“Of course not. It was lovely.” She nipped at his finger.
His eyes gleamed down at her. “Is your curiosity satisfied then, little tigress?”
She thought about it. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?” He lifted his brows. “What else have you fantasized about?”
She bit her lip, wondering if she could possibly say it aloud.
“You can tell me anything,” he prompted.
“You know how you enjoyed having me, um, come when you were kissing me intimately? Well, does it work the same way—”
The rest of her question was smothered by Wei’s hungry kiss.
Thirty-Four
Two days later, Wei sat across from Susanna Swann in her carriage, heading north out of London. When he and Glory had left the shop, Mrs. Swann had said she would be in touch, and he’d heard nothing from her until she showed up out of the blue at the clinic this morning.
“If you wish to find Kray, come with me,” she’d said.
Wei’s immediate thought had been of Glory. He knew she was helping her parents host a luncheon today. She had worked hard planning the event—been on pins and needles about making it a success. Not wishing to distract her from her familial duty, Wei had dashed off a note explaining where he’d gone but instructed Yao not to deliver it until after the luncheon.
Yao had wanted to accompany Wei.
Eyeing Mrs. Swann, he’d said in their native language, “I don’t trust this woman. She looks like trouble.”
“Mr. Chen comes alone.” Mrs. Swann had replied as if she’d understood Chinese, but Wei suspected she was just good at reading people. “He has nothing to fear from Kray.”
As the carriage bumped along the muddy country road, Wei brooded over what she’d meant. Why is Kray not a threat? Is he incapacitated in some way? At any rate, if anyone had cause to be afraid, it was Kray. Wei curled his hands as he contemplated taking his vengeance. He’d wanted this for so long, yet as he was about to achieve his goal, he felt a strange lack of anticipation. Instead, he was plagued by uncertainty.
Years ago, he’d served justice to Governor Li without blinking an eye. He hadn’t cared about the consequences. If Li’s crooked officials had caught him, he’d have been put to death, but it would have been worth it because revenge had been the only thing that mattered. Yet now things were different…because of Glory.
Because of her, Wei had love and hope and happiness to look forward to.
Images flitted through his head of what their married life might be like. By day, they would practice kung fu and run the clinic together. By night, they would make love, and he would indulge her every carnal curiosity…especially the one she’d expressed at Mrs. Swann’s. If she wished to continue with her Society of Angels work—and he did not doubt that she would—he would support her in that too.
And if fortune smiled upon them, he saw their clinic overrun with children. Imps who would inherit Glory’s beauty and goodness and spirit. Who would smile at him with her dimples and pester him with countless questions and make him so very glad to be alive.
At the same time, he felt guilty for hesitating to end Kray for the sake of this dream. If he put his love for Glory first, he was letting down his family again. Failing to honor his vow to them.
“Thinking about your lovely dove, Mr. Chen?” Mrs. Swann drawled. “After your performance two nights ago, one would think you’d had your fill. But I cannot blame you. It is rare to find a lady with Miss Cavendish’s freshness and sensual nature.”
The anger that smoldered in Wei’s chest was a welcome distraction from his inner turmoil. Although he could never regret making love to Glory, he resented having their privacy violated by the smirking bitch across from him.
“You will leave her out of this,” he said tersely. “How much longer until we get to Kray?”
“All in good time.”
Propping her chin on her hand, Mrs. Swann regarded him with a piercing gaze. Today, she’d forgone the face paint and wore a modest grey dress. With her black ringlets tucked under a lace-trimmed cap, she looked surprisingly respectable.
Which proves that looks can deceive.
“From your impressively extended pleasuring of our little Miss Cavendish,” she said, “I would have taken you for a more patient fellow.”
“She is not our Miss Cavendish.” The bloody woman wasn’t fit to utter Glory’s name. “She’s mine, and you will stop bandying her name about.”
“My, my. Protective, aren’t we? One cannot blame you for staking your claim.” Mrs. Swann’s ringlets swung with mock sympathy. “A duke’s daughter, and such a pretty one at that, must be in high demand. I cannot imagine that the Duke of Ranelagh and Somerville will find you a suitable son-in-law.”
