heads of the ladies with both his face and his body. Cassandra would never choose him in public, but in private he was, or had been, her lover.
Now Johns was evidently doing other tasks for Cassandra, namely following Max and Sabine as they searched for the dove. The man would make a wretched spy. For one, he stood out too much. He was at least a head taller than everyone else around him and broader than most men.
What interest would Cassandra have in an ancient weapon? Unless, of course, that’s not what she was after. Surely it wasn’t jealousy of Sabine. He hadn’t had a relationship with Cassandra in more than a decade.
No, it had to be something else.
Then Max remembered Sabine’s crème that was selling so quickly and how he’d seen Cassandra in her shop that first time purchasing some. She’d always been vain; anyone who knew her could see that. He’d been twenty-two when they’d been lovers and still devoted to his Atlantis research. He vaguely recollected speaking with her about Atlantis. Perhaps he had told her about the fountain of youth.
But was it possible that Cassandra had something to do with the deaths of the military officers? Johns was definitely strong enough to take those men down. What purpose would Cassandra have for such deeds?
Had she somehow found a copy of the prophecy and sought to play it out in hopes of gaining the elixir? Max doubted she was clever enough to come up with that sort of plan. But it would explain how the officers had been reached so easily. Any man would allow Cassandra a visit if she asked for one.
Perhaps it was time for Max to pay a visit to his former mistress and see what information she had for him.
Cassandra was tired of waiting for proof. She had also lost her patience with relying on others to do the job she’d hired them to do, and then never completing the task. It was past time she saw to matters herself and went after the fountain. She knew that woman, Sabine, had it. Soon Cassandra would possess it and all the magic it held.