Page 77 of Rules for a Wicked Wager

Too right.

“Too bad,” she returned hotly. “If I’m going to live up to my reputation, then I get to pick exactly how and—”

“We’ll talk about that in a minute,” interrupted Peter. Then, when she opened her mouth to argue, he turned to her so she could see the absolute fear in his eyes. “I’m still terrified at the memory of you clapping those mugs on Silas’s head.”

“It was brilliant,” Ash said.

“He could have hurt you and…” Peter swallowed, cutting off his next words.

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “Finish your thought.”

“And it would have destroyed me to see that. To be the cause of that.”

“The cause?” she said, turning so he had to release her. He didn’t. He gripped her even tighter. “I chose to come. I chose to help. If I was hurt, then that’s my fault, not yours.”

“Doesn’t fadge,” inserted Ash with a wobbly shake of his head. “Might have worked before he went to India, but not now. Peter pays attention. And he takes care of what he sees.”

He watched her absorb those words, her eyes darting quickly between the two of them. Then she frowned. “Me?” she asked in a small voice.

God, what more did she need to get it through her thick head? “Yes, you.” Then he dragged her tight against him and took her mouth with all the ferocity his churning emotions demanded. He was probably moving too fast. Up until now, he’d made sure every step of this dance was slow enough for a virgin to handle. But not now. He was feeling too raw.

Far from being startled, she responded as if she’d been desperate for just this very thing. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she pressed her body flush against his, and she nipped at his tongue before thrusting hers into his mouth.

“Pete! Damn it, you can’t do that here!”

She fell back, though he kept her from stumbling. And the two of then looked at each other. Her eyes were wide, her lips were dark red, and her breasts were peaked and so damned intriguing that he couldn’t get a thought through his head besides a dozen ways to taste them.

“Oh hell,” Ash grumbled. “Robin, find us a hackney. I’ve got an eye on them, though I’m not sure I can stop a woman bent on ruination.”

Peter stiffened, ready to flatten his best friend for that, but Mari held him back.

“He’s right,” she said softly. “I’ve lost my head.”

Peter shook his head. “No, you’re finding yourself. Though why you chose a dockside tavern to do it in, I’ll never know.”

She sniffed. “You had to go all the way to India. That puts me ahead in this game.”

Ash chuckled. “She’s got you there.”

Peter didn’t answer, his mind too fuddled to form a witty response. Fortunately, Robin was quick about his task. A hackney rolled up a moment later. Peter made sure both Ash and Mari were inside, then he stopped to speak with Robin, keeping his voice low.

“Just how well do you know the people around here?”

“I grew up not far—”

“Well enough to find out where Silas runs his boys? Where they meet and work from? What they’re planning?”

Robin nodded. “And wait for Tie?”

“There’s a waitress here who said she’d send word if Tie shows up.”

Mari poked her head out. “Ellie. She lives right beside the tavern.”

Robin nodded. “I can find out what you need.”

“I’ll take care of matters at the house. You know how to reach me?”

“Yes, my lord.”