Adele hammered at him as he swept her back into his arms. Too late. She was caught now.
"I wouldn't waste the bullet!" She couldn't resist trying to escape. She was so damned angry. "You lied to me."
"I wasn't certain if you were working for the enemy," Malloryn finally snapped. He turned her toward him and Adele kicked him, stubbing her toe against his shin.
"Me? Working for your enemy? What did you think I was? Some kind of spy?"
An icy, impenetrable look came over his face. "I—"
She couldn't help herself. She laughed right in his face. "Then I'm not the only idiot here, it seems. Perhaps you were too clever for yourself? How does that feel, Malloryn? Talking yourself around in bloody circles every time you meet someone? Questioning their loyalty. Standing there alone—"
"That's enough." She'd scored a point though.
"Is it?"
"I think," he stated, "that I don't know half of what goes on in that pretty little head of yours. You decimated Lord Abagnale when he tried for your hand. You had me bound at the altar before I could even blink. You set up a black market trade among the debutantes of the Echelon, running hemlock rings to them beneath the noses of suspicious mamas and blue blood lords everywhere—"
"So it makes sense I would be working for the very men I despise?" Adele countered. "The elite lords of the Echelon who want to take the world back to the days when they ruled it and the rest of us were just prey?"
Malloryn froze.
"I don't think you were thinking at all," she taunted, wriggling furiously. "Let me go."
"No."
Adele struggled harder. "Let. Me. Go."
"No."
"I see the barbarian has managed to stake its claim on you!"
"That's enough."
Adele fought to free herself.
"I said, that's enough." He slammed her back against the wall, breathing hard as he captured her wrists above her head and pinned her there.
There was no way to escape. He was stronger than her. Faster. His temper thoroughly roused. The pair of them glared at each other.
"You are a fool, Your Grace."
His eyes narrowed even further, which somehow seemed impossible, but he was clearly thinking again. "You wanted a child."
There was no way in hell she was admitting any of those thoughts to him. "What I want is for you to get your hands off me, right this instant."
"Yes, but we don't always get what we want, do we, Adele? Now what?" he taunted. "Are you going to hemlock me too?"
"I only had one dose."
"Poor Herbert." His lips kicked up.
"Poor Herbert, my foot."
There was only one weapon left to engage. She meant to escape, but it was clear her husband overpowered her physically. Which left only her mind. And—
Adele kissed him.
There was a moment of frozen shock as Malloryn absorbed the action without responding. For a second she thought he was going to reject her, that it had all been one stupid game to put her in her place, and make a fool out of her—
And then he threw himself into the abrupt change in dynamics, his mouth capturing hers with a hungry snarl.
It was a kiss to put all others in their place. A kiss with no design, beyond a statement: You are mine. A clash of tongues and teeth, and hard, heated hands that forced her to yield. But yielding was not in her nature, and she bit his lip as if to warn him she would not be conquered. Not by him. Not by this.
A growled—utterly un-Malloryn—sound escaped him, and then he slid one hand under her bottom and hauled her against him, his hips pressing into the warm juncture of her thighs.
His tongue delved deeper, caressing hers.
And she met each stroke with her own unabashed response, unleashing all her fury and hurt in each breathless kiss. Taking what she wanted, damn him.
Malloryn's hips ground against hers, his erection lining up right between her thighs. Right there. He thrust against her in an almost mindless simulation of the physical act of consummation.
It set every inch of her on fire, until Adele was grinding against him, her hands sliding through the dark coppery strands of his hair, fisting there and mashing her mouth against hers.
She wanted to climb inside his skin. To drink down every last inch of him. To consume him. She wanted to throw all caution to the wind and pretend none of the lies mattered. Suddenly there were too many clothes between them. Too many barriers.
But the most insubstantial was the one around her heart.
For if she were being honest with herself, it wasn't just the thought of a child that had begun to lure her into her husband's arms.
And it hurt, because some part of herself had began to feel something for him and—
Adele tore her face to the side, away from his dangerous mouth.
Away from those tempting thoughts that beckoned her down a dark road that only ended in heartbreak.
Both of them were panting. Trapped against each other. Tangled by way of flesh and clothing.
"Look at me," he whispered.
No.
"Adele." A soft word. A word that pierced her through and through. "Adele, look at me." She was almost strong enough to deny him, until he added, "Please."
She looked. Heaven help her, but she looked.
And enough of the mask had slipped for her to see a faint, unguarded glint in her husband's eyes. One that showed her he wasn't quite as certain as he seemed.
They stayed there for long moments, and she realized his chest was heaving, almost as much as hers was.
"Are you happy now you've destroyed the order in my study?"
No. She wouldn't be happy until she'd destroyed the order in his heart. Her gaze slid over his shoulder, then back to him. "The desk still looks untouched."
A heartbeat.
Then a devilish smile that made her stomach drop almost to her feet.
"We could fix that," he purred as he leaned closer and rubbed his cheek along hers, his whisper a caress against her ear. "Lady's choice, of course."
A thrill ran through her.
Adele closed her eyes.
She wasn't seriously thinking about this, was she? He'd lied to her and tricked her. But it was all out in the open now, and as he rocked against her, she felt the insistent press of his erection.