And he had Beatrix to thank.
A clever woman was Lady Beatrix St. Vincent.
A clever woman who wanted to waste herself on a good, solid future.
He gave his head a bemused shake.
There was no accounting for wants and desires.
And just as he didn’t understand hers, she didn’t understand his.
Fair play.
He gathered his markers and began making his way toward the exit when a figure flashed at the edge of his vision. It would’ve been unremarkable, except…
It was a feminine figure—in an all-male establishment.
Which incited a boisterous buzz that washed through the club with the suddenness of a tsunami wave.
Recognition stirred as he pivoted—and there came confirmation.
Lady Beatrix St. Vincent…
Here.
At The Archangel.
Striding through the club like a Fury.
And she wasn’t simply any woman causing a scene.
In the eyes of all in this room, this Fury was his fiancée.
Right.
Of their own accord, his feet were already in motion, alarm firing through him.
He reached the study in time to hear her call out—and for the benefit of no fewer than ten sets of ears, “Jagger, you and I have business.”
Jagger had been conferring with the club’s doorman, his back to her, but slowly, he turned, a single eyebrow lifted, his entire being glittering with arrogance. “Do we now, Lady Beatrix?” The smile curving his mouth was not unlike a tiger’s as it held a mouse squirming beneath its paw. “And what business is that, pray tell?”
Dev doubted the ten sets of ears populating the room had ever listened so hard in all their lives.
Before Beatrix could respond with the answer ready on her lips, Dev was across the room and threading his hand through the crook of her arm. Startled gray eyes rounded on him. The next instant, they were shooting daggers.
He cared not.
The woman had already caused more than a minor sensation.
He had a scandal to avert.
“Let’s take this conversation upstairs, shall we?” He kept his tone breezy and absent of heat. They could’ve been discussing the weather.
The arrogant glint in Jagger’s eye didn’t falter. “I’m content with the good lady having her say here.”
“As am I,” agreed Beatrix.
As were all The Archangel’s patrons.
