Scoundrel:. Zoe Archer
you, you’re very kind, Mr. Fraser.” She took Fraser’s offered arm, and they left the marketplace, with Sally behind them. London made herself look straight ahead, as much as she wanted to glance back and see what had become of the mysterious Mr. Drayton. It didn’t signify. She doubted she would ever see him again. But she wasn’t sure if that should raise or lower her spirits.
That was bloody close. Fortunately, Fraser hadn’t spotted Bennett, or else the bastard would have set the usual thugs after him, and that wasn’t something Bennett particularly wanted to experience again. Heirs always hired local muscle to do their dirty work. Lucky for the Heirs, greed was universal, so they had a ready supply of desperate, amoral men wherever their searches took them.
As Bennett slid into a nearby alley off the market square, an old enmity seethed back to life. Thomas bloody Fraser. Here in Greece. De-sodding-lightful. Bennett didn’t care for any of the Heirs, but Fraser was a particular bane. Especially after Fraser’s involvement with the Norway debacle years ago that cost Bennett a piece of his small toe, and nearly his life. Fraser’s appearance in the market had made Bennett pull his signature disappearing act. He didn’t know what Fraser was doing in the market. Probably the git was performing reconnaissance. Heirs traveled in packs of no less than two, so somewhere out in Athens was at least one other thieving Heir bastard. Who made up the rest of their raiding party, Bennett didn’t know.
He would find out soon enough. He’d tail Fraser, maybe find out where he and the other Heirs were staying in Athens.
Bennett took a step from the alley, but a familiar Teutonic voice stopped him. “English dog! Now I break your neck!”
Bennett groaned in exasperation. The captain was awake and untied. And headed straight for him.
No help for it. As soon as the German came within striking distance, Bennett threw out a left jab, connecting solidly with the captain’s face and snapping the man’s head back from the impact. Quick and sharp, Bennett followed with a hard straight right to the chin. The captain hadn’t even the time to make a sound. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Confident that the captain would stay down this time, Bennett ducked back into the marketplace. And swore in several languages. Fraser was gone. With no way to know where he’d gone. The labyrinth of Athens had swallowed up the Heir.
The lady was gone, too.
A damned shame that Bennett hadn’t been able to spend more time with that delicious woman. It wasn’t a boast that Bennett considered himself something of an expert and a gourmet where females were concerned. And the nameless English lady was indeed a fine specimen that he wished he could explore at leisure. She was beautiful, of that there could be no debate. Thick hair the color of golden brown silk, and eyes the kind of rich chocolate in which a man could lose himself. A wide mouth, ripe and rosy. Her modish light blue day gown set off her slim figure. Not exactly voluptuous, but her curves were honest, her waist small—he knew this from tying the scarf there. He had no trouble picturing his hands at that waist, holding her to a wall as he plunged into her, her moans in his ear. The picture was so vivid, he clenched his jaw and forced himself to walk slowly through the market to cool his heated blood.
The sun began to set. Time to head back to his home base and reconnoiter with his fellow Blade. There was still the manifest to study. Bennett headed north, away from the market, but his thoughts remained behind, lingering over the Englishwoman.
She’d been more than beautiful to look upon. She had a sharp mind, and that was something Bennett truly appreciated in a lover. There wasn’t anything more arousing than a woman applying her intelligence to lovemaking. Such mouth-watering possibility. He’d known many other intelligent women, but something more than her intellect kept Bennett thinking of his unnamed Englishwoman in Monastiraki. Many clever females were satisfied with only their books, preferring a path of the mind.
Lady Troublemaker wanted life, she hungered for it, embraced its messiness and chaos. The world was new to her, and she stood ready to receive it.
How many men had she known? How many lovers? Not many, he’d wager. She had an air of untapped carnal potential, an eager student of sensuality. She could, with the proper guidance, surpass her teacher. And then, what a better world this would be, with such a woman in it.
His cock, disappointed by the interruption at Elena’s, appreciated these images and stirred. Go back to your napping, Bennett ordered. Still, it was hard to forget her, even harder to ignore that strange, vivid moment when his fingers had touched her hand. In all his years, after countless encounters with a vast array of women, Bennett couldn’t recall ever having so visceral, so immediate a reaction to touching a woman. And it had gone beyond the physical, too. A sudden, profound connection with no known origin other than something in his body that recognized her, knew and needed her.
Rot. He simply wanted a fuck, but he wasn’t going to get one. Not for a while. He was there for the Blades, which meant carnal appetites would have to go unsatisfied until the mission was complete. That clumsy bull Fraser showing in the marketplace proved that the Heirs were truly in Greece.
Bennett reached into a hidden pocket in his jacket. He pulled out a heavy, old compass and considered its face, four blades marking each direction, a rose at the center. More than a means of finding direction, it resonated with ancient secrets and sacred promises. All Blades knew one another by this Compass. He used it to guide him back to his home base in Athens. It was time to get down to business. There was dangerous work to be done.
Chapter 2
Unexpected Connections
“I expected you a half an hour ago,” Athena Galanos said as Bennett entered the study. She sat at a heavy table, books and papers strewn about in an abstruse system only she could understand. A servant entered the room with Bennett, lighting lamps against the oncoming dusk.
Bennett went to the large pedestal globe in the corner of the room and spun it on its axis. Continents and countries whirled. When the servant came forward with a glass of Muscat, he murmured his thanks and sipped at the wine. Dry and clear, it slid down his throat. Athena always had a fine cellar, but it was to be expected. Her family was one of the oldest and most esteemed in Athens, with a large and elegant house at the base of the southern slope of Lycabettus Hill. The Galanos women had been active as Blades in Greece, well before the country won its independence, in a tradition of honor that passed from mother to daughter. The name Galanos was passed on the female side, since they never gave birth to sons, and saw men merely as means by which the line could continue. Their lovers seldom lasted more than the time it took for the getting of a child. A sophisticated, matriarchal coven on the shores of the Aegean, which Bennett appreciated, being enamored of the whole female race.
“Got a little caught up in something,” he said.
Athena raised one dark brow. “And how did the husband feel about that?”
“The usual histrionics. Had a nice little chase through Plaka. Very bracing.”
She peered closer at him. “I don’t see any wounds.”
Bennett placed a hand over his chest. “Just my heart, dear lady.”
“Of all your organs,” she said, “it is perhaps the most resilient.”
“But I did get this,” he continued, taking the manifest from his pocket and tossing it to her.
Athena grabbed it from the air, and began to rifle through the pages. “So your appetite for information was satisfied, at least.”
He grinned, but decided not to mention the English lady from the marketplace. He wasn’t sure what he would tell Athena, anyway. That he’d met an exceptionally pretty, intelligent woman whose simple touch affected him, in more ways than the physical? Athena knew Bennett well and would likely laugh at his description of the encounter. He did give his heart easily—though it was nothing compared to the freedom with which he gave his body—yet his heart was boundless and nigh incapable of tapping its supply of affection and desire. He never feared exhausting himself on one woman. True, this meant that he