Chapter 25

“Wake up, my lord. My lord! ”

Fast pulled Lorelei closer. “It’s not time yet, love,” he mumbled.

“Lord Severn!” a distinctly masculine voice hissed in his ear.

Fast’s eyes flew open. “What the dev—”

Gregg leaned over him and laid a finger over his lips. “Miss Fontenot,” he whispered.

Fast blinked and then nodded, suddenly wide awake. And wondering what the fuck Gregg thought he was doing barging into his bedchamber.

The other man must have seen the anger in his eyes. “I didn’t see anything,” he promised quietly, backing away from the bed.

Fast scowled, checked to see if Lorelei was fully covered—she was, the sheets pulled up to her chin—and carefully extricated himself.

He quickly pulled on his breeches and followed Gregg from the room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet snick before saying. “What could be so important that you couldn’t wait until morning?”

Gregg took a deep breath and said in a rush, “The Blue Devil is here. Jensen is dead, my lord.”

Fast sagged against the door. “Good God! When? How?”

“Evidently somebody murdered him not long after we dropped him off in Majorca.”

“Christ! The letter?”

Gregg shook his head. “The woman who operated the boarding house where Jensen lived packed up his possessions and gave them to Captain Evans when he came to collect Jensen for the journey home. I’ve already gone through everything, sir, there is nothing.”

Fast shook his head. “So…Garcia didn’t have it, and it wasn’t in Jensen’s belongings. And—if Moreland’s brute Carey is to be believed—Moreland doesn’t have it, either.”

“Maybe there was no confession?” Gregg suggested.

Fast had considered that, too. “Well, that doesn’t much matter any longer. Without Jensen, the confession would lack conviction. “I wonder if Moreland knows that Jensen is dead,” he mused, his mind speedily waking up.

“I can’t imagine how,” Gregg said. “If Garcia—or somebody he was working with—killed him then the last thing he would have wanted to do was tell Moreland about it.”

“I agree. Let’s send him a letter. If he knows Jensen is dead, then it can’t make matters worse. But if he doesn’t know, we might be able to lure him out.”

Gregg nodded. “What do you want me to write?”

“Say that Jensen just arrived in London and has the confession in his possession. And that he was supposed to sell it to me, but that he has changed his mind because Moreland has his sister.”

“I’ll do it right away,” Gregg said. “Anything else?”

Fast shook his head. “No. If we are fortunate, Moreland will take the bait and produce the girl.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Gregg asked.

Fast met his friend’s concerned gaze and smiled grimly. “Don’t borrow trouble, Gregg. We’ve got plenty of that already.”

***

Lori drifted in the shallows between sleep and wakefulness, her body humming in a way that was becoming pleasurably familiar to her.

If she opened her eyes, it would stop—she just knew it would.

But when she reached down to rub herself harder and encourage more of those feelings her knuckles encountered something hard.

“Ow!” a muffled voice muttered, yanking her from her dozy state.

Broad shoulders pressed against her inner thighs, warm, strong finger stroked the intimate folds between her legs, and a hot, insistent mouth sucked and licked.

Her lips curled into a smile when she realized she’d not been dreaming at all. She carded her fingers through his messy hair and ground herself against his mouth, focusing his tongue exactly where she needed it.

Rather than be annoyed at her rough, demanding usage, he chuckled and slid a finger inside her, pumping her with hard, deep strokes as his wicked mouth worked its magic.

Lori’s hips began to jerk and then buck as the most powerful orgasm she’d yet experienced gripped her in its punishing fist.

She was lost for a time, only vaguely aware of his tender kisses and gentle stroking. As she came down from the ecstatic heights he crawled up her body, until his messy head emerged from beneath the covers.

“Good morning, my delicious lover,” he murmured, kissing her with lips that were swollen and slick and tasted salty and musky. Of her .

He chuckled, once again reading her mind with an ease that was disconcerting. “You taste good, don’t you?”

“Not as good as you,” she retorted, and then bit her lip, shocked at her own words.

“Mmmm,” he rumbled. “I’m so glad you feel that way.” His hips thrust lazily against her thigh, the hard length of him making her shiver.

Lori opened her legs in silent invitation.

He paused his sensuous frottage and arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not too sore?”

“I wasn’t a maiden, you know.”

“I know.” He smirked, easily moving up her body. “But then you’ve never encountered a… specimen as huge and impressive as mine before, have you?”

Lori laughed. “Oh dear. I can see it was a mistake to say such a thing aloud. You’re going to get a big head, aren’t you?”

“I’ve already got one,” he murmured, pressing the blunt head of his erection against her opening.

They both laughed.

“That was terrible. I’m sorry,” he said, “I just couldn’t resist.” He kissed her jaw and then lightly bit the spot and kissed it again. “I can’t resist you, either,” he growled.

She did feel an unpleasant stretch when he breached her, but it was superseded by the bliss of having him inside her again. Once more, she couldn’t help comparing her experience with Dorian with the way she felt with Fast.

“Such a wet, tight pussy,” he murmured, and then chuckled when his wicked words made her clench her inner muscles. “Touch me, lover,” he said, his thrusts easy and slow.

Lori eagerly complied, massaging the compact muscles that she’d surreptitiously stroked last night.

“Ah, God,” he groaned, his tight bottom bunching and flexing. “That feels so good. Harder—you can’t hurt me.”

Lori dug her fingers into the taut flesh.

“Yessss,” he hissed. “So good—so perfect.” His strokes became rougher, less controlled, and the massive bed jolted with the power of his thrusts. “I don’t want to come, but you’re going to make me— Lorelei !” His body went rigid just before he withdrew from her.

This time Lori was paying attention and watched as he spent. He gave himself only a few brutal jerks and then his head dropped back as ribbon after ribbon jetted from the tiny slit, the muscles of his chest and abdomen so defined that she could see the individual striations with every spasm and thrust.

Once there was nothing left, he did as he’d done the night before and collapsed with an exhausted groan. This time, her arms slid around him without hesitation, and she held him tight to her body.

Lori must have fallen asleep because the next time she opened her eyes she was alone in the bed and the light coming through the window was bright yellow rather than the weak gray light of dawn.

She yawned and stretched, a smile stretching her mouth as she remembered last night and the words he’d spoken.

He loves me .

No. He’s falling in love with you , the pedantic voice in her head corrected.

For once, Lori could laugh at the chiding voice. So what if he’d said falling ? It was enough that he’d given voice to the feelings that had been swirling around inside her for weeks.

Lori sat up and swung her feet off the bed before noticing her uncharacteristic nudity. And then she recalled why she was without a stitch of clothing that morning and smiled.

Still smiling, she glanced to the end of the bed, where she usually kept her dressing gown. Only then did she recall that she was not in her gaudy black bedchamber, but Fast’s gaudy red one.

Instead of a robe on the footboard bench there were two familiar pale pink boxes tied with silver ribbon. She stared uncomprehendingly for a long moment.

And then the truth came to her in a rush: It had been Fast who’d bought her gowns and jewels. Lori had never once considered him. But then why would she have suspected him?

His words from last night came back to her: I think I’m falling in love with you . Just how long had that been going on?

And why had he purchased dresses for her? Because her clothing was so dismal?

She felt a stab of disappointment but quashed it; why should that upset her? It was certainly true. Her dreadful taste when it came to sartorial matters had always been a source of amusement among her friends. There was no denying that the gowns Fast had chosen suited her perfectly. How could such gifts be insulting?

Lori pushed aside her unease as well as the bedclothes. She found her garments in a neatly folded pile on one of the chairs and slipped her chemise over her head before slowly going toward the boxes, as if she were approaching a dangerous animal rather than luxurious gifts.

But then wasn’t what was in the box dangerous—the expensive gowns and valuable jewels, both items a wealthy man gave a mistress—and her hand hesitated on the lid of the top box.

So, that is what you are, isn’t it ?

Lori yanked her hand back from the boxes when she heard the door open. She turned, expecting to find one of the maids with her breakfast.

But it was Fast. “Ah! You’re awake,” he said, hitching the door shut with his foot as his hands were occupied carrying a tray that was twice as big as usual. “I was hoping to catch you still abed,” he added, setting down the tray. His smile grew bigger when he saw what she’d been looking at. “Oh, good. I wanted to watch you open them.”

“You gave me those other gifts.”

His smile faltered at her accusatory tone. “Yes.”

“Why?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why did you think I needed new gowns and expensive jewels?”

His lips parted and, for the first time since she’d met him, he looked uncertain. “I gave them to you because I wanted to. And because I thought you’d look lovely in them.”

“Because I didn’t look lovely enough in my usual clothing?” she asked, wishing that her tone had not turned quite so shrewish.

“I believe I said before that you would look beautiful in sackcloth, Lorelei.” The furrows in his brow deepened. “Are you angry with me for giving you gifts?”

Was she?

“Or are you angry that you didn’t discover who’d given them to you?”

She opened her mouth to deny that, but then paused, her eyes on his face. He’d looked so happy—joyous, even—when he’d come into the room. And now he looked shuttered, wary, and—yes—hurt.

And all because he made the mistake of being generous to you.

Lori drew in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, bewildered and annoyed by the emotional whirl in her head. “I am not angry.”

“But you’re not happy, either.”

“I’m… concerned.”

“Concerned that I gave you some gifts?

She nodded.

“Why?”

“I’m…not sure,” she admitted. “It is only that giving gifts—especially items like clothing and jewelry—is something a man does with his mistress.”

He folded his massive arms over his chest and his frown turned into a scowl. “I thought I made my feelings for you clear last night, Lorelei.”

I think I’m beginning to fall in love with you.

Lori bit her lip, suddenly seeing her behavior from his point of view. She had assured him on their first night together that she understood what this— their affair—meant: that it was nothing more than temporary physical gratification.

She had also assured him—repeatedly and emphatically—that she had no other expectations of him, certainly not marriage!

He had not lied to her, not like Dorian had done at first, when he had sought to seduce her. All along Fast had been open and honest. And now she was accusing him of treating her like a mistress when that was exactly what she was.

You are furious at him because you want more .

She was. And her behavior—her desire for something more permanent—mortified her.

Lori forced herself to meet his gaze, hating the reserve that had entered his icy eyes. Eyes that had been warm only moments earlier.

And it was her fault for treating him as if he were Dorian.

He deserved better.

Lori took a step toward him. And then another, until she was standing close enough to touch him. That short walk was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

“I’m sorry, Fast.”