Page 55 of Devil in Her Details

“That’s because you’re here.”

Bloody hell. Whose shirt did she wear? A real man’s? Or something she’d made herself? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but he swallowed the question. None of his business, so he decided to just believe the latter.

“Finally speechless?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s quite the novel experience. Being in bed with you, that is.”

“So damn blunt,” Dagger muttered.

“Since I have the gall to lie in bed with a man, I should have the gall to be blunt about it, no?”

Could he even argue against such reasoning? “Just don’t let anyone into your bed.”

“Only you, then?”

How could his damn cock not harden at that? He was a professional, for God’s sake. He shifted uncomfortably. Daggers. Think about daggers. Anything but the fact that “only you” was the most provocative thing he’d heard in years. Daggers. Their blades . . . their sheaths . . . Christ, no. Don’t think about daggers.

He scowled at the darkness, annoyed at his cock. Annoyed at himself.

“Dagger?”

Not helping.

He palmed his cock, resigned to his predicament.

“You really have no sense of threat,” he muttered, scowling at her chuckle.

“Oh, I’m confident you won’t harm me.”

Harm took different forms and different degrees.

“In fact,” she murmured into his silence, “I’m quite grateful to you.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Well, I am. I don’t know if I thanked you, but thank you for helping me today.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said gruffly.

“Your brothers don’t seem to like me all that much, which I suppose I can understand, given the circumstances. Won’t they be angry if you hire me for my services?”

Dagger chuckled. “So you’ve decided to accept my—”

“Don’t even say it!” she exclaimed, shuffling beneath the bedding. “You know what I mean. Won’t they be angry if you see this through with Calvington? It’s impossible to know where it might end, if it ever ends.”

It might end with that man in a crate . . .

Hmm.

Perhaps not the worst idea, as long as his noble friends didn’t take affront when one of their own went missing. He still filed the idea away for later. “You shouldn’t worry about me. Worry more for yourself.”

She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I had hoped to have some peace at the seaside. Who knew that fool would be so determined?” She shifted against her pillow. “He seems to believe that my reluctance is merely a haggling tactic. As though I am simply waiting for the right offer.” A pause. “It’s exhausting, being misread.”

“You must have captivated him completely.”

“Don’t speak such rubbish! That man has porridge for brains. I’ve even considered finding a husband just to thwart him, but I have my doubts that it would work.”