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“It is. You want?” William took the bottle in hand again.
“There is not enough no in the world.” Anne reached into the bar and pulled out a bottle of wine and a Toblerone.
“Good plan,” William said, pouring himself another glass as she poured her wine.
“If you don’t tell me what happened, I’m going to beat you up and take the whiskey from you,” Anne warned him. She hopped on the bed and opened the candy.
“Love it how violent you are when you’re being supportive.” William sunk into a large leather chair and threw his legs over the side.
This time, he savored the whiskey as he recounted what he’d heard from Egerton, what he’d suspected about his father, and exactly what he’d learned from his mother before she’d died. Anne set the candy down and went to sit on the free arm of the chair.
“That’s terrible,” she said.
“Noooo.” William scoffed. “That’s par for the course between the Spencer’s and Egerton’s, right? We’re completely normal.”
“What I mean to say is, that’s completely fucked up. He threatened you even as he was offering you a partnership, and we’re going to nail him to the wall,” Anne clarified.
“There’s that lovely violence again. You must be the best mum.”
Anne stiffened. William rolled his eyes up to her.
“You think I don’t mean that? My mum taught me how to fight with knives. She taught me how to shoot. And if anyone had come at me with a blade when I was alive, she would’ve slit them from neck to navel within five seconds.”
“What, was she training you to be an assassin? I have higher aspirations for Evie.”
“She trained me to take care of myself. But she probably did train a hit man or two. I know she was involved in MI6 back in the day.” William drained his glass and let it rest in his lap for a moment. “Do you…?”
“What? What is it?”
“D’you reckon the ring you found at the scene could’ve been my mum’s? She gave me mine. And she had one that looked like it. She might’ve given it to one of her stu
dents before she died.”
Anne sat with that for a moment, carding her fingers through William’s hair while he looked at her in askance. She didn’t know. She only knew that if the intel they’d gained tonight was accurate, they might be one step closer to figuring this tangled web out.
“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. Egerton still could’ve been trying to frame you. He could’ve been using your possible arrest to make you want to join him,” Anne said.
“He doesn’t work that way.” William reached for the bottle and filled his glass once more. “Dunno why I care so bloody much that my father probably had me stabbed to teach me a lesson. It’s not exactly new information that he’s a fucking psychopath.”
Anne said nothing, just continued to pet his hair, occasionally curling it around her fingers. She kissed his forehead, and he closed his eyes. Maybe it was the evening, with all the glamor and dancing. Or maybe it was just the two glasses of champagne and the red wine she’d downed. Anne hadn’t drunk anything in more than a year. Whatever it was, her gentle kiss on the forehead somehow turned to her fingertips on his chin, tilting his head back, so that she could place a less than gentle kiss on his lips.
William returned the kiss, no doubt more intoxicated than she was, and shifted in the chair to cup the sides of her face with his strong, deft hands. Soon, she was in his lap, squeezing his thighs with her own and following every long, heated kiss with another until they were both panting and shaking.
His hands slipped under her dress and moved up her thighs, only stopping when he felt the gun. Anne laughed and moved to unfasten it.
“Speaking of protection,” Will muttered.
“I’m on the pill. I don’t need a little sister for Evie right now.”
When she set the gun on the table, she looked up, hesitating just for a moment. But then he was kissing her again, and she melted. He was with her again, pressed to her, his scent and warmth a part of her as they frantically scrambled out of their fancy clothes. She’d wanted this more than she could say, even in moments when she’d pushed him away. Especially then.
When her dress was pooling on the floor, she climbed on top of him, her chest heaving, and moved her hands down his bare torso. She paused slightly at the scar on his side and gave him a firm kiss. His hands cupped around her ass, holding her up as she gripped his shoulders.
We should stop. We should stop, her mind chanted. But her body didn’t listen. It had been starving for him for too long.
So long, in fact, that she skipped everything and rubbed her hand over his thick erection before rising up and guiding him inside of her. She was tight with disuse and let out a soft cry. William moved one hand up her back.
“You alright?”
