Could he even pretend he hadn’t at this point?
He wasn’t a green boy fumbling behind the docks. He was two-and-thirty. A man who kept entire districts in line. He did not allow his senses to be overrun by a woman. The last one had been his mother and he had sworn, with a certainty carved into bone, that no woman would ever have that kind of hold over him again. But this one looked at him with eyes blazing, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-swollen, and the ground beneath his feet shifted.
She could be your enemy.
A little spy.
Certainly not innocent. Most definitely not harmless. Absolutely a powder keg, and he’d just struck the match. He lowered her slowly, every inch of her sliding against him, and every last muscle shuddered with the effort of releasing her.
“Be ready tomorrow night at eight.”
Chapter Seven
Violet could stillfeel the bold imprints of his hands on her bottom. Her bottom! Like his parting words, they burned into her flesh. She must have truly lost every one of her senses to even consider meeting him. Though she doubted, like the first time, she had much choice in the matter. She could test him, of course. Test his choice. However, she didn’t want to prolong any attention on her by playing such a dangerous game. Besides, if she didn’t meet him, he might come looking for her. The man had a key to her shop! She had no delusions that he would not use it.
And then what?
More punishment.
Violet groaned and accidentally snipped the head clean off a rose in the arrangement she was putting together.
Angelica caught the slip and raised a brow. “Are you all right, Violet? You’ve been distracted all day.”
Well, kissing the king of the underworld and being groped in a way that stole her breath would do that to a woman.
“I’m perfectly fine,” Violet lied, removing the stem from the vase. Fortunately, this arrangement was for her bedroom and not a client. She’d needed to keep her mind and fingers occupied after this morning’s faux pas. Whether it was working or not was another matter. She remained optimistic, however.
“Yes, well.” Angelica’s gaze switched between her and the arrangement. “You have trimmed those poor flowers within an inch of their life. If they had feelings, they would be weeping.”
“They ought to be thankful they get to live a carefree life, short though it might be. And they do not have insufferable landlords.” Violet muttered the last word under her breath.
Angelica blinked. “I beg your pardon? Insufferable what? I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Never mind.” Violet scratched the back of her head. “I’m simply preoccupied.”
“A man, I presume?” Angelica asked with a knowing grin. “Perhaps a lover?”
Violet nearly choked on air. “Don’t be absurd! What lover? I do not have a lover!”
Angelica chuckled, looking unconvinced. “Why not?” The girl winked at her. “I would not judge you if you did.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“The lady doth protest and all that.”
Violet glared at the girl. “I don’t have a lover,” she reiterated and turned back to her arrangement. “But I do have a bit of a disagreement with a man.”
“Oh?” Angelica asked, the intrigue in her voice unmistakable.
Such a gossip.
“A most unreasonable man,” Violet added, unable to help herself.
“They usually are.”
Violet paused at the suggestive tone of the girl. “It’s not like that, Angelica! This man... Well, he might believe I did something wrong.” She’d better not divulge the sordid wrongdoings of their landlord lest the girl start worrying about the stability of her jobandthe good sense of her employer.
Angelica’s face turned thoughtful. “Did youdowhat he believes you’ve done? Wait, how do you know he believes you might have done this thing? Did he accuse you outright?”
