A Code of Love (The Code Breakers 1) by Jacki Delecki

flaming as she set him down for his rakish behavior.
    He couldn’t believe he had argued about the number of years since he had danced with her. Why did he feel that he needed to win when he was with her? His need wasn’t just to win. It was to possess Henrietta Harcourt.
    Four years ago, he had asked her to dance at Lady Chillington’s ball because she was the only woman he didn’t recognize as one of his Aunt Euphemia’s potential matches. The sparks had immediately flown between them.
    She wasn’t pleased, like all the other debutantes he asked to dance. She couldn’t mask her disdain. In frustration and in an attempt to assert his control, he pulled her too close, breaking all rules of propriety. She wasn’t in any way intimidated by him, actually just the opposite. She was amused.
    “Is this your only method—to bully those who won’t dance to your tune?” She had laughed then, the most incredibly joyful sound. That sound had moved into every cell of his body, invigorating and calming him all at the same time.
    “I didn’t intend a pun, but I do like it,” she’d said, continuing to smile and clearly enjoying her witticism. She had been oblivious to his mounting awareness of her body pressed against him.
    That had been the moment he’d decided she was a lady worth pursuing. Unfortunately, soon after Henrietta retired to the country to take care of her ill mother and he received his assignment in France.
    Today, when she was lying under him in the mud, he had never wanted a woman more. His uncontrolled response was more than lust. He enjoyed the battle with her, the tug and pull between them. The challenge invigorated him, bringing back a youthful enthusiasm he believed he’d never regain after his brother’s death.
    Isabelle’s appearance at the Wentworth ball had made it difficult for him to prove his serious intentions. And Henrietta wouldn’t be pleased about the position he held over her uncle and her brother, especially since she considered him a rake of the first order.
    Sir Ramston should never have sent Kendal into the lair of Le Chiffre. Kendal didn’t have the experience to handle the intrigue. He needed to bring the young pup home before anything happened to him. He was ready to admit that his nagging worry for Kendal was because of his quick-tempered sister.

 
    Chapter Six
     
    Lord Brinsley shivered and cursed as the icy rain soaked into his embroidered footman livery. This was Paris as Sir Ramston had promised, but he had no time to indulge in watching the exotic dancers or drinking in the outside cafes. Instead, he was concealed behind a tree, watching the Saint Germain residency of the Earl of Kendal. Sir Ramston had been succinct with his assignment. “Keep Kendal safe.”
    Two months ago, Brinsley had believed the life of a spy to be romantic. Now he knew better. It was tedious at best. His days were spent as the watchful footman in Le Chiffre’s home, where Kendal spent his days studying Greek. At night, he played guardian shadow to Kendal. His expectation of protecting a brilliant linguist in Paris clashed with the reality of the job. None of his manly skills, well-honed after years of carousing, had been challenged.
    He turned to the sound of pounding feet. A dark figure resembling Kendal raced toward Kendal’s house. No more than twenty yards behind, a second figure appeared. A tall man in a long black cape chased the first man. The caped pursuer paused when the first man reached the front entrance of the mansion. The pursuer raised his arm to take aim.
    Brinsley made a mad dash. The report echoed when the door opened. He was too late. A wounded Kendal fell forward into the arms of the butler then the door slammed shut.
    Brinsley’s heart cantered against his chest. How in the hell had Kendal left his house?
    The caped assailant calmly lowered his arm and turned away from the scene.
    Brinsley ran to catch the assailant who sauntered down the street as if on an evening