A Sinful Alliance. Amanda McCabe

The woman who incited his lusts and then tried to murder him.

      He knew she would come for him. She was rumoured to be ruthless to the enemies of France. Such as what had happened to a certain Monsieur Etampes, who dared attempt to be a double agent for Spain! A grotesque end indeed. And Nicolai had slighted her by daring to live.

      But over the long months since Venice, he had forgotten how very potent her presence was. Her exotic perfume, the cold light in her eyes—they were like a strong wine, lulling and lovely. He would have to be more cautious in the future, and find a way to fight her from a safe distance. Or he would end up like poor Etampes, or Signor Farcinelli in Milan. Another bad end.

      Nicolai laughed, suddenly exhilarated. He was always buoyed by a good fight, and the Emerald Lily—or Marguerite Dumas, as he had learned she was called—certainly gave as good as she got. Despite her small size, it took a great deal of strength for him to hold her still, to keep her from kicking and clawing. It also took all his strength to ignore the feel of her in his arms, the press of her soft body against his.

      He unfastened his doublet, and tossed it along with his shirt over the narrow bed, letting the cold breeze from the open window wash over his face, his naked chest. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, a thin line of pinkish-gold light that promised bright hours ahead.

      He would have to write Marc and thank him for sending him on this fool’s errand. This English meeting seemed suddenly full of colour and interest. Surely anything at all could happen in the days ahead.