“We’ve been known to travel in the same set,” King said in a smooth tone, cleverly avoiding the question.
Brandon scowled. “That isn’t what I asked, and you know it.”
King raised his glass in mock salute. “A gentleman need not tell everything he knows.”
“Damn it, King,” he bit out, vexed beyond reason at the thought of his good friend enjoying an intimate friendship with Lady Grenfell.
Touching her.
Kissing her.
Bedding her.
It shouldn’t matter to Brandon. She had already refused him. He needed a wife to soothe his grandmother’s ruffled feathers. He most certainly didn’t need a red-haired Siren who distracted him with her lush mouth and her generous breasts and the stunning fit of her walking gown and…
Stop it, damn it, he ordered his recalcitrant mind.Cease this vein of thoughts at once.
King tapped at the dimple in his chin. “It seems to me as if you are asking something more than whether dear Lottie is my friend.”
He couldn’t say why, but the phrasedear Lottieboiled his blood.
He drained the remnants of his glass. “Did you fuck her?”
King chuckled, clearly enjoying himself, the perverse bastard. “My, how crude of you. The answer isnot yet. But that isn’t to say that I don’t have designs upon her virtue.”
“She’s a widow,” Brandon snarled. “Virtue is for virgins and debutantes.”
“Yes, but it sounds so much better than saying I plan to shag her silly, doesn’t it?” King drawled.
Brandon found himself seriously considering his choice in friends. “Stay away from her.”
The words fled him, ill-advised and thoroughly witless.
Both of King’s eyebrows rose this time. “You plan to bed her yourself?”
“No,” he bit out the denial hastily. “I need a wife, not a mistress.”
And the lady had made it more than clear she only wanted to occupy the latter role rather than the former.
King choked on his wine. “A wife?”
It occurred to him that he had yet to share his unfortunate news with the other members of the Society. Pandora’s arrival had been a whirlwind, and suddenly, she had become the center of his universe.
He sighed. “Yes.”
“You?”
King’s tone was incredulous. Brandon couldn’t particularly blame his friend for his reaction.
“Me,” he confirmed with a dramatic shudder. “Perish the thought, I know. However, circumstances have recently changed.”
King stalked to the sideboard and poured the rest of theChateau Margauxinto his empty glass. “Is this somehow related to your sudden proclivity for bathing whilst fully clothed?”
He winced. “Indirectly, yes. It’s not terribly sporting of you to drink all my wine and not save even a drop for me.”
“You have the largest wine cellar of anyone I know,” King pointed out.
Brandon shrugged. “Yes, well. I don’t suppose you brought any of your particular potions along with you?”
