Dev chuckled along with her. “Like old friends.”
Her eyebrows formed a quizzical line. “I’ve never had a friend likeyou, Lord Devil.”
That pulled another chuckle from him.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” He found he was in the mood to mean it.
“Anything?”
He spread his hands wide. “I’m an open book to an old friend such as yourself.”
She gave a wry shake of the head, even as her curiosity remained undeterred. “If you’re so in love with the countess, then why do you,hmm?—”
She was searching for a word, and Dev couldn’t wait with any but held breath.
“Why do youkissother women?”
She wanted to say more, that was clear, but she’d said enough with the aloudkiss—and implied yet more beneath her words.
Dev cocked his head. “Do you imagine me some sort of—what?—noble celibate?”
She blinked.
“Sir Lancelot, I’m not, I can assure you, Beatrix. I think you’re fully aware of that by now.”
Her mouth parted slightly and looked as if it wanted to gape open. She snapped it shut. Then opened it again. “Do you want to hear what I think?”
If he was being honest… “Maybe…” Or… “Possibly not…” But actually… “Yes.”
The fact was he wanted to hear what she thought—irritatingly.
“How you think of the countess…”
“Imogen.”
“What she represents to you is…” She looked as if she’d decided to leave the sentence unfinished. Then she said, “A fantasy.”
Dev might have to rethink the parameters of this friendship. “How Ifeelabout Imogen is real.”
Beatrix considered him for the space of three uncomfortable heartbeats, then gave a noncommittal shrug—and let the matter drop.
“It’s getting late.” It couldn’t have been later than half eight. “I’ll walk you to your rooms.”
“I can see myself there.” She turned on her heel. Apparently, she was as eager to be rid of him, as she tossed over her shoulder, “I bid you good night.”
And he was content to let her have her way.
After a quick consult with his head groom to ensure all was ticking along smoothly in the stable, Dev made a slow journey toward the house, the night sky now bright and crisp with starshine, two women on his mind.
The one who had always been there—and the one he’d invited in.
A strange paradox had opened within him, and unlike the sky above, his mind was less clear than it had ever been.
It had to do with the kiss.
Not the first or the second, but the third.
