“Head for the Common,” Noah ordered brusquely, buying them time.

“Yes, sir,” came the reply as the carriage turned a corner, changing directions.

Noah watched CC surreptitiously as she worked at fastening the buttons of her shirt. When she seemed to be making little progress, he leaned forward and brushed her hands aside to do it himself. CC submitted to his assistance only because she was too nervous to do it herself.

As he performed the task, his knuckles pressed ever so lightly against the still sensitive tips of her breasts, and her body responded wildly to that simple stimulation. Nervously, wishing he would finish so she would be free of her torment, she held herself stiffly and tried to control her breathing so he would not know, but Noah sensed the change in her. He looked up at her questioningly, girding himself as he expected to face her fury.

Her expression was unguarded in that moment, and what he saw reflected on her flushed features sent a surge of disquieting emotion through him. Her emerald eyes were wide and soft as she tried to deal with her passion, and as she met his gaze, her tongue darted out to wet her lips…inviting without inviting.

Ensnared by the haunting beauty of her gaze, Noah paused in his endeavor and let his regard drop from her face to the still-exposed loveliness of her breasts. The shirt was gaping open, revealing their swelling, hard-tipped perfection, and he knew a commanding desire to press heated, arousing kisses upon that, her most erotic, flesh. At just the thought of claiming her once more his loins came alive, throbbing with maddening intensity. It was only the lurching of the carriage as it rounded yet another corner that tore his thoughts away from his runaway desires and back to reality.

The reality was, he realized with a jolt, that this attraction between them had to be fought. His need for her was becoming almost an obsession, and he had to conquer it. He could not allow any woman to become that important to him. She was a female just like all the others; there was nothing different about CC.

The hidden thought taunted him that there was something special about CC, but he ignored it. He had come to Boston with only one goal, and he had almost accomplished that goal. He had no intention of allowing CC, a mere colonial chit, to interfere with his plans. He was going to reestablish the Kincade name in England. Nothing else mattered-not CC, not the damned revolutionary cause, not anything. Firmly he hardened himself against her, focusing on his goals.

As CC stared up at Noah, watching his expression turn aloof and slightly arrogant, her emotions were in a turmoil. She was aching with the need to be touched by him again, to feel the thrill of his lips upon her bosom and the strength of him buried deep within her, but her thoughts were at odds with her body, demanding that she control herself and deny her passion.

Logic was coldly dictating to her that she was a fool to have given herself to him. Noah was amoral, used people to his own benefit, and loved money above all else. If those reasons weren’t enough to discourage her interest, he had every intention of leaving Boston and returning to England just as soon as he could.

Still, and this came as a devastating revelation, CC could not deny that she wanted him. She knew every bad thing about him, and yet, the moment he touched her, her body betrayed her and she could only surrender.

No one else had ever had the power to excite her as he did, and distraughtly, she wondered for a moment if she could possibly be in love with him. The thought frightened her and drained her desire as she fought to keep from even considering it. She could not, would not love Noah Kincade! Defiantly, in victory over her wayward emotions, she shuttered her own expression.

“I’ll have the driver drop you near the Common,” he said coolly, his gaze resting impersonally upon her now.

CC didn’t know what she’d expected him to say and she was glad it was something unrelated to what had passed between them. “Yes. That’ll be good.”

“I think it’s important that we make certain to avoid each other from now on.” Noah spoke first with cool purpose.

“I didn’t exactly plan this ‘rendezvous,’ you know!” Though CC logically agreed with his statement, her heart shattered in agony. She busied herself with fastening the rest of her buttons and cramming her hair back up under her hat.

He gave an exasperated sigh as he replied with disdain, “Please, there’s no reason for us to belabor the point.”

“There’s nothing to belabor, Kincade.” She girded herself against the need she had to go back into his arms and stay there as long as he would have her. “What happens between us defies sensibleness. I don’t even like you…” Her expression reflected the loathing she felt for both her own weakness and for him.

“What a relief,” he remarked drolly, covering the odd hurt he felt at her declaration.

CC glared at him. “You just stay away from me, and I’ll make every effort to avoid you.”

“I shall do my best,” he nodded.

The driver called down as he pulled the coach to a stop. “We’re at the Common. Now what?”

Without another word CC opened the door and jumped out into the concealing Boston night, the sting of tears pressing her to hurry away before Noah could witness her upset. Noah found himself peering out the door after her, feeling suddenly as if he’d lost something very precious as he listened to the fading sound of her footfalls.

Geoffrey leaned his elbows on his desk as he stared at his servant in interest. “What you’re telling me is that Kincade may have some connection with the dissidents, but that we can’t prove it?”

“We can’t prove it, yet, m’lord,” Bartley answered with reassurance and respect.

“So since your first report to me the day after the Demorest ball about his meeting at the Green Dragon with this Ryan Graves and Sam Adams, he’s done nothing? He’s had no contact with anyone?” Geoffrey demanded sarcastically.

“Well, sir…” he hedged.

“What is it, man? Tell me everything!” Geoffrey slammed a hand on the desktop.

“He did have an assignation…”

Geoffrey paled and then flushed with fury as he realized who the woman was. “With whom?”

“The Widow Woodham, sir,” he answered tentatively.

“When?” he snarled.

“Last evening. The man I hired to follow him said that he went there early in the evening and remained for several hours.”

“I see.” His tone was icy as his resolve to destroy Noah became more implacable. “What about his brother? Or the captain of his ship? Anything there?”

“The brother’s activities show some promise…”

“Oh?”

“Yes, m’lord. Matthew Kincade has been paying frequent visits to the home of the Widow Ruth Hammond and her young daughter, Faith. Hammond’s husband, as you will recall, was one of the colonists killed during that shooting some years ago,” Bartley offered helpfully.

“Hammond…” Geoffrey frowned. “No, I don’t remember. I don’t concern myself with that trivia.”

“Anyway,” the servant continued, “Hammond had been one of the troublemakers. We don’t know for certain if his widow or his daughter is still involved with the rebels, but we have found out that they do keep company with Ben Hardwick.”

“And just who is this Ben Hardwick?”

“Well, according to my sources, he’s one of the most ardent supporters of Adams and Hancock, m’lord.” He provided the information with a smile.

“Ah…the connection deepens… Noah Kincade had a meeting with Sam Adams and Ryan Graves, and his brother is involved with one of Adams’s staunchest supporters…to what purpose, I wonder.” His eyes narrowed as he considered all the possibilities.

“I have heard that a romance is developing between the Hammond girl and the younger Kincade.”