Page 19 of The Devil's Bargain
“Say it again.” His voice roughened. “Say my name like that. Like you’re dying for my touch.”
Instead, she pulled his mouth to hers in a desperate kiss. He groaned against her lips, lifting her against the wall as her legs wrapped around his waist. The feeling of him, hard and ready against her centre, made her moan.
But before he could take things further, voices in the hallway made them freeze. The moment shattered like fine crystal dropped on marble.
Devlin set her down carefully, his breathing ragged. “This isn’t finished,” he warned, his eyes still dark with want.
“It has to be,” she said, smoothing her skirts with trembling hands.
His laugh was genuine this time. He caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “This is the beginning of something neither of us can resist much longer.”
As she watched him leave, Caroline knew he was right. The game they were playing had changed irrevocably. And she wasn’t entirely sure who was winning anymore.
10
The Imperial Affair
The crystal chandeliers of the Gaskell drawing room cast a deceptively warm glow over London’s business elite. Devlin stood in shadow, observing how Miss Hampton fluttered among the gentlemen like a butterfly seeking nectar, her golden curls catching the light as she moved from group to group.
“Such a charming creature,” Albert Graves of Imperial Water & Engineering remarked to his trusted lieutenant. “And so... informative about London Water Works’ operations.”
“Indeed.” Richard Gaskell’s eyes followed Hampton’s progress through the room. “Who would have thought Edward Thurlow’s mistress would prove so useful? Though I hear his widow holds the real prize.”
“The filtration system?” Graves lowered his voice. “Our engineers say it’s revolutionary. If we could acquire the patents...”
Gaskell whispered something inaudible, but his smile was cold.
Devlin’s jaw clenched. He’d attended this gathering on a whim, curious about Imperial’s sudden interest in social affairs.Now he understood why Hampton had been so thoroughly welcomed into their circle.
Not even five minutes after he’d emerged from the shadows, he heard Hampton’s voice carry across the room as she approached. “Mr Elmstone! How unexpected to find you here. I thought you declined the invitation?”
“I have braved to mix business with pleasure,” he said kissing her hand, “which you seem to be doing quite effectively.”
She preened under his attention. “Oh, these gentlemen have been so kind, taking an interest in poor Edward’s company. Mr Graves has been most attentive.”
“Has he indeed?” Devlin’s tone remained pleasant, though his mind raced. Was Hampton truly that naïve? Was she deliberately feeding information to Imperial or simply enjoying the attention? Either way, she was becoming a liability.
“Such a shame about the recent... difficulties with the Westminster contract,” Gaskell remarked, joining them. “I hear London Water’s innovations aren’t scaling well to larger operations.”
“Really?” Devlin raised an eyebrow. “I hadn’t heard of any difficulties.”
“Oh yes,” Hampton interjected eagerly. “Caroline’s been absolutely frantic about it. Just yesterday I saw her reviewing some terribly complex drawings in her study. Something about pressure?” She frowned prettily.
Devlin watched Gaskell smile approvingly at the woman. So that was their game. Use Hampton to identify vulnerabilities, then swoop in to “rescue” the company when problems mysteriously arose.
“Perhaps Mrs Thurlow would benefit from more... experienced guidance,” Graves suggested smoothly. “Imperial has considerable resources.”
“How fortunate that you take such interest in your competitors’ welfare.” Devlin’s said, his smile as warm as Gaskell’s. “Though I suspect Mrs Thurlow has matters well in hand.”
“You seem quite confident of the widow’s capabilities,” Gaskell observed. “I understood you were pursuing the company yourself?”
“My interests are... evolving.” Devlin caught Hampton studying him with sudden suspicion. “Now, I must make my rounds. Gaskell, Miss Hampton.” He tipped his head and moved away, his mind churning.
Imperial’s interest was alarming. Given their reputation, which rivalled his, he needed to protect Caroline’s work. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d begun this pursuit hoping to strip her of her power. Now he found himself planning to defend it.
Later that evening, his carriage passed Caroline’s townhouse. A light still burned in one window. Her study, he presumed. Was she working on those technical drawings Hampton had mentioned so carelessly? His fingers itched to break in, to see for himself what her mind had created and her hand had crafted.
As his carriage continued into the night, Devlin smiled grimly. Let Imperial plot their acquisitions. He would have something far more valuable than mere patents or profits.
