She brightened. “Exactly! You are extremely intelligent, Devon. When you’re not so thickheaded.”
She pushed up to sit against the simple wood headboard, and he pushed to his feet. She wiggled over until there was room enough on the bed, and he joined her.
“I’m tired,” he said. “I thought to give you a kiss and then join you. I did not intend to wake you. My apologies, madam.”
He slunk down until his head lay on the pillow, and he poked her hip with his index finger until she did the same. She rolled onto her side to face him, but he gently pressed her shoulder in the other direction until she faced away from him.
“That’s better.” He moved to his side and wrapped his arms around her, outlining her body with his own. His hand brushed lazy strokes up and down her side, over ribs and hips and back up again.
She purred, and the small involuntary reaction made every muscle in his body tighten. He did not stroke back down her body but cupped her breast through her thin muslin gown. He slowly swiped his thumb back and forth until her nipple pebbled, and her back arched, lightly pressing her rear against him.
Where was his exhaustion now? Where it always went when Lillian was in his arms. He did not know where exactly. He only knew she gave him energy enough to give her pleasure. Every damn time. He kissed her neck, and she turned in his embrace, her fingers threading around his neck, her face lifting to his.
She sighed a contented sigh and grinned a dreamy grin, then said, quite firmly, “Stop it.”
He blinked “Stop it?”
She nodded and put her hand flat on his chest. Not a caress. “We never talk because we always dothis. You come home late, sneak into our bed, and kiss me senseless. I will not be senseless right now because I need to tell you something. It is why I am here. I realized that if you would not come to me, I would have to find you.”
“Has something happened? Are you well?”
“As well as I can be, considering.”
Considering? Surely it was too early to have conceived a child. Best to be sure, though. “Considering what?”
“The rumors. New ones.”
“Bloody hell.” He rolled onto his back, arms falling numb to his sides. “What are they saying now?”
“It seems you were”—she cleared her throat—“spotted.”
“Spotted? Where?”
“At the docks, loading and unloading.” She rolled onto her back as well, her arms falling to the side to mimic his own imitation of a corpse. “By someone important? Perhaps. I'm not entirely sure. The someone is someone else’s cousin and another someone important’s intended. Lord Littleton would not tell me exactly what it is everyone thinks you were doing there, only that there are claims ofdeviancy.”
He managed a chuckle. “Do they think I’m a smuggler? A pirate?” Wait. He turned to study her profile, his eyes narrowing. “What is Littleton doing with you?”
Her eyes darted toward him, but she did not move a muscle. “He approached me last night to tell me what others are saying, a task he did not satisfactorily accomplish.”
He could hear a clearhmphin her voice, though she kept it behind pursed lips.
When he’d found Lillian in his room and joined her on his bed, everything had seemed right, especially when she arched against him. But thenthis?
“What do you expect me to do?” he asked.
She did not respond, but her foot tapped against the air at the end of the bed.
“I’m doing naught at the docks, except earning a few shillings.” He ripped the coins from his pocket and threw them into the slim space between their bodies.
Her foot froze. She sat up and gathered the coins in her palm. “Unfortunately, that is enough to cause a scandal.”
“I don’t use my own name. I wear old clothes. A hat.”
“You were still recognized.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded to the small desk under the window. She stacked the coins neatly on it and sat in the wooden chair.
“Do you happen to know what time it is?” she asked.
“A little past noon.” What was happening in that brain of hers? Her outward show of composure gave nothing away. There had been times in the months he’d haunted her parents’ home that he’d thought her putting on a charade for the benefit of thetonjust an act of being perfectly at ease and confident with who she was. He’d thought her pretending. But she was not pretending now, and her quiet, confident power drew him to her like a thirsty man to a river. He felt like he’d gone all his life without water and only she could quench his thirst. Forget coffee. Only Lillian would do.
