The Bride of Devil's Acre (15 page)

Seeing their notorious host, the crowd parted easily. Jacqueline watched men nod in greeting and women cast her husband appreciative glances from under lowered lashes.
 

Jacqueline’s eyes narrowed. This was where her husband spent his nights. Surely he had indulged in more than one assignation with the bevy of beautiful women filling the club. He certainly appeared to have his pick.

Glaring at his back, Jacqueline wondered just how many women he’d enjoyed and if he expected to continue to indulge now that he was married. Only, as they made their way to the hazards table, she couldn’t help but notice her husband seemed unaware of the lingering looks. There were no heated glances, at least not from him, and nothing to indicate he knew any of the women on a more personal basis.

Devil slipped into an open space at the hazards table, pulling Jacqueline in beside him and nodding to the dealer. The young lord currently playing immediately stepped back, handing Devil the dice.

“My wife will roll for me.”

Devil explained the game to Jacqueline amid murmurs of surprise and congratulations, bending his head and whispering in her ear. “Pick a number between five and nine, and then roll the dice.”

Jacqueline shivered. Devil’s breath stirred tendrils of her hair and tickled her neck. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Devil, conscious of the audience waiting to play, resisted the urge to nuzzle his wife’s neck. He could smell the scent of her skin, a delicate scent that was surprisingly dark and sensual.

“What happens then?”

“Roll the dice and find out.”

The awareness that they were no longer talking about hazards rippled over Jacqueline’s skin, warming her flesh. With hands that shook, she tossed the dice.

“Winner!” the dealer announced, gathering the dice and handing them back.

The game was a blur, Jacqueline riding the thrill of winning and losing up and down. The table erupted in moans of disappointment when she called a halt, needing a break and hoping for something cool to drink.

“You did marvelous,” Devil said, smiling with pleasure. When was the last time he’d enjoyed an evening at one of his tables? Hell, he rarely stepped out on the floor anymore. He spent most of the night in his office going over the books, preparing orders, and handling the myriad emergencies that came with running a club such as Purgatory.

“How much did I lose?” They were headed back toward the bar, the trapeze artists still swinging slowly overhead.

“I have no idea,” Devil admitted, and didn’t care.
 
“But I’m sure you’re good for it.” He couldn’t say what he had hoped to accomplish by showing his wife Purgatory. To impress her, maybe? Whatever it was, he hadn’t expected to partake in her enjoyment, the experience surprisingly new and exciting.

“That was fun, but I don’t understand the point.”

“Of gambling?” Devil signaled to John, the barkeep. “Champagne for my wife.”

John nodded. Word had made its way around that the boss had married and had brought his new bride with him for the evening.

“Yes, it seems a bit of a waste to spend money on a chance of winning more. You’re already guaranteed what you have, and the chance is rarely worth the risk.”

“Thankfully, most of my patrons do not feel as you do,” Devil said, handing Jacqueline a glass of champagne. A moment later, John poured Devil’s preferred glass of brandy. “But, to answer your question, let me ask one of my own: Did you have fun?”

“I did!” Jacqueline admitted. It had been a thrill, never knowing what was going to happen and trying to predict the roll of the dice. Her heart was still beating fast, and the excitement of the crowd had fed her own.

“Then
that
was the point.” Devil accentuated his point with a wave of his glass. “All of this is about having fun.”

“It’s about making money.” Jacqueline wasn’t so naive as to believe her husband had created Purgatory out of a noble desire to provide the wicked with a place to indulge their desires.

“The two are not mutually exclusive.” Devil turned, leaning a hip against the bar. His wife sat perched on a stool beside him. Her face was still flushed, and her skin glowed in the warmth of the room. Unbidden, his hand came up and tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, tracing the delicate shell with his thumb.
 

Jacqueline shivered, her pulse jumping at the touch.
 

Devil, his eyes on his hand, traced the delicate column of his wife’s throat, slipping his fingers around the nape of her neck and cupping her head. Her skin was soft, and the hair here downy soft. “I’m going to kiss you,” he informed her, his voice husky.

Jacqueline’s eyes went wide, but she nodded, her gaze dropping to her husband’s mouth as anticipation flared to life.

Devil bent his head and captured his wife’s mouth. Her lips parted, and he swept inside, tasting her fully for the first time. She tasted of champagne and something sweeter, the flavor rolling across his tongue.
 

Jacqueline’s body yielded under the force of Devil’s kiss. Grasping
 
at his coat, her fingers crushed the superfine fabric as she surrendered to him. He led her in a dance of lips and tongues, the two of them drinking from each other as the world fell away.
 

Devil had had his share of women—expensive, beautiful women that spread themselves out for his pleasure. Each of them had been well versed in the art of lovemaking, artfully bringing him to a crashing climax that left him covered in sweat.
 

Yet none of them affected him the way his softly yielding wife did.

Her kiss was about passion, and pleasure. The way she slid into his mouth, her desire to explore adding an intoxicating flavor to their kiss.
 

Devil shifted, an unfamiliar need to get closer had him pulling Jacqueline to the edge of her seat and stepping between her knees. Heavy skirts kept him from feeling her heat, even as he thickened and hardened in his trousers.
 

Jacqueline gasped. Devil was pressed up hard against her, his body a solid wall of mass and muscles. She could feel him straining, his body working to get closer.
 

Devil’s mind worked furiously. He could take her to his office and would love to see her spread out before the hearth, or there was the Petal & Thorn. Lady Jade was sure to have a room available.

The thought of taking his wife for the first time in a brothel was the dose of cold water Devil needed to douse his raging desire. Gentling his kiss, Devil savored one last taste of his wife’s lips and lifted his head.

Jacqueline opened her eyes as the room came roaring back in, and stared up into her husband’s heated gaze. She was still bent back in his arms, chest heaving. Each breath brushed her breasts against the front of his dress shirt. Slowly, she unwrapped her fingers and smoothed the wrinkled fabric of his coat.

“Let’s go home,” Devil murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Jacqueline nodded, equal parts anxiety and anticipation tightening her throat.
 

Devil grabbed his wife’s hand and, turning, ran straight into Finn.

“Just the man I was looking for.”
 

Finn’s smile suggested he’d witnessed the heated exchange between Devil and his wife.
 

“Not now,” Devil growled, and made to step past.

Finn blocked Devil’s path, at considerable risk to his person. “Yes, now.”

Devil searched his man’s face.
 

“We’ve got trouble.”

“Can’t you take care of it?”

Finn blinked. This was a first. “Sorry, boss.”

Devil heaved a sigh, and his wife pressed enticingly close behind him. There was a moment, just one—that he would never admit to anyone else—when he considered ignoring Finn and leaving with his wife.
 

“Meet me in my office.”

Finn nodded, tipping his head to Jacqueline before slipping around the end of the bar.

Devil prayed for patience. Lots and lots of patience.
 

“Something has come up?” Jacqueline asked her husband’s back. His shoulders had tensed, and his grip on her fingers tightened.

“Apparently.” Devil turned to his wife, his eyes still hot. “I may be a while.”

“I can wait.” Jacqueline slid back onto her stool. Her heartbeat was slow to return to normal, the power of her husband’s kiss lingering long after he lifted his lips.
 

Devil nodded, reluctant to leave. “Are you sure you’ll be OK out here?” He didn’t want to invite her back into his office, not until he knew what the problem was. “I can have someone take you home if you’d rather.”

Jacqueline shook her head. “I like it here.” Purgatory had an unfettered air, something similar to the feeling she’d had at the masked ball she’d attended last year, only with a decidedly edgier feel.

Devil nodded, signaling to John. “Get my wife anything she wants.”

“Of course, sir.” John smiled at Jacqueline.
 

Devil took his wife’s hands, drawing her fingers to his mouth. “I will see you shortly, and we can pick up where we left off.”

Jacqueline’s breath hitched at the warm press of lips against the back of her fingers. Devil’s mouth lingered, and his eyes rolled up to watch her face. His gaze was hot with a promise of something more to come.

Jacqueline watched Devil slip around the bar and disappear into his office. A moment later, she caught sight of Moose heading in the same direction. He caught her watching and waved.

“Can I get you another glass of champagne?”

“Hm?” Belatedly, Jacqueline realized John had asked her a question.

“Another glass of champagne?”

“I think the lady could use something a bit stronger.”

Jacqueline’s gaze snapped to the stranger sitting on the stool beside her. Previously blocked by her husband, she hadn’t seen him sitting there. “I beg your pardon. Do I know you, sir?”

“No, but I know you, Lady Edwards.”

Jacqueline flushed, her cheeks growing hot. “I prefer Mrs. Jacqueline Radcliffe. And you are?”

“Eddington. Marcus Eddington.”

CHAPTER TEN

“This had better be important.” Devil strode into his office and closed the door behind him. Finn stood waiting, warming his arse in front of the fire.

“I wouldn’t have interrupted otherwise.” Despite the seriousness of the matter, Finn couldn’t keep the smirk from his face. “You and the new Mrs. seem to be getting to know each other rather well.”

Devil glared.

“Hey boss.” Moose stuck his head in. “You wanted to see me?”

After leaving Jacqueline, Devil had grabbed a steward, sending for Moose and ensuring his wife would be watched over.
 

“Come in and close the door.”

Moose ambled in, taking a seat on the couch. “I saw Lady J; she seemed to be having a good time.”

Devil searched the big man’s face, but Moose lacked Finn’s signature sarcasm, and there wasn’t anything to suggest he was referring to the kiss Devil had shared with his wife. “I think she likes Purgatory.”

“I think she likes you,” Finn said, rocking forward on the balls of his feet.
 

Devil ignored him, dropping down into the chair behind his desk. “Where’s the trouble?”

“One of the whorehouses caught fire.”

Devil swore. There wasn’t much he feared—but fire? A blaze could take out the whole of Devil’s Acre before burning itself out. “Which one?”

“The Rose.”

Finn had to look away. The Rose was the first brothel Devil bought; it was also the one his mother had worked and where the man himself had been born.

“How—” Devil stopped and cleared his throat to try again. “How bad?”

“Bad. Several of the girls are missing, and it looks like only a few of the customers made it out.”

“Do we know how it started?”
 

Finn shook his head. They may never know.
 

Devil hadn’t been back in years, not since his mother died. The Rose wasn’t exclusive, but it was clean and the whores free from disease. He’d spent the first eight years of his life there, coming to understand exactly what his mother did early on.

She never apologized for her life, or his. She once told him that she had all the power because she had the thing most men wanted. And she always made them pay.

“Where’s Jade?” Devil’s voice was thick. Jade didn’t just oversee the Petal & Thorn. She managed all the whores in Devil’s Acre, including a few that preferred working the streets.

“She’s there now.”

Devil nodded. Jade would have known the girls, and any regulars they may have had. She would be the best one to assess the damage, and she knew to report back.

“There’s more.” Finn slid his hands into his pockets, watching as Devil’s face darkened. “Our shipment from Barber was hit.”

Devil absorbed the hit silently. Once a month, he took possession of a shipment of goods brought in through Kent. The brandy went to Purgatory, but the lace and other goods were to be sold to the merchants who, in turn, sold them to the residents of Devil’s Acre. The cost of doing business with the smugglers was considerably cheaper than the cost of doing business with the Crown, if no less risky.

Finn resisted the urge to shiver. Devil’s eyes had gone hard, emerald chips of ice pinning him in place. “Tom and Jimmy went to pick up the packet, but Barber’s man was dead and everything destroyed.”
 

“They didn’t take anything?”
 

Finn shook his head. The barrels had been busted open and the brandy left to spill onto the ground. Fire had done the rest.

Thieves Devil could understand; the contraband was worth a considerable sum. An enterprising man could pick up the packet at the cost of one man’s life and earn himself some coin selling it direct to the customers.
 

But destruction made no sense.

“Has there been word from Barber?”

“No.”
 

“There will be.” Devil sighed. That wasn’t a visit he was looking forward to. Barber would want to know what happened when his man didn’t return with payment.