Page 84 of The Highlander's Secret
He considered for a breath. “I like this new look for you, it has an air of grand victory about it,” Slade said, with an overdone flourish of his hand.
“It does, doesn’t it.” Phoebe chuckled, warmth cascading down her body.
Slade sat up in bed, detangling himself from his own garments. His expression sobered. “I had to see wily old Bullfinch on my way back and received news which he wanted me to share since it is relevant to your mission. Prince Charles Edward Stuart was arrested in France by the French authorities while attending the opera at the Théâtre du Palais-Royal. Under the new rules of the Aix-la-Chapelle Treaty, France and Britain are now allies. A rebel of Britain is now an outlaw in France.”
Phoebe gasped, shocked. Her right palm made a move to cover her mouth, as she dropped down on the nearest divan. “Oh no. We must get him out.”
“The Movement is doing so as we speak. Bulfinch said also that the elusive and dangerous Ossifrage is on his way to the Highlands. Bulfinch plans to stay out of his way. Ossifrage tends to be a harbinger of bad news,” Slade said.
Blue Jay had described Ossifrage as elegant, exceptionally intelligent but also devious and deadly. As the spymaster of the west region, he is known for being ruthless and taking on missions no one else could accomplish, not above utilizing bribery and fraud amongst the highest echelons of society to get what he wanted, even extending to the King himself. Thankfully Phoebe had never had the displeasure of meeting him. He sounded like a veritable villain.
“With Prince Charles Edward Stuart being an outlaw, is the future of the Movement in jeopardy? Is that why Ossifrage is coming to the Highlands?” Phoebe said.
Was Scotland’s rebellion over? Had King George II, the English government, and the Whig party won?Blast it all to hell
Slade came to kneel in front of the divan where she sat, taking both her hands in his and kissing her knuckles. His nearness completely rid her body of worry and her head of rational political thoughts.
“Uncertain times indeed, especially for those of us who wanted things the way they were before the signing of the Union,” he said, his eyes hungrily resting on her lips for a moment before he leaned in and took her mouth with his. This kiss was slow and seductive. His tongue gently plundered her mouth, deliciously spinning her head and sending whirls of sensations down her body all the way to her toes.
He cupped her breasts over the soft fabric of the dressing gown and growled. Phoebe was panting when she broke the kiss, Slade’s eyes were dark but questioning. It took tremendous strength of will to focus her mind back to the Movement. “Will funding from France for the Movement stop?” she asked breathlessly.
His brows wrinkled, as he stood up and went to the sideboard. It seemed he needed a drink after all. “I doubt it. Outwardly they will make a show of support for Britain, but inwardly still harbor hopes of weakening the British Empire,” Slade said.
She would have guessed the same. Phoebe tried to focus her thoughts on the future of the Movement, but her eyes strayed to the delicious sight of Slade’s exposed skin.
“I’ll have to get new orders from Falcon, but I fully intend on continuing my fight against the redcoats,” she murmured, distracted by his lips on the tumbler as he downed the liquidin one gulp. She licked her own lips as her body’s temperature notched up and her core contracted, in emptiness.
She stood up and closed the distance between her and Slade. Heat enveloped her body as she slid her arms around her husband’s narrow waist, raising her eyes to meet his dark ones. She’d worry about Falcon’s orders later.
“Make love to me,” she said.
“With pleasure, my Warrior Goddess,” he said.
His smile was slow and wicked as his mouth came down on hers. Their next bout of lovemaking wasn’t slow or sweet, it was rough and delicious. Slade did however manage to keep his promise of slow and sweet loving, the third time around.
