Page 35 of A Deal with the Devil

Because her week did not appear to be improving apace, the front windows were covered in slimy rhubarb compote and what looked like the innards of a steak-and-kidney pie. She would have loved to have blamed it on the stranger sent by Portsmouth, but she knew better. Such a wealth of bullies for her to choose from.

Kitty wrinkled her nose and muttered curses that would have made a hardened criminal blush, but did not lose her bored, placid expression. They did not deserve her reaction.

They deserved a great deal worse.

She reached for the broom tucked into the doorway. No one ever tried to steal it. It would be a nightmare to clean.

“Again?” Devil asked from behind her.

She would have liked to say that she jumped or squeaked like an adorable mouse.

She did not.

She shrieked. Then she proceeded to choke spectacularly on said shriek and finally cough out a strangled giggle. Her eyes watered in protest.

Devil merely watched her, one eyebrow raised. “Are you quite finished?”

She thumped her chest to make sure her heart still knew what to do. “You scared me.”

“Evidently.”

He was so polished, so confident. It made her want to flummox him again.

It made her want to do other things, too. A great many other things that made her toes curl just from her thinking about it. And were much more enjoyable to contemplate than the rest of her day.

Devil was clearly not overcome with manfully controlled desire for the shrieking redheaded spinster standing in what could only be described as the world’s most disgusting soup. He frowned at the mess. “How often does this happen?”

“Once a week. Twice.” She sighed. Just a little. “Often.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her or was arguing with the facts; he simply did not care for them. At all.

He gestured subtly, not even turning his head. Kitty did turn her head but could not see whom he was summoning until they were suddenly right there—two tall blond men who could only be brothers and who also resembled enormous Vikings lost on a raid, about a thousand years too late. Kitty had to crane her neck to take them all in. “Hello.”

They inclined their heads in unison. They were very polite for marauders.

“Set up shifts,” Devil ordered them. “Overnight as well.”

“Yes, Devil,” they chorused.

Kitty frowned. “What’s going on here?”

“I’ll tell you what is no longer going on—no one is tossing produce at you, rotten or otherwise.”

Kitty had read more than her fair share of poetry. Some of it romantic, much of it filthy. None of it compared to his steely, cold offense. On her behalf.

She went warm right down to her toes even as she tried not to. She had to remind herself that she was not the swooning type. “But…you don’t like me.” He probably did not need reminding of that. “I should think you would enjoy seeing me get my just deserts.”

“If anyone will be serving you just deserts, it will be me.”

Goodness.

Once again, her body interpreted his threats as delicious promises. She nearly squirmed under his hard, knowing gaze. She licked her lower lip. His eyes followed the movement, flashed.