Seducing the Ruthless Rogue Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Books by Tammy Jo Burns

  Seducing the Ruthless Rogue

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Excerpt - A Traitorous Heart

  Excerpt - A Thin Line

  Excerpt - To Love and Protect

  Excerpt - Taming the Wicked Wulfe

  Seducing the Ruthless Rogue

  The Rogue Agents, Book 2

  By

  Tammy Jo Burns

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Seducing the Ruthless Rogue, The Rogue Agents, Book 2

  Copyright © 2014 by Tammy Jo Burns

  A Traitorous Heart, The Reluctant Lords, Book 1

  Copyright © 2013 by Tammy Jo Burns

  A Thin Line, The Reluctant Lords, Book 2

  Copyright © 2013 by Tammy Jo Burns

  To Love and Protect, The Reluctant Lords, Book 3

  Copyright © 2014 by Tammy Jo Burns

  To Tame a Wicked Wulfe, The Rogue Agents, Book 1

  Copyright © 2014 by Tammy Jo Burns

  Cover design by The Killion Group, Inc.

  Books by Tammy Jo Burns

  The Reluctant Lords Trilogy:

  A Traitorous Heart

  A Thin Line

  To Love and Protect

  The Rogue Agents Trilogy:

  Taming the Wicked Wulfe

  Seducing the Ruthless Rogue

  Enticing the Weary Warrior - Spring/Summer 2015

  To find out more visit: http://www.tammyjoburns.com

  Seducing the Ruthless Rogue

  As Director of The War Office, Stuart McKenzie, has proven himself capable of making difficult decisions in times of crisis and keeping government secrets safe. When he walks in on someone ransacking his study he quickly moves to apprehend them, only to be tossed on his back as the burglar escapes into the night.

  Cassie’s father has become a pawn in the fight against Napoleon. When the enemy kidnaps him, she will do anything it takes to get him back – including stealing government secrets from Stuart McKenzie, the Director of the War Office.

  When Cassie is caught, she reluctantly agrees to Mack’s assistance as there is something far more sinister going on. As Mack embarks on his mission, he will find that enemies are often closer than one would think and that sometimes your ally will come in the least likely form. When passion erupts between Mack and Cassie, they find their lives forever altered. But just as they believe their lives to be free of danger, a new threat is lurking about, promising to rip their happiness away from them. Will they be able to trust each other enough to defeat this new threat, or will they be torn apart for all eternity?

  Prologue

  May 11, 1812

  Stuart McKenzie straightened the cuffs of his superfine and his cravat before he entered the lobby of the House of Commons. He received a note from Prime Minister Percevel to meet him here. Very rarely did he have direct contact with the prime minister, so he was intrigued as to why he was being asked to meet here of all places. Usually he would be summoned to the man’s office.

  He entered the lobby of the building to find men milling about. There would be meetings and hearings on different matters being held today. Mack moved to a shadowed corner where he could watch the proceedings. He did not like having his back to people. It was not wise for one in his position. Not after having had several assassination attempts on his life, the most recent having been last year. He had been left bloody and beaten, almost unrecognizable. His convalescence had taken much too long in his humble opinion, and he had been fighting to return to his position much sooner than anyone wanted him to.

  The doors opened at the other end of the lobby as Percevel entered with his entourage of people. They crossed the lobby and people could be heard hailing greetings to him. A man dressed in common work clothes and appearing disheveled entered, looking about nervously. Mack perked up and began to cross the lobby. Something about the man seemed off. He did not look as if he belonged with all these men. All of a sudden, the atmosphere seemed charged with energy.

  “Prime Minister,” the man called. Percevel turned, a smile on his face from something one of the other men was telling him, perhaps a joke. A loud pop echoed in the lobby, and Mack had only seconds to react. He jumped towards the man, not even getting out a warning, and then just as quickly fell to the floor. Another pop sounded, and then a flurry of activity broke out.

  Mack wheezed and tried to stand, but seemed unable to catch his breath. He lifted his head and watched Percevel’s eyes glass over as blood spread across the man’s chest. Men swarmed Prime Minister Percevel, dragging his inert body out of the lobby. His assassin stood by the door, unmoving, guns still in hand. Two burly security guards moved and quickly grabbed him, keeping him from escaping. Mack’s side ached fiercely. He placed a hand against it and attempted a deep breath. Instead he ended up coughing uncontrollably. He lifted his hand and saw blood smeared on it.

  “Help,” he tried to yell, but it came out more of a weak whisper. Mack lifted his head, but the men were blurring. He tried to push himself up, but dizziness washed over him. He squinted his eyes and thought he saw a familiar face. “Gabe!” he called twice before the man in question looked over.

  “Mack?”

  Mack let his head fall back on the marble floor and waited for oblivion to overcome him.

  “Mack!” The voice sounded a long way off, and something pushed firmly against his side, making him wince. “I need help over here!”

  “Don’t let Grandmother see me like this.”

  “Grandmother is the least of your worries, old man.”

  Mack smirked followed by a grimace of pain, then the darkness blessedly rolled in on him.

  Chapter 1

  Four Weeks Later

  “What is it?” Stuart McKenzie barked at the sound of a tepid knock on his office door.

  “Pardon the interruption, sir, but the young woman is here.”

  “Tell her the same thing as always.”

  “But sir, it has been almost a year. Can’t you just…”

  “No, I can’t, Mr. Preston.” Mack’s silvery eyes met the younger man’s without blinking.

  “Yes, sir.” The timid man backed out of the director’s office. He turned to the beautiful blonde that patiently sat in a chair near his desk. She sat in the same chair, one day a week, every week, for the last year, wanting to speak to Director McKenzie. Every time she left, disgruntled because he could not be bothered to speak to her. �
��Miss Graham.”

  “Let me guess, Mr. Preston. Director McKenzie is too busy, once again, to speak to me in regards to my missing father. I shall see you next week, and please give the Director my regards.”

  Mr. Preston watched the woman as she stood, turned, and regally left the office. There were times when he felt the man he worked for was truly an arse, and this was one of those times. He was a ruthless, Scottish brute, and it came out most specifically when dealing with his job as Director of the War Office. The secretary shot a look at the closed door and then returned to his desk. He was shuffling through the mail when a courier entered the room, breathless.

  “I have an urgent message for Director McKenzie sent from Lord Bathurst.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “I’ve been told to put it directly in his hands, no one else’s.”

  “Director, you have a missive.”

  “Send him in.”

  “Mr. Preston. How is his attitude today?” A strikingly handsome man, that favored the director quite a bit, entered the office.

  “Good morning, Your Grace,” Preston bowed low. Upon exiting the office, and hearing he was in the presence of a duke, the courier dropped a quick, respectful bow then left to complete his duties. “As surly as ever,” Mr. Preston answered his question.

  “I heard that,” a voice called from the inner-office. “You all speak of me as if I can’t hear a bloody word you say, but I can.”

  “Preston, can you get us some coffee?”

  “Of course, Your…” At that moment a string of curses and things being slammed and thrown about could be heard coming from the director’s office.

  “Go on, I’ll brave the bear.”

  The Duke of Hawkescliffe made his way into Director McKenzie’s office. Papers were strewn everywhere and some were still fluttering to the floor. Several heavy objects lay on the floor, including a broken lamp.

  “You better have that cleaned up before someone sets fire to this building using your office.”

  “Bugger off, Gabe.”

  “Now, is that any way to address a duke?”

  “Pardon me. Bugger off, Your Grace.”

  “That’s better. Now, brother dear, what has you in such a tizzy this morning?”

  “Where shall I start? Let’s see, there is the fact that every Monday morning at the same exact time, Sir Graham’s daughter sits in my secretary’s office demanding to see me. She does this because she wants to know where her father is. Does she not realize we are in the midst of war? That we are trying to save the old man’s life?”

  “Have you told her this?”

  “I shouldna have to! She should know this,” Mack growled, his Scottish brogue becoming even more pronounced.

  “Sometimes women…”

  “Need to stay out of matters they’ve no understanding of! And now the bloody Americans have decided to declare war on us.”

  “What?”

  “Yes,” he flung the paper across the desk to his half-brother. “I am in charge of fighting not just one bloody war, but two! We have a new Prime Minister, thanks to that idiot Bellingham, who decided to assassinate Percevel. And I have a new person to answer to since Prinny put Liverpool in as Prime Minister.”

  “And let’s not forget the assassination attempts on your own life.”

  “There is that, but they are in the past,” Mack acknowledged and defended.

  “You have been very lucky, thus far. How much longer do you think your luck will hold out? This last time was a near thing.”

  “Another year or two?” Mack said jokingly. “Look, Gabe, I know you are here because your wife and our Grandmother worries about me, but there is no need.”

  “No need? How many assassination attempts have you avoided in the last two years?” Silence greeted him. “That’s right. There have been too many to count.”

  “The man responsible is dead.”

  “Mack you can’t keep avoiding the fact that people want you dead. Instead of cutting off the head of the snake and it dying, it seems to sprout another head and then someone else wants to harm you.”

  “I’m not avoiding the fact that my life has been in danger ever since I took this position. I fully acknowledge it, but I will not go into hiding like some coward. Do you understand? And do you mean to tell me that if you’d been close enough to try and save Percevel, you wouldn’t have done the same damn thing?”

  “That’s not what I am saying and you know it. Now, sit down.”

  “Why?”

  “Liverpool is the one that sent me here today, not Mikala nor Grandmother.”

  “Liverpool?”

  “Yes. He and Bathurst believe you have pushed yourself too hard to return to work after Percevel’s assassination, and you should take some additional time off.”

  “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  “Yes, brother, you did. You only took a week off after being shot. That’s not enough time to heal. Is it?”

  “Yes,” he growled.

  “Then why is it when no one is looking, you are holding your side?”

  “Habit.”

  “You are the most stubborn damn Scotsman I know. Can you even concentrate on your job with the pain you’re in?”

  “We are in the middle of a war, two wars now. This isn’t a bloody tea party we’re having. Everyone has to make sacrifices. I have and will continue to work through the pain. It will go away in time. Tell them it isn’t going to happen.”

  “I don’t think you understand, Mack. You are not being given a choice. This is an order.”

  “You agree with them, don’t you?”

  “Mack, I don’t want to lose my last brother. I want my children to grow up and know their uncle. Besides, Grandmother has threatened to come and sit with you.”

  “She wouldn’t dare.”

  “We both know she would. Yes, you are irreplaceable, but you need to heal, completely,” the Duke of Hawkescliffe emphasized.

  “No one is pushing me out of my office.”

  “It has already been done. For the next month, you will be restricted from setting foot on the premises. Roger Presley, Earl of Blackstock, will be stepping in for you during those weeks. He is the same one who filled in for you before. He knows what he’s doing. I suggest you take the time to rest and let your body strengthen and heal. Then, maybe you will be in a better frame of mind and not so belligerent to everyone who comes within ten feet of you.”

  “Get out,” Mack growled.

  “Mack, you will see it’s for the best.”

  “I said, get the bloody hell out of my office!” he roared, as he stood and braced his hands on the top of his desk.

  “We’ll talk once you’ve had time to calm down. Presley will be by later this afternoon to be debriefed.”

  “He can go get himself…”

  “Now, now,” Gabe cajoled. “Once you have had the opportunity to think further on this, you will see this is in your best interest.” Gabe shut the door just as a heavy object crashed into the wall. “Mr. Preston, I would not go in there for the a few hours. It is going to take him some time to recover from this.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Preston looked at the door to the director’s office and felt pity for the man. He was a proud man, and it was going to be difficult for him to step down even temporarily.

  ***

  Cassiopeia Graham stepped out of the hired hack and paid the driver. She had followed the same protocol for the last year to no avail. She entered the small house she had lived in with her father for the last decade before his disappearance. Her father needed to live in London so that he would have easy access to the parts he needed for his inventions. So, when her mother died, there was nothing left to keep them attached to the seaside village she had grown up in.

  “Any word on your papa, Missy Cassie?”

  “No, Chang,” she answered, dejection and just a hint of anger coloring her voice.

  “There, there, Missy Cassie,” he patte
d her arm affectionately, “all will be fine. I bring you tea.”

  “Thank you, Chang.” She gave the old man a smile and tugged her gloves off. She laid them and her reticule on the small table in the hall and then hung up her pelisse. It was mid-June and the weather was extremely warm. The house was small and cozy. There were three bedrooms, a parlor, a study, and a kitchen. In the back was a detached building where her father worked on his inventions when he was in residence. Cassie strode to the study and sat down at the desk.

  She crossed her arms on the desk and laid her head on them. Where could he be? Why wouldn’t Director McKenzie at least let her know that her father was well? She had haunted his office for almost a year now. Surely he could see how worried she was about her father? No, he doesn’t know how worried she is because he has refused her every single time she has been to his office.

  Cassie had met Director McKenzie once at a dinner party given by Lady Greenwood. The man was a tall, dark, handsome Scot with silvery grey eyes. She had enjoyed verbally sparring with him about the war and other political matters. He had seemed surprised that evening about how much she knew about the political realm. Director McKenzie and the other men had taken her father off to a corner and began talking in earnest with him. Later, her father had refused to answer any of her questions about the oddity of the situation or what the men wanted with him.

  A few days later, her father announced he had a meeting with McKenzie and had never returned home. The next morning, Cassie had arisen, dressed and taken herself off to the War Office to speak with Director McKenzie. It had not been a pleasant confrontation.

  “He will not see me?” she asked Mr. Preston.

  “No, Miss Graham.”

  “My father is missing after leaving the house solely to speak with the man in that office, and he will not deign to speak with me?”