At her narrowed gaze, Devlin held up his hands.
“All right, you win. No more talk of an affair…for now.”
“Forever,” she corrected.
“In the meantime,” he said smoothly, “I suppose we could concentrate on something else. Such as what I learned about Quinton this eve.”
She arched a brow and waited.
“When Quinton left, I headed after him, but first I had a quick rendezvous with Billie and Lindy. I told them to keep eavesdropping in the tavern in case Quinton’s cronies had any useful information to share.”
“And?”
“And I was right,” he said with satisfaction. “Before you and I headed off, Billie told me what she’d heard. Apparently, Quinton’s been leaving the pub early for the last month, and his cronies were speculating where he was off to. One of the fellows mentioned that he’d spotted Quinton with ‘a fair rose near the Strand.’ Claimed Quinton had his arms around the woman, a pretty redhead with doe-like eyes.”
“A mistress, likely.” Charlie ached for Amara. “I wonder if it was the same woman who was with him at the Rigbys’. The blonde, who was likely wearing a wig. Did Billie pick up anything else about her?”
“Just that this rose has, ahem, generous twin assets.”
Charlie cast her eyes heavenward. “Red hair, dark eyes, and a large bosom—not much to go on. But I suppose you could start by canvassing the Strand and see if anyone saw Quinton and this woman.”
“I am at your disposal. Will you be accompanying me?”
Charlie shook her head, already dreading the task ahead. “I will be apprising Amara of our discovery.”
“Right.”
“After that, I have a new client to interview, followed by social calls all afternoon.” She sighed. “This evening, I am expected to make an appearance at the Kendall Ball.”
“Bloody hell, I’d forgotten it was tonight. I’d rather have a tooth drawn.” Devlin’s antipathy matched her own. “Having seen more of Lord and Lady Kendall than I ever wished to see at the Rigbys’, how am I supposed to endure their moral rectitude?”
“With discretion,” Charlie reminded him. “You cannot let on that we were there. Doing so would compromise the case and our society.”
He slid her a look. “If I am on my best behavior tonight, will you reward me with a dance?”
She couldn’t help but smile at his roguish maneuver.
“Find me the fair rose, Devlin,” she said. “And I shall think about it.”
Seven
“Christ, yes, Lottie,” he growled. “Take my cock deeper.”
She whimpered, gripping the coverlet, digging her knees into the mattress to brace herself for her husband’s driving cock. This was the first time he’d taken her from behind, and she loved it. Loved the primal feeling of being possessed by the man she loved. His muscular hips slapped her bottom in a disciplined rhythm, the erotic sound unraveling her inhibitions.
“You’re so deep this way.” She sounded tipsy. Felt as giddy as if she’d imbibed a bottle of champagne.
“I want to be deeper. I want all of this pretty quim,” he rasped. “All of you.”
She moaned as he made good on his word, thrusting inside. So deeply she felt him at her center, so powerfully that he touched her heart. Still, he pounded into her with unrelenting force. Her desire turned into desperation, need clawing at her insides.
“I bloodylovehow wet you get,” he gritted out. “Like silk around my cock.”
At first, she’d been shocked by his bedchamber talk, but she’d grown to adore his harsh tone and filthy words. When they made love, he shed the skin of a gentleman, and she reveled in his rawness. In the realness of who he was when they were skin to skin.
Not a marquess, not a lord, but a man. Her mate.
It untethered her from her fears and insecurities, and she was free to soar toward the dazzling pleasure. She could feel how wet she was, hear the slick sounds as he sheathed his thick length inside her, stretching her to her very limits.
