Meet the eldest Blakeney brother – Cam, a spy in Georgian England.
Excerpt (for mature audience only)
He found his room, unlocked it with the key he had been given earlier, then entered. His luggage was by the bed. He decided to unpack it quickly while his bath was being prepared. A knock at the door interrupted him half way through.
“Enter,” he called.
It was the burly Mr. Wilson and another man carrying a bath tub.
“Where do you want it, sir?”
“By the fireplace please.” He watched the two men place it down, before carrying on with his unpacking. A few moments later, more steps were heard on the stairs and two young lads entered with steaming buckets of water. One of them struggled slightly under the weight and Cameron recognized the tall, puny lad from earlier. The boy needed to fill baths more often, then he’d become more muscular.
The boys continued up and down the stairs, bringing more buckets, while Cameron finished unpacking. Then once the bath was full enough, he went behind a screen to undress. He heard footsteps come in again.
“Leave the bucket, lad,” he said and happened to peer over the screen.
“Very well, Sir.”
It was the puny boy. He bent down to put the bucket on the floor and Cameron got a full view of trousers pulled tight across a pair of buttocks. What in tarnation? This was no boy. He suspected it was Lady Willoughby in another disguise. Cameron paused in undressing. Then felt the devil in him. He’d teach the chit to enter a bachelor’s room. Let’s see how my lady reacts to a naked man. “Close the door, lad.”
Cameron grinned. Her voice was suitably gruff, despite her wary query. He’d test her to see how long she could maintain her disguise for. “You can scrub my back.”
Half-expecting her to bolt, he watched over the top of the screen with interest as she hesitated, then put her shoulders back in determination. She swaggered over to the door in perfect imitation of a young lad’s confident walk, shut the door—even turned the key in the lock, before going over to the bath to wait for him.
Cameron stepped out naked from behind the screen, watching her face all the while. To give her credit, she didn’t so much as bat an eyelid. She merely looked him over, pausing at his cock, before lowering her gaze to his legs. Then she turned to look at the bath.
“Water cools rapidly, sir,” she pointed out in a deep voice.
Cameron had to admit this was a first for him. A woman unimpressed by his physique. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted. She certainly had pluck anyway. He climbed into the bath, sat down and turned to look at her. “Wash my hair first, there’s a good lad.”
Annoyance flashed in those expressive blue eyes, before she lowered lashes over them. “Yes, sir.”
Cameron turned his head away before she saw his grin. He’d see how far he could push her. Yet, the joke was definitely on him when she started to knead his scalp with soapy hands. It felt extremely good and he bit back a groan. Who’d have thought such a simple act could be so sensual? When Cameron’s scalp was fully lathered, she took her hands off him, much to his regret.
“I’ll just rinse the soap off.”
Cameron closed his eyes in readiness—and got the shock of his life, when freezing cold water was poured over his head.
“Serves you right, you arrogant bastard,” she snapped. Then the bucket was in the bath with him and she was going toward the door.
Cameron surged up, out of the bath, sloshing water everywhere. He sped after her, catching her around the waist and pulling her against him as she struggled with the key in the lock. That had been her mistake—locking the door.
“You’re not going anywhere, Lady Willoughby.”
Book 3 is due out soon.