Page 43 of The Devil's Bargain
She explained the mathematics, hyperaware of how his other hand had come to rest on her shoulder, thumb absently stroking her nape. The touch was soothing.
“You’re brilliant,” he murmured, voice rough with admiration. “Do you know that?”
“That’s the only reason you married me,” she teased, but her voice shook slightly.
“No.” He turned her chair to face him, his expression serious. “I wanted all of you. Your mind, your fire, your impossible stubbornness.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Even your complete inability to admit when I’m right about something.”
“Which happens so rarely,” she whispered but leaned into his touch.
“There you go again.” But his smile was tender as he traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “My contrary, brilliant wife.”
She caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. The tenderness surprised them both. “These plans... they’ll help so many people.”
“They’re not finished yet.” His fingers tangled with hers. “Help me? Not as my wife or business partner. But as someone who understands what it means to want to make things better.”
Caroline studied their joined hands, thinking of all the walls still between them, walls she’d helped build. But here in the quiet night, those walls seemed less important than the man before her, asking not for her submission but her partnership.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Though I reserve the right to correct all your errors.”
His laugh rumbled through his chest. “I would expect nothing less.”
“Devlin, may I ask you something?” Caroline’s fingers fidgeted with her sleeve as she gathered her courage.
He turned to face her fully, his eyes softening at her nervous gesture. “Of course.”
“Why have you been retiring to your chamber?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the question seemed to fill the room.
“I didn’t wish to disturb your rest.” His expression held a mix of tenderness and uncertainty as he explained. “I’ve noticed that you looked more rested without me in your bed.”
“I see.” She took a hesitant step closer. “I thought perhaps you were still angry about Findlay.”
“I am vexed,” he admitted, running a hand through his chocolate brown hair in frustration, “but it’s no fault of your own. I didn’t realise what a jealous scoundrel I could be.”
“Is this out of your character?” Her lips curved in a small smile.
“I’d say so. I’ve not had a wife before.” His answering smile held an endearing touch of shyness, so different from his usual confident demeanour. “Tell me, Caroline. Would you like my company?”
The vulnerability in his voice made her chest clench. She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I would.”
Caroline’s heart fluttered as Devlin led her into their chamber, his hand warm and steady around hers. The familiar scent of his soap lingered in the air, mixing with the gentle glow of thebedside lamp. She watched his face in the mirror as he helped with her dress buttons, noting how his usual mask of confidence had softened into something more vulnerable, more real.
His fingers moved with deliberate care, occasionally brushing against her skin in a way that made her breath hitch. How strange, she thought, that these same hands that had once represented her captivity now felt like freedom.
“I’ve missed this,” she confessed softly as he drew back the covers. The words felt dangerous, like admitting too much, but she couldn’t stop them.
The warmth of his body enveloped her as his arms circled her waist from behind. “I’ve missed everything about you,” he murmured against her neck, his breath stirring loose strands of her hair. “Your scent, the sound of your breathing, even the way you steal all the blankets in your sleep.”
She turned in his embrace, pressing her palm against his chest where she could feel his heart beating as rapidly as her own. “I do not steal blankets,” she protested, though her voice held no real indignation.
“You absolutely do.” The tenderness in his smile made her chest ache as he guided her into bed.
They settled beneath the covers, and Caroline found herself instinctively curling into his warmth, her head finding its place against his shoulder as if it had always belonged there. His arm curved around her, strong and protective. She marvelled at how different it felt now—not an obligation or a compromise, but a choice.
“Devlin?” She hardly recognised her own voice, so soft and uncertain.
“Hmm?” His fingers traced patterns on her shoulder that made her skin tingle.
“Thank you for giving me space when I needed it.” She swallowed hard before adding, “But please don’t do it again.”
