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“I mean, you’re not really here.” She reached down and touched his erection. “Oh, this is, it’s beginning to respond nicely—must say I was worried about that a little while ago. But these parts of you”—she touched his chest area above his heart and then his head—“they seem somewhere else tonight.”

She laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were in love.” She laughed again, but stopped abruptly at the look on his face. “You are. My God. Lucifer has found love.”

Damn it, not her too. He gritted his teeth. “I am not in love.”

“Really?” Her tone was disbelieving. “Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m ready and eager to go.”

Molly pushed him backward onto her bed. “Fine. Let’s do it.” She climbed on top of him, her skirts bunched up around her waist.

As she undid his shirt and kissed his chest he was reminded of Ria. The look of intense concentration on her face when she had explored his chest, how it had felt when she licked him…

He groaned, put his hands on Molly’s shoulders and gently pushed. Molly looked at his face and, shaking her head from side to side, said, “You have it bad, lover.”

“I’m sorry.”

Molly crouched on the bed and watched as he got up and straightened his clothing. “No, lover, I’m sorry. She’s very lucky, whoever she is.”

Ignoring her statement, he placed a handful of notes on the dresser, saying, “Something extra for you.”

She avidly looked at the money, then gave a broad smile—it was more than she’d normally make in a couple of months.

As he went to leave, he hesitated, then turned back to her, “If you ever want to go into a different type of business, come and see me.”

Then he sheepishly went downstairs, hoping to slip out the back, but was seen by Raven. That considerate and understanding friend groaned and said, “Damn! That wasn’t long enough. You can’t have even tried!” He added hopefully, “Perhaps if you go back up?”

Luc looked daggers at him and walked out the door. Hearing a familiar laugh, he turned back in time to see a smiling Devon being handed a bundle of notes by a glum Raven.After tossing a few choice words in their direction, he proceeded to drown his sorrows in a nearby inn. Alone.

The knock on the front door reverberated through his alcohol-soaked brain. Luc groaned and sank his head in his hands.

He had a strong feeling it would be his mother. Though he’d been back in London a week, she hadn’t yet visited, an almost-unheard-of event. She didn’t normally pass up an opportunity to extract money from him.

He hoped it was someone else because he very definitely was not in the mood to deal with her.

From his study, he heard his butler’s footsteps, the door opening, and then the light, dulcet tones of his mother.

He ran his hand through his hair and stood up from the desk just as his butler appeared in the doorway, Beatrice behind him.

Brushing past the butler, she swept into the room, saying, “Don’t be silly, Evans. I’m his mother. You don’t need to introduce me.” Hands outstretched, she greeted him. “My darling son.”

“Beatrice.”

She looked at him searchingly. “You don’t look well.”

“I am fine, thank you,” he politely said, ignoring the dull ache in his head.

“Overindulged last night, perhaps?”

Luc remained silent.

Without waiting for a reply, Beatrice looked around the study and then wandered over to the bookcase. She browsed the book titles, her fingers trailing over the spines. Then she picked up a china figurine.

He resumed his seat behind the desk and waited.

Finally she gave a nervous little laugh, put the figurine down, and came back to the desk.

He gestured to the chair in front, and Beatrice swept her skirts aside and sat down. He looked at her, waiting for her to speak. She gave another titter and said, “I am afraid I find myself in somewhat of a predicament.”

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