"Too much?" he murmured as he withdrew his hand.
Adele buried her face in his shoulder as her husband rested atop her. She couldn't look at him. She could barely move, a shudder tearing through her as her heart pounded.
How on earth was she to ever look him in the eye again?
"How many diamonds were there?" The self-satisfied purr in his voice made her want to commit bodily violence.
"So many I thought they were stars," she replied hoarsely.
And he laughed, as if her refusal to capitulate—even now—tore amusement from him. "Those weren't the diamonds, Adele."
"You don't know that."
Malloryn continued laughing even as he tugged her skirts down. Not a single lock of hair was out of place, and as she watched he took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his fingers dry.
She buried her face in her hands.
Good gods.
How mortifying.
How... intense.
Even now, she was filled with such languorous release, she felt like she'd drunk two bottles of champagne by herself. She couldn't have moved to save herself, but luckily, she didn't have to.
"Well." Even Malloryn sounded surprised as he eased off her. "I was beginning to think my recollections of what happened between us in the Ivory Tower were remnants of the bloodlust. Or insanity."
All she could see was the looming shadow of his body as the carriage eased to a halt.
"Insanity?"
Was that her voice, so low and rough?
He shot her a dark, mesmerizing look. "Shall we not be honest for once? We can call it the effects of the bloodletting—upon both of us—but something happened that day. Something neither of us has been able to forget, no matter how much we tried."
She was destroyed. A mess. And her husband looked almost immaculate.
He swayed onto his knees, peering through the window. "Oh, how unfortunate. We seem to be home." There was a maddening twinkle in his eyes as he tugged at the sleeve of his coat, forcing it to settle perfectly against him.
"Home?"
"You appear monosyllabic, my love."
Argh.
"You took me by surprise."
"With my proposition? Or what just happened? Still thinking of diamonds? Or emeralds?" His voice was a purr of pure masculine contentment.
"An entire choker of them," she whispered, refusing to cover herself. Two could play at this game, and she hadn't missed the telltale bulge pressing insistently against her thigh. "Maybe I'll wear nothing but my diamonds when you visit my chambers. Would you like that?"
This time, it was his turn to look at her intently.
There, she wanted to crow. Take that, you arrogant ass.
"Maybe you can teach me how to beg," she whispered, and let her gaze shift lower, to where his erection trained against his trousers. "Perhaps I'd let you. Would you like to see me on my knees, Malloryn? Wearing nothing but my diamonds?"
Adele rolled upright, tugging her gown into place.
Inch by inch, he'd put himself back together, though she doubted he'd been truly undone. Her words seemed to stir some devil within him, however.
"Perhaps we can discuss this inside in more detail?" A muscle flexed in his cheek as the footman opened the door. "Tonight."
She smothered a small, victorious smile. "I shall be all aquiver."
Malloryn stared at her for a second longer, then disembarked.
"Oh, and Adele?" He paused in the middle of the carriage doorway, reaching inside his waistcoat pocket for something. "This ends. Right now."
With that, he handed her a photograph of her kissing Devoncourt.
Chapter 4
"You look particularly pleased with yourself," said a sultry woman's voice behind him.
Malloryn turned away from the window of the Company of Rogues' safe house, where he'd been idly tapping on the sill and pondering the events that had occurred in the carriage. He hadn't meant to take it so far, so swiftly, but Adele roused his temper—and his competitive instincts.
And, if he was being particularly honest with himself, his lust.
Lie back and think of England, indeed.
How on earth did she get to him so easily?
They'd spent months living in the same house, seeing each other only from a distance, and yet he could always sense her. Adele's perfume lingered in empty rooms, and everywhere he looked she was causing some sort of disruption. Even if it was just to shuffle the books in his private library, a place he'd asked her not to enter. She would move things deliberately, and at first he'd assumed it was to plague him, but now he had to wonder if she'd been looking for something.
"Should I not be?" he asked, glancing at Gemma's face. The beautiful spy was the one in charge of the Company of Rogues in his absence. "Nobody's tried to kill the queen in the past four months, London appears almost peaceful, and the Company of Rogues has been blessed with not one, but three recent marriages, with another soon to come." He feigned surprise. "In fact, it seems you and Obsidian are the only ones ruining the Rogues' almost perfect score."
"It's not cricket, Malloryn. Obsidian and I will marry when we are ready. It's not as though I have any sort of reputation to ruin, nor do either of us intend upon children." Gemma rolled her eyes and poured both of them a brandy. "And since when are you a proponent of marriage? I thought there was a universal ban upon Rogues frolicking with other Rogues?"
"Since when do the lot of you listen to me?" He accepted the brandy. "I stopped making edicts when it became clear every single Rogue was doing his or her best to flout them."
He'd formed the Company of Rogues over seven months ago in order to discover the mysterious mastermind behind a spate of attacks in London.
They were the best of the best in their respective fields, but following his rules was not one of their talents.
"Speaking of marriage," Gemma drawled, "Byrnes tells me you received the photograph."
Ah, there it was. He'd wondered how long she could bite her tongue.
"Yes."
"The entire encounter may have been innocent, Malloryn. She did slap him."