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There was one part of him in particular that was despicably hard, but it would be an egregious lapse in manners to say so.

Apollo cleared his throat. “It feels quite the opposite where you are concerned, my lady.”

Indeed, his heart felt raw, like an overly ripe fruit that would be bruised by the slightest touch. He’d never felt this way with another woman, and he knew instinctively that he never would.

She stared at him, her lips parting, and he wondered if he had gone too far.

But then she gave herself a small shake as if to change the trajectory of her thoughts and asked, “What did the two of them do when they were discovered?”

“It was rather too undignified to describe, but suffice it to say that my friend was doing his utmost to persuade me that she had been on her knees trying to find the necklace she had dropped, rather than for any other nefarious purpose. I expect he didn’t want to lose my friendship, but he had crossed a boundary.”

“Perhaps she truly did drop a necklace,” Ophelia suggested.

Inwood’s cock had been firmly in Helene’s mouth when Apollo had entered the chamber, much to the dismay of a protesting maid who had witnessed the ignominious scene over his shoulder and nearly swooned. He had later learned that Inwood had invested a hefty sum into the Royal Curtain Theater on Helene’s behalf—no doubt what she had been after.

“My sweet, innocent lady,” he drawled. “I can assure you there is only one reason she would have been in the bedchamber of a man who was not her betrothed, and it has naught to do with finding a lost piece of jewelry.”

New color stained her cheeks. “But could it not have been an innocent mistake? How do you know they were bedding each other?”

“Because his cock was in her mouth,” he said gently.

Ophelia’s lips formed a perfect o of astonishment. But to her credit, she regained her poise with remarkable speed. Her spine stiffened, and she snapped her mouth shut.

“I don’t suppose that part of his anatomy would have been a very good place to store a lost necklace.”

Apollo couldn’t contain his laughter. She was so bloody delightful. So witty, at once naïve and yet full of surprises. He could easily see that life with her would never grow boring or tedious. Had Corbett known how damned lucky he’d been to have her as his wife? Apollo very much doubted it.

“No,” he said at length when his mirth had subsided. “I can honestly report I have never used mine for such a novel purpose.”

A giggle burst out of her, one she promptly squelched with a palm slapped over her mouth before she found her composure and removed it.

“You, sir,” she said without heat, “are indeed mad.”

“Ah, but a bit of madness can be a good thing,” he teased. “Look at you now. You’re smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

And by God, when she smiled, it was nothing short of awe-inducing. He longed to tear away the stupid mask that kept him from admiring her beauty in full, but that appeared to be a necessary evil for now. She should always be smiling, this magnificent woman.

She gave him a quelling look, but another husky laugh slipped from her lush lips.

“You like me and my madness,” he pressed. “Admit it, my lady.”

“I cannot believe you sat without wearing a stitch of clothing for two hours.”

Apollo grinned back at her. “It was worth every second.”

A subtle knock at the door signaled the arrival of the final course, and whilst he could have cursed the servants for their interruption, he reckoned he had pushed her far enough for the evening. They dined on soufflé vanille aux ananas, and it required all the restraint he possessed to keep from taking her in his arms when their dinner came to an end and carrying her off to his bed just as he had warned her earlier.

CHAPTER 6

Ophelia suffered yet another fitful sleep before descending to the breakfast table. To her dismay, the man who had haunted her hours—slumbering and awake—was nowhere to be found this morning. She seated herself with a hearty plate of breakfast fare and told herself it didn’t matter where he was. That she hadn’t been looking for him.

That the twinge deep inside her when they had parted for the evening the night before hadn’t been disappointment, but relief.

Apparently, she had grown quite adept at lying to herself.