of glowing lights, dignified architectural silhouettes, narrow streets, and the winding Thames, all encircled by a starry night sky and a waxing moon.
“It’s magical,” she choked out, nearly overwhelmed.
Drummond stood behind her, his hand lightly touching her waist. “Isn’t it, though?” he said near her ear.
She was tempted to lean back in the circle of his arms and simply gaze at the glorious view … but she couldn’t very well assert herself if he unleashed her recently discovered appetite for kissing. When they were kissing, all thoughts of defying him went out the window.
Besides, she was trying to save her kisses for Sergei.
“I can’t see the stars like this from the street,” she admitted. “And the city is … breathtaking.” She’d never known it could be. Nothing in her experience had ever compared to St. Petersburg, but here she was—in the midst of a majestic scene—right at home.
She looked back at him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
His eyes were dark pools. “You’re welcome.”
Poppy couldn’t breathe, he was so handsome. But he’s not Sergei, she reminded herself. He was an arrogant Englishman with her silk stocking in his pocket, ever ready to force her hand. Who cared that when he kissed her, she longed to disrobe and have him run his hands all over her body?
“The paper, please,” he said.
“Oh, yes.” She pulled it out of her bodice—realizing a bit too late that hiding it there might not have been the best idea. She hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. “Kettle and I enjoyed playing with that clever cane.”
Drummond took the scrap from her, lit a match, and burned it without reading it.
She gasped.
“I already know what it says,” he explained.
“We could have burned that at home.”
“Yes, we could have, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.” He leaned on the railing next to her, his eyes on the city landscape. “Up here, you’re much more likely to listen to what I have to say. There’s something about this view that gives one clarity. Are you ready?”
“I suppose.” She leaned next to him, elbow to elbow, and marveled at the incredible vista.
“You must stay out of my business while we’re engaged,” he said, staring straight ahead. “For your own good. I get involved in things that a proper young lady should know nothing about.”
“Then I don’t want to be a proper young lady,” she blurted out.
“Of course you do,” he said, censuring her with a look. “Proper young ladies don’t create risk. Risk is part of my business. I must eliminate all unnecessary danger.”
“Are you saying I’m a danger?” She backed away from him a step.
He was the Duke of Drummond, after all. Perhaps he’d planned to take her up here so he could throw her over the side of the gallery to her death.
“I’m not going to eliminate you,” he told her with a chuckle. “Although I fear you could wreck the operation.”
“What operation?”
“Operation Pink Lady. My assignment. My secret assignment. The one mentioned in that paper inside the cane.”
Heavens .
For a moment, she could barely speak. “So that’s what OPL means.”
“Exactly.”
“I want to help,” she said. “And by the way, you’re not the only one who deals with subterfuge. My friends and I have our own secret organization.”
“Is that so? What’s it about?”
“None of your business. It’s secret .”
“I’ll bet it has to do with men. Women always have secrets about men. How to capture them, stifle them, and break their hearts.”
She scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Men are the ones who do that to women, and yes—that’s a bit what our secret organization is about, protecting women’s interests.”
He gave a short laugh. “And you want me to entrust you with secrets? Look how easily you just told me yours.”
“I was making a point. And I never told you any details.”
“I got details enough.” He lifted her chin. “The
“It’s magical,” she choked out, nearly overwhelmed.
Drummond stood behind her, his hand lightly touching her waist. “Isn’t it, though?” he said near her ear.
She was tempted to lean back in the circle of his arms and simply gaze at the glorious view … but she couldn’t very well assert herself if he unleashed her recently discovered appetite for kissing. When they were kissing, all thoughts of defying him went out the window.
Besides, she was trying to save her kisses for Sergei.
“I can’t see the stars like this from the street,” she admitted. “And the city is … breathtaking.” She’d never known it could be. Nothing in her experience had ever compared to St. Petersburg, but here she was—in the midst of a majestic scene—right at home.
She looked back at him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
His eyes were dark pools. “You’re welcome.”
Poppy couldn’t breathe, he was so handsome. But he’s not Sergei, she reminded herself. He was an arrogant Englishman with her silk stocking in his pocket, ever ready to force her hand. Who cared that when he kissed her, she longed to disrobe and have him run his hands all over her body?
“The paper, please,” he said.
“Oh, yes.” She pulled it out of her bodice—realizing a bit too late that hiding it there might not have been the best idea. She hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. “Kettle and I enjoyed playing with that clever cane.”
Drummond took the scrap from her, lit a match, and burned it without reading it.
She gasped.
“I already know what it says,” he explained.
“We could have burned that at home.”
“Yes, we could have, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.” He leaned on the railing next to her, his eyes on the city landscape. “Up here, you’re much more likely to listen to what I have to say. There’s something about this view that gives one clarity. Are you ready?”
“I suppose.” She leaned next to him, elbow to elbow, and marveled at the incredible vista.
“You must stay out of my business while we’re engaged,” he said, staring straight ahead. “For your own good. I get involved in things that a proper young lady should know nothing about.”
“Then I don’t want to be a proper young lady,” she blurted out.
“Of course you do,” he said, censuring her with a look. “Proper young ladies don’t create risk. Risk is part of my business. I must eliminate all unnecessary danger.”
“Are you saying I’m a danger?” She backed away from him a step.
He was the Duke of Drummond, after all. Perhaps he’d planned to take her up here so he could throw her over the side of the gallery to her death.
“I’m not going to eliminate you,” he told her with a chuckle. “Although I fear you could wreck the operation.”
“What operation?”
“Operation Pink Lady. My assignment. My secret assignment. The one mentioned in that paper inside the cane.”
Heavens .
For a moment, she could barely speak. “So that’s what OPL means.”
“Exactly.”
“I want to help,” she said. “And by the way, you’re not the only one who deals with subterfuge. My friends and I have our own secret organization.”
“Is that so? What’s it about?”
“None of your business. It’s secret .”
“I’ll bet it has to do with men. Women always have secrets about men. How to capture them, stifle them, and break their hearts.”
She scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Men are the ones who do that to women, and yes—that’s a bit what our secret organization is about, protecting women’s interests.”
He gave a short laugh. “And you want me to entrust you with secrets? Look how easily you just told me yours.”
“I was making a point. And I never told you any details.”
“I got details enough.” He lifted her chin. “The
Similar Books
