Wicked Surrender (Regency Sinners)(23)



There was no denying he had made such a promise. But at the time of making it, Dante had not known his cock would have been in Bella’s mouth, or that he would afterward have held Bella in his arms for hours on the rest of the drive here. Nor had he anticipated his immediate intention, upon their arrival would be to carry out his promise to bend her over the back of a chair and pound into her until they were both satiated.

Clearly, Bella’s thoughts were far less carnal than his own.

His mouth twisted. “Can it not wait until after I have fucked you?”

Angry color brightened her cheeks. “Is that because you doubt I will be willing afterwards?”

Dante scowled. She was too astute by half.

He sighed, knowing he might as well get this over and done with. That afterward, far from wanting the two of them to fuck, Bella might not even want to talk to him for having accused her unjustly. “How well do you know Napoleon?”

She looked taken aback. “Bonaparte?”

He eyed her coldly. “There is no other Napoleon that I know of who is of interest to the English Crown.”

Bella was totally stunned by the strange turn the conversation had taken. Napoleon? What on earth did the deposed emperor have to do with Dante kidnapping her and bringing her to this remote lodge in a Hampshire forest?

Unless…

“Do you suspect me of some misdeed where the Corsican is concerned?” she questioned cautiously.

“Your name, along with seven other ladies, has been brought to the attention of the Prince Regent.”

“And the Prince Regent in turn brought it to your attention?”

“Via a third party, yes.”

“What third party?”

“A spymaster for the Crown.”

“Who is…?”

“None of your damned business.”

“Who are you? What are you?” she demanded.

He looked down the length of his nose at her. “I see no point in not revealing I am, and have long been, an agent for the Crown. As you, or one of these other ladies, is suspected of being an agent for Napoleon,” he added harshly.

Bella felt as if a lump of ice had formed in her chest. The Prince Regent could not seriously believe… Dante could not believe…

But it all made so much more sense now.

The surprise of Dante calling upon her yesterday to renew their acquaintance when she had not set eyes on him for years, except out and about in Society…

His having someone watching her to alert him if or when she attempted to leave London without him… A deed she had intended carrying out, and in light of what he had just revealed to her, must put her in a very bad light.

Rather than the truth, which had been her need to escape Dante and the emotions he had rekindled inside her when he called upon her.

What had his making love to her been about?

Dante’s gift to himself, perhaps? An unexpected bonus, for his having needed to be with her at all?

A deep anger flared within Bella of an intensity such as she had never known before. “On what evidence do you base your accusation?”

Dante’s jaw was tensed, his hands clasped together behind his back. “We know the spy to be a woman. We also know information was passed at a total of six Society events in the past year. You and the other seven ladies I mentioned were present at all of them, whereas others were present at some but not all. Also, in your case, your father was French,” he added softly.

“He died when I was just a baby!” she defended. “I do not even remember him.” Something that Bella had always regretted. “My mother and I moved to England fifteen years ago.”

“But you still have relatives in France.”

She nodded. “That I have not seen since we moved to England.”

“We only have your word for that.”

“And my word, it would seem, is not to be trusted,” Bella snapped, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. “You kidnapped me, have brought me to Hampshire against my will, made love to me, all in the name of the English Crown?”

A nerve pulsed in his cheek. “Yes.”

“You manipulative bastard!”

He gave an acknowledging nod of her disgust. “It is not the first time such an accusation has been leveled at me. Nor,” he continued in a hard voice as she would have spoken, “will it be the last, I am sure.”

“As am I.” Bella’s lips curled with distaste.

“What is your own excuse for making love to me in the carriage, Bella?” he challenged. “Some manipulation of your own, perhaps?”

“How dare you.”

“That is not an answer.”

“I hate you!” It was a childish cry, immature in the extreme, and yet Bella had been unable to stop herself from saying it.

Dante eyed her mockingly. “It is not the first time a lady has said that to me either.”

“It will most certainly not be the last!”

He gave an acknowledging inclination of his head. “How well do you know the Monroes?”

“The Monroes…” Bella was having trouble keeping up with this jumping about from subject to subject. “What relevance do they have to any of this?”

Dante shrugged. “If they are your contacts, then they will also need to be arrested.”

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