Page 73 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

“I know all about Silas, and Ellie will let me know when Tie shows up. Oh, and Lord Rimbury and a footman are hiding outside, just in case.” She drew back and beamed a smug smile at him.

“You…what?”

“Did you think you were the only one who could skulk about in taverns?”

The very idea that she’d been here…that she’d been skulking, left him cold with horror. “Tell me everything,” he said, his voice tinged with true anger. It did nothing to suppress his terror.

She rolled her eyes, then settled against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, his actions more protective than sexual.

“It wasn’t difficult,” she said, obviously pleased with herself. “I jumped on the back of Lord Rimbury’s hackney. Then I found a woman and traded my clothes for hers, and my earbobs for information.”

He rubbed his hand through her hair—her glorious tumble of auburn locks—and felt her earlobe. It was naked, and he tugged on it just to hear her murmur a throaty purr. “But why?” he said, genuinely confused. The magnitude of what she’d done was just filtering into his awareness.

She exhaled loudly. “You promised to explain things to me. You promised to do it tonight. I cannot help it if you made it blasted difficult to find you.”

“But, Mari—”

She pressed her finger to his lips. “Have I helped you? Have I gotten the information you need?”

“You haven’t told it to me yet!”

She blinked. “Oh. Right. Silas runs a thieving ring of boys. They steal cargo somehow. They’ve got at least one wealthy protector—some say more—and Tie is the youngest of his crew.”

“Somehow?”

She shrugged, and in that too-tight gown, her breasts were a distracting sight. “Ellie didn’t know. Though Silas comes here more nights than not, which implies that his home is nearby. And it’s not just him, though he’s in charge. He has three lieutenants, though I don’t think it’s right to call boys raised to steal by a military rank. Insults the real lieutenants, don’t you think?”

Peter dropped his forehead against her temple, shaking his head slightly. “I quite agree,” he said, rather than reveal how flabbergasted he was by her knowledge. “Three lieutenants?” he prompted.

“Boys he’s raised. Big ones. They go everywhere with him as a kind of guard.”

Peter absorbed this information, making quick plans. All he needed to do now was to wait for Silas to show and tail him. Thanks to Mari, he had a much clearer picture of the situation. If he stood watch, eventually he would find out who the wealthy protector was. And maybe he’d grab little Tie and figure out his father’s role in all this.

All thanks to Mari. “You’re a wonder,” he breathed against her skin.

“That’s what I keep telling myself, but no one else seems to notice.”

“I notice,” he said. He noticed a lot of things about her. Like the way she let him hold her legs and caress the soft swell of her thighs. Like the way her breasts were pressed against him, and how she’d run her hands through his hair. This was more than a proper woman playing a part. This was Mari, who was desperate to escape the harsh rules of proper behavior. And he was just the man to help her do it.

“Kiss me,” he said as he maneuvered her face toward him. “Kiss me like a tart who is about to be paid very, very well.”

Instead of doing as he asked, she arched a brow. “A tart would give you nothing without coin.”

“Whatever you want, Mari. Just kiss me.” There was raw hunger in his voice, a need that burned through his blood and hardened his cock. A desire that he focused fully on her, then watched with satisfaction as her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. Finally, she slowly, hesitantly, leaned forward. Her lips touched his. Her mouth parted, and her tongue darted out. Her arms tightened around him, and she pressed her breasts against his chest.

Yes.

He took her mouth. He slanted his across hers and thrust his tongue inside. He might have done a great deal more. He might have flipped the tavern owner a coin and taken her right upstairs to bed. He was that desperate to be inside her. But then the door slammed open, and a rough voice called out.

“Drinks fer me mates. Drinks fer ever’body, thanks to me new nob friend!”

He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t want to let anything distract him from the wonder that was Mari. But this was odd enough that he couldn’t ignore it. Because anything odd in here was dangerous.

So he broke away, and then he hissed out a curse. There, held roughly by a man who could only be Silas, was his best friend, looking much the worse for wear.

“Oh dear,” murmured Mari. “They’ve caught Lord Rimbury.”

Chapter Seventeen