Page 26 of A Deal with the Devil

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

“You also think you are vexing?” she asked with feigned innocence. “I don’t blame you.”

That almost-laugh again. Crossed with another…growl?

Why did she feel that sound in her thighs?

Not the point.

“I will give you the vowel,” she repeated pointedly. “After you help me rid my sister of Lord Portsmouth.”

“I am not in the habit of murdering earls,” he said. “Though I could.”

“Not murder.” She paused. “Well, not yet, anyway.”

That time he definitely smiled. “And why exactly do you think I can help do away with an unwanted suitor?”

“Don’t be tiresome. You’re Devil.”

“I am.”

“You have power and money.”

“I do.

“And don’t you think if I had either of those things I would have already freed my sister? Mayfair runs on those two things like water runs a millwheel.”

“And reputation.”

“Fine, that too. Yours is rather fearsome.”

“I was beginning to think you hadn’t noticed,” he said drily.

“Don’t be daft. It’s very useful to me.”

“I am, of course, delighted to be of service.” The sarcasm to the slight bow of the head was thick enough to choke on. “Why don’t you just marry your sister off to someone else?”

She sighed, more than a little annoyed. “Yes, because kind men who overlook no dowry whatsoever and a father-in-law in debt grow on trees in London. Or better yet, I’ll just order one from the shop next door, shall I? Perhaps they’ll throw in a meringue.”

“Kindness? That’s what you want?”

“For my sister, yes. And enough money to live comfortably.”

“And for you?”

“For me?”

“What do you want, Miss Caldecott?”

He pressed closer, and she realized her hands were flattened against his very nice chest. She dropped them hastily. The tingle she felt was imaginary. Obviously. “Immaterial.”

“Is it?”

“Entirely.” Why was it so warm in here? She should have opened a window. Was she sweating? That was hardly ladylike. Or appealing. Not that it mattered.

“Hmm.”

“What does that mean?” she demanded. She was blotchy, she just knew it. Pink and red and freckled and shiny.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“You are very brave.” He said it calmly—detached, even. As though she couldn’t see a flash of something dark and furious in his face before he wrestled it away. “To steal from the Devil and then call him a liar.”

She shrugged because anything she might have said tangled in her throat. Had she pushed him too far? She was no gambler. Clearly, the lack of talent ran in the blood.

“Very well, then,” he said softly, dark eyes snaring hers as easily as if she were a rabbit and he a wolf. “You have yourself a deal.”

Relief made her feel lightheaded. She held out her hand to shake. He glanced down, amused, then predatory. Alarm bells rang inside her skull.

“Oaths used to be sealed with a kiss to make them legal. And you’re in bed with the Devil now, my little thief.”