A Wicked Wager by Adele Clee

Author:Adele Clee
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: 0
Published: 2018-09-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Are you certain you’re feeling well?” Devlin put down his cutlery and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “You’ve hardly eaten anything this evening. Are you worried about my impending confrontation with Biggs?”

“Partly.” A myriad of thoughts flitted about in Juliet’s head. Their lack of success in finding any letters from Hannah proved frustrating. And while she had every confidence her husband possessed the strength and ability to tackle a rogue like Mr Biggs, it took one mistake, one random shot with a pistol to end a man’s life.

The tension in the air was palpable.

She was at fault.

Disappointment hung like a lead weight in her chest, dragging her down. She was not naive enough to think Devlin Drake had married her for her wit or beauty. He had married her to prove a point to her father, and because she had the integrity Hannah lacked. Oh, one could not deny desire had sprung to life from practically nowhere, but it hurt to hear that his only motive was to use her as a source of information.

But when one married for the wrong reasons what else could one expect?

Another man might have punished her, abused her to get what he wanted. For all his faults, Devlin acted like a caring husband which only confused matters all the more.

“How many times must I tell you?” Devlin reached across the table and touched her arm. “Four men would struggle to take me down. One flick to the throat is all it takes to render Biggs helpless.”

For a man of Devlin Drake’s size, it was easy to imagine him in the midst of a violent brawl. Only last night, she had run her hands over hard, bulging muscle, excited by the raw power contained beneath his bronzed skin. She had witnessed the darkness in his eyes, felt the angry undercurrent that invaded his aura, which made him a man to fear.

“I know how conniving my father can be when he wants something,” she said, staring at the asparagus spears on her plate. “Based on his actions so far, I cannot help but think this amounts to more than a few malicious comments written in a note.”

Devlin fell silent for a moment. He sipped his wine though his dark eyes remained trained on her over the rim of his glass.

“And correct me if I’m wrong,” he began, “but I suspect your solemn mood stems from more than our failure to find the letters.”

Juliet daren’t look at him. She was not one who sought pity and had tried to pretend that learning of his motive for marriage hadn’t changed things somehow.

“Juliet.” Devlin’s rich voice caressed her.

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

“Must I?”

“Unless you want me to straddle your lap at the dining table.”

She glanced at the footmen who held their stone-like expressions.

“I would consider that unwise unless you want to break the chair legs. I doubt either of us wishes to end up in a heap on the floor.”

“It did not seem to bother you last night.”

The comment brought the memories of their passionate encounter flooding back.

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