Page 58 of So Wild A Heart

“Damn,” he muttered softly, glaring at his left hand. “You are a dead loss. A hundred and fifty yellow-boys behind already.”

“Talking to yourself?” Miranda asked lightly, stepping into the room.

Devin glanced up, startled. “Miranda! What are you doing here?”

The sight of her standing there pierced him with a fresh, fierce lust. She wore a dressing gown, with the neck of her nightgown peeking above the lapels, white and softly feminine. Her hair was brushed out and lay tumbling down across her shoulders, long and silky, inviting his touch. He wanted her with a passion as hot as any he could remember.

“I just came down to the library to get a book,” Miranda replied. “I saw your light was on, so I thought I would see what you were doing.”

“Tossing one hand against the other. The left hand has abysmal luck.” The way his eyes ran down her made Miranda suddenly aware of the fact that she wore only a dressing gown over her nightrail, a flimsy thing that the modiste in London had made for her honeymoon. “You are up late.”

“Not so late. Everyone retired early, after the vicar and his wife left. The doctor, too, of course.”

“I am sure you were reluctant to see the doctor go,” Devin said sarcastically, downing the last of his drink and immediately reaching out to pour another one.

Miranda watched him pour. His hand was a trifle unsteady.

“Have you been sitting here drinking all this time?” she asked.

Devin shrugged. “More or less.”

“Why? Why did you leave the party?”

“The party? Is that what you would call it? Seemed about as lively as an interment to me. Of course, I was not privy to the good doctor’s fascinating conversation.”

Miranda stared at him in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

“The doctor. I didn’t have the pleasure of talking to him all evening as you did.”

“It was scarcely a pleasure,” Miranda began, ready to vent her true feelings, but Devin’s next words stopped her.

“It certainly seemed as if it was a pleasure.” He looked at her, a fierce bright anger burning clearly in his eyes. “You were hanging on every word he said.”

Miranda’s brows vaulted upward, but she said nothing to contradict him. Devin sounded jealous, and she found the idea not at all displeasing.

“He was telling me about his cases,” she said, carefully telling the truth.

“Was that it? I thought perhaps you were making an assignation.”

“What? Now, really, Dev, that is going too far.”

“Oh, I don’t think I have gone nearly far enough,” Devin said in a silky voice that was somehow frightening. He rose slowly and leaned forward across his desk, bracing himself with his fists. “Tell me, is he to be your first fling? I must say, I would think the local doctor a trifle too close to home. Wouldn’t you?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Miranda returned truthfully.

“Is he what you like, Miranda?” he went on in the same quiet, deadly voice. He pushed his chair back and came out from behind his desk. “A sober, industrious citizen? Someone who can fascinate you with tales of his good deeds?”

“He does spend his days in more fruitful pursuits than drinking and casting dice,” Miranda retorted with some asperity. His closeness made her a little breathless, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.

Devin chuckled without humor, “Ah, my dear wife. So you have chosen him for your first foray outside the marriage. Well, good luck with him. I’ll lay you odds that he is as dull a stick in bed as he is out of it.”

“Indeed? Well, I suppose I shall find out, won’t I?”

His hand lashed out and grasped her arm, digging in painfully. “No, you won’t, my lady!”

“I beg your pardon? Are you telling me who I can and cannot see?”

“I am telling you that you will not bed down with that lump of a fellow right in front of me.” His eyes flashed, bright green in their fury. “I will not be made a mockery of, madam. You may think you call the tune because of your fat purse, but I can tell you, you will not do this.”