Page 40 of The Devil's Bargain
“Devlin!”
“This conversation is finished.” He turned away before he said something truly regrettable. “I’ll speak to my contacts about the water works industry. We’ll discuss this at dinner.”
“In the study,” she snapped. “Strictly for business. I won’t spend one moment more in your company than necessary!”
“Perfect! You’re beginning to give me a headache!”
Devlin marched over to his study and slammed the door behind him with enough force to rattle the windows. He stood in the sudden silence, his hands clenched at his sides, wrestling with an emotion he wasn’t ready to name. Jealousy he could admit to. But this bone-deep need to erase every trace of another man’s touch from her memory... that was more unacceptable.
The tension lingered through the evening, following them up the stairs when bedtime arrived. Devlin entered her chamber as was their custom over the past few nights, but tonight felt different. The air crackled with unspoken words.
Caroline sat at her vanity, brushing her hair with sharp, angry strokes. The copper and red strands caught the lamplight, reminding Devlin of flames. How appropriate, he thought, when she had the power to burn him so thoroughly.
“Did he make you happy?” The question escaped before he could stop it.
She stilled. “Why are you obsessed about him?”
“Because I need to know.” He moved behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Did he give you what I can’t? Trust? Freedom? Was he a good lover?”
“You’re being ridiculous.” She set down her brush with care. “Thomas and I were brief. A moment of connection during a lonely time.”
“Yet you defend him still.”
“I am five and thirty, for Heaven’s sake. I defend my right to have a past.” She turned to face him, eyes flashing. “To have made my own choices before you forced your way into my life.”
“It’s what guttersnipes do, isn’t it? Take what they want because they’ve never been given anything freely.”
Something in his tone made her pause. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” He turned away, but not before she caught something raw in his expression. “Forget I spoke.”
“Devlin.” Her voice softened slightly. “What did you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He moved toward the bed. “We’re what we are. I’m a blackguard, and you’re my victim. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
“Tell me.” When he remained silent, her voice hardened. “If you expect me to share your bed, you at least owe me an explanation.”
For a long moment, he stood motionless. Then, “My mother left when I was four. Just walked away one morning, never looked back. Father said it was because I was too much trouble. Too demanding. Too... unlovable.”
Caroline’s hand flew to her heart as if to protect his.
“He drank himself to death within the year. Left me alone on the streets, fighting for scraps with the other rats.” His laugh was bitter. “So you see, I learned early that if you want something, you take it. No one gives anything freely to creatures like me.”
“Devlin—”
“No.” He turned back to her, his eyes hard but haunted. “Don’t pity me. I built myself up from nothing. Became someone even my mother would regret abandoning. And when I saw you, I knew I had to have you. Even if it meant taking you like the guttersnipe I am.”
The silence stretched between them, heavy with pain.
Finally, Caroline spoke softly. “You’re wrong, you know.”
“About what?”
“About being unlovable.” She stood, moving toward him. “Your actions were wrong. But you’re not unlovable. Just... broken. Like so many of us.”
A faint smile appeared at his lips. His arm then circled around her waist and pulled her soft body against the solid planes of his.
“I believe you’ve begun to see me as a man and not just the devil, Mrs Elmstone.”
