“Do call me Tessa. All my friends do.”
Touched by the lady’s unexpected warmth, she smiled back. “And I’m Maggie.”
“Capital. Now that we are friends, Maggie,” the lady said brightly, “I’m having a ball in three days. Will you come?”
Later that night, Harry found his wife sitting in front of the vanity. She was dressed in a peach peignoir, her maid brushing out her long, glossy black tresses. He was a scientist not a poet, but to him she resembled a faerie creature, robed in petals and dew.
Dismissing her maid, he placed his hands on her shoulders, savoring her shiver of awareness. His loins heated beneath his dressing gown. His wife never failed to stir him up—in more ways than one.
“What are you up to, sprite?” he murmured.
“I’m just getting ready for bed, darling.” In the mirror, Tessa’s beautiful jade eyes were wide and incredibly innocent.
He knew her too well. His pretty little wife had a diabolic mind. “I mean with regards to Ransom. Why are you helping that bastard?”
“He’s not a bad sort.”
“He’s a conscienceless rake,” Harry said flatly. “After everything that he did—”
“Nothing happened, really. You saved me in time.”
“Seeing you dangling from that window shaved years off my life.” He didn’t like to even think of that time when he’d almost lost her. Tessa, his love and his wife. His entire bloody world.
“I hope not.” Turning around on the bench, she smiled up at him. “Because I want nothing more than to grow old with you, my love.”
How the devil was he supposed to resist her?
Instead of continuing his lecture, he swept her into his arms and took her to their bed. Their passion had only grown more intense during the months of their marriage, and tonight was no exception. Harry loved watching his wife climax, her expressive face showing every bit of what she was feeling. Thus, he made sure she went over…three times, by his reckoning.
He, himself, was no slouch. He’d blown his seed twice, needing no recovery in between. That was Tessa’s effect on him.
When they were done, he cuddled her against him. His hand rested possessively over her belly, only now beginning to swell with their babe.
“Love?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
Good, she sounded sleepy. In this state, she was more prone to tell him what she was scheming. Tessa’s mind was more complex than the scientific problems he worked on as a member of the Royal Society. And more dangerous than the blasting devices that were his expertise.
“Why are you helping Ransom?” he asked.
She snuggled against his chest. “Oh, Harry. You’re not jealous, are you?”
“Of course not.” He was jealous of anyone who looked at her. “But I don’t understand why you wouldn’t abandon him to his justified fate.”
“Seventy-five thousand pounds?”
“We don’t need the money.”
“I feel sorry for him?”
He snorted. “Your tenet is an eye for an eye.”
“You know me too well.” She sighed. “What if I told you this isn’t about Ransom?”
“Go on.”
“You know that, after the attacks on Grandpapa, things have been unsettled in the underworld.”
