I must win the contract.
But if I do…
Will William’s resentment return?
Or would he be happy for me?
Could we find a way to make this work between us?
I bite my lip as a giddy lightness sweeps over me. The fluttery feeling lasts for all of a minute before it drains beneath my dawning terror. I’ve felt that bubbly excitement before. I told William about it tonight. It’s a feeling I hate. A feeling I fear. Ican’t let myself go down that road ever again. I can’t fantasize about a future William hasn’t offered. I’ve already had one offer of love revoked, so even if William did claim to want more than sex from me, can I even trust those desires will last? Sooner or later he’ll see the side of me that Dennis Feverforth saw. Some way I’ll fail to measure up to his expectations.
With a sigh, I calm my racing thoughts, my overactive imagination, and remind myself what this really is.
Research and a pleasurable escape.
That’s all it needs to be.
CHAPTER THIRTY
EDWINA
Iwake to a startled yelp from nearby. Early morning light pours through the wall of windows as I shift on the divan I slept upon and roll onto my side. After locating my spectacles beside my pillow, I visually seek the source of commotion. I locate it near the gilded hearth. Monty sprawls crookedly in one of the wingback chairs while Daphne stands frozen on all fours upon his chest, her curved back arched even higher than it usually is.
With another yelp, she leaps off his chest onto the floor. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Monty frowns, eyelids heavy. He rubs his temples, and I catch signs of cuts and bruises on his knuckles. Just what did he get up to last night? With a yawn, he says, “What were you thinking it looks like, Daph?”
She skitters back a few steps. Her normally even voice is pitched high. “We slept together!”
Monty snorts a laugh, straightening in his chair with a stretch. He’s still fully clothed, though his waistcoat is open, as is his collar. “You fell asleep on my chest. That’s not the same thing as sleeping together.”
“We spent the night on the same piece of furniture with our bodies touching,” she says. “This is humiliating.”
“You do know how sleeping together in the carnal sense works, right?”
“Of course I know how it works. I’m centuries older than you. I’ve been through more mating seasons than you’ve been alive.”
I’m surprised to hear about her age. She’s centuries old after all. Pushing back my borrowed blankets, I swing my legs over the side of the divan and rise to my feet. As embarrassing as this moment must be for Daphne, maybe she’d feel better if I acted as a mediator. Though her reaction is rather amusing, I can at least relate to her embarrassment. I’ve been there, after all, when I woke up with William in my room. I could at least stand beside her and voice my support. Or remind them that they aren’t alone and might wake up Zane and William, the former of whom dozes in their bed while the latter is nestled on a couch in a quiet corner of the apartment.
I cross the floor toward the bickering pair. The onyx floors are chilly beneath my bare feet, and I tug my robe tighter around my chemise.
“I’m not talking about unseelie mating,” Monty says. “I’m talking about sex.”
“I know about seelie sex,” Daphne hisses back. “I read books.”
He levels a wry look at her. “Well, you must also know I have a type. Four legs and furry isn’t it.”
Daphne gasps, visibly shrinking back as if his words struck her like a blow. When she speaks next, her voice is small, quavering. “I’m not some pet, Monty. I’m a person.”
I halt in place. The hurt in her tone is so palpable it makes my chest ache. While Daphne’s humiliation seemed silly—albeit relatable—at first, a deeper layer of comprehension dawns. This isn’t about Daphne misunderstanding sex. It’s that she sees Monty as more than her colleague. More than just another human. She sees him as a man. She’s aware of him in the way I’m aware of William. Meanwhile, Monty only sees her as a pine marten. He dismissed her asnot his typewithout considering he only knows one side of her. Her unseelie side.
Monty’s expression falls, as if he realizes it too. His tone takes on a gentler quality. “No, of course you’re a person. I know that.”
“I have another body.”
“I’m sure you do.” Tenderness washes over his face, and for the briefest moment I think Monty might recover from his blunder all on his own. He opens his mouth but seems to think better about whatever he was going to say. The softness leaves his face, replaced with a cold, taunting smirk. He shifts in his chair, taking on a lazy posture. “You’re making too big a deal out of this, Daffy. We didn’t sleep together in any way that counts. It meant nothing.”
A long stretch of silence follows. Finally, Daphne bites out, “You’re an ass.” She scampers away and out of sight faster than I can react.
