“Surely that is many years away, sir.”
“I am not getting any younger.” Primus inclined his head, signaling the end of the small talk. “I will not detain you. Next time, I shall expect a successful report.”
Thirteen
“Do you have plans for the evening?” Devlin asked.
Charlie braced, not because the carriage was bumping over a rough patch on its way to the Strand, but because she knew where the conversation was headed. Given all that had happened over the last two days—namely, the reappearance of Sebastian—she needed to nip things in the bud with Devlin.
The change of plans irked her. If she were honest, it wasn’t that she regretted not taking Devlin as a lover. Even before Sebastian had broken the orangery window—she’d kicked herself multiple times for neglecting to take him to task for acting like a Neanderthal—she’d known that the spark was missing with Devlin.
His kiss had been agreeable. Like the lover before him, he was attractive, pleasant, and discreet. She liked him, but she didn’t desire him.
At least, not in the way she knew she could desire a man.
Not with a feverish, all-consuming need that exploded through every cell of her body, that melted her brain, that made her feel reckless and safe and alive.
The way she’d felt with Sebastian…and, regrettably, only him.
The recognition stoked her smoldering anger.
Once again, he had upended her life. This time, not by dying, but by being inconveniently alive. And, after all this time, did he have the decency to offer an explanation for falsifying his demise?
I know you want answers. But I cannot give them to you.
It was a wonder she did not hunt him down and murder him in his sleep.
“I was going to see if you would like to have supper.”
She started, realizing that Devlin was observing her, his brow creased. Wondering, no doubt, as to the cause of the emotion she couldn’t quite conceal.
“But if you are busy, perhaps another time,” he said.
His casual tone didn’t mask the awkward tension between them. She knew she had to address it to preserve their collegial relationship. She smoothed out a wrinkle in her trousers—for the day’s mission, she was disguised as a man—and collected her thoughts. She hated that Sebastian had the power to affect her. She was no longer a naïve miss to be swept off her feet, yet he was still turning her world topsy-turvy. Making her question her choices and change her well-laid plans.
“About that.” She forced herself to focus on Devlin. “After some deliberation, I do not think we ought to pursue a relationship beyond the professional.”
“May I ask why?”
She wasn’t about to tell him—or anyone—about Sebastian. Knowing her former husband, he wasn’t going to linger anyway. He would probably stay long enough to wreak havoc before taking off to do…well, whatever it was he did. In those early years after his “death,” when she’d started digging into his past and came up with remarkably little, she’d begun to suspect that he was not the carefree lord he made himself out to be. Or not just that, anyway.
What that scoundrel does is none of my business. Whatever danger he is involved in does not concern me…although it is curious how much he knows about me. About the Angels and what we do. Should I worry that he was able to access such private information? Will he try to use what he knows about me to his advantage?
The problem was that she had no idea what Sebastian wanted. He claimed his goal was to protect her—from what she didn’t know—but having been burned to a crisp before, she wasn’t about to trust him. She would have to stay on her toes where Sebastian was concerned. She turned her attention back to Devlin, who actually deserved it.
“It has naught to do with you,” she said honestly. “I have had a…a change in circumstance. This matter requires my attention, and I cannot in good conscience start an affair knowing I have neither time nor energy to devote to it.”
“It’s not me, it’s you?” Devlin grimaced. “Interesting being on the receiving end of that line. Can’t say that I like it.”
“It is not a line, Devlin.” Sighing, she said, “Truth be told, I have grown rather fond of having you around. I should hate for anything to threaten our working relationship.”
He studied her with sharp blue eyes. “Nothing I say will change your mind?”
Obviously, he knew her well. Looking at the fellow, who possessed brains as well as looks, she felt a pulse of regret at closing this door. Yet it would not be fair to involve him in her complicated situation.
“No,” she said. “I would like, of course, for us to remain friends.”
“As you wish.”
