The Bride of Devil's Acre (16 page)

Devil sat back, crossing his legs at the ankles and lacing his fingers behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling, grateful once again that he’d rejected the artist’s suggestion to paint it with the image of Aphrodite.
 

This wasn’t a coincidence. One, maybe two things going wrong was a coincidence. Three was sabotage.

“Any chance the fire was set?”

Finn jerked, and the look on his face told Devil he’d never considered the possibility. “Aye, I suppose, but…”

“First Tom and Jimmy, then the fire at the Rose and now this. Somebody is out to destroy me.” And everything Devil had worked years to build.

“Who?” Finn asked, incredulous.

“It could be anyone.” Devil had made a number of enemies fighting his way up off the streets. Most of them were dead, but there were a few still out there who would love to see him fall.

“Anyone in particular you’ve pissed off lately?”

“Not counting you?”

Finn grinned. “Aye, but that’s business as usual.”

Devil scrubbed at his face. Glancing at the clock on the mantle, he realized the hour had grown late, and his wife was waiting. “Spread the word. I want to know if someone out there is coming after me. In the meantime, how many other brothels do we have in Devil’s Acre?” The Petal & Thorn was Devil’s flagship brothel, catering to a very exclusive clientele. But there were other, more affordable brothels, and Lady Jade managed them all.

“Six, not counting the Rose.”
 

Not counting the Rose
. Should he rebuild? Or lay the past to rest among the building’s ashes? “Double the protection on each.”

“You think whoever this is, he might try going after the others?” Finn glanced at the door leading to Purgatory. Annie was busy working next door at the Petal & Thorn. It might be worth taking the five minutes to go and check on her.

“I don’t want to take any chances,” Devil said, but it was just a precaution. He didn’t think his enemy’s choice was by chance. The man had chosen well, hitting Devil on a personal as well as a professional level when he destroyed the Rose.
 

“Should we move ‘em?”

“No, I plan on finding this bastard and taking care of him long before that becomes necessary.”

“Eddington, Marcus Eddington.”
 

Jacqueline offered Marcus her hand. “The Earl of Chester.”

Marcus smiled. “I see you’ve heard of me, my lady.”

Who hadn’t? Lord Eddington was known for high-stakes gaming and a preference for married women.
 

“As I said, I prefer Mrs. Jacqueline Radcliffe,” Jacqueline said, tentatively slipping her fingers in Lord Eddington’s hand. His grip was surprisingly firm and dry, a no-nonsense handshake that didn’t match his reputation.

“Eschewing your father’s name and your mother’s title? I like that!” Marcus’ smile was mischievous, his eyes bright as he signaled to the barkeep. “Whiskey, for me and the lady.”

Jacqueline watched John pour them each a generous measure of the strong liquor.

“Leave the bottle,” Marcus ordered. Lifting his glass, he toasted his new drinking companion. “To the bride of Devil’s Acre!”

Jacqueline blinked, sipping slowly as Lord Eddington tossed back his drink.
The bride of Devil’s Acre.
It had a certain ring to it, and she had to admit, she kind of liked it.

“What brings you here, Lord Eddington?”

“Please, if you’re going to give up all ties to the illustrious
haut ton
, allow me to do the same.” Marcus poured himself another drink, eyeing the rim carefully so as not to spill. This wasn’t his first drink of the evening. It wasn’t even his first bottle. “If we’re going to be friends, then you must call me Marcus.”

“Are we going to be friends?” Jacqueline asked, shaking her head as Marcus offered to refill her glass.

“I surely hope so.” Marcus examined the bottom of his glass, swirling the amber liquor gently before tossing it back. “I don’t know about you, but I could certainly use a friend right now.”

Jacqueline stared down the bar at Marcus. Belatedly, she realized his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Definitely not,” Marcus snorted. “I find my own problems to be rather dull topics of conversation. I’d rather talk about you. How did you come to be the devil’s bride?”

“If you know who I am, then you know exactly how that happened.” Jacqueline took another sip, the whiskey burning a not unpleasant trail of fire down her throat. The heat settled into the pit of her stomach, spreading out to her limbs slowly. Another sip, and her fingertips started to tingle.

“Yes, I suppose I do.”

The two considered each other, neither one willing to discuss the events that had brought them to Purgatory.

“Then shall we agree that our friendship going forward should be based on future endeavors?” Jacqueline felt the liquor start to loosen her joints, mixing with the charged air of the club to make an intoxicating concoction that was more potent than the parts.
 

“Such as?” Marcus liked Jacqueline Radcliffe. Yes, he did. It was just too bad she was married to Devil. If there was one man Marcus was unwilling to cuckold, it was the devil himself.
 

“We are in Purgatory,” Jacqueline said, lifting her hands to take in their surroundings. “It seems a shame not to sin.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Where’s my wife?”
 

John wiped down the bar, nodding his head toward the gaming tables. “She’s been at it for a while.”

Devil turned in time to watch his wife collect her latest winnings, the movement lifting her out of her seat and offering him an enticing glimpse of her backside. He recalled their earlier kiss, and his promise to pick up where they left off.
 

It was time to make good on his word.

The hair on the back of Jacqueline’s neck prickled. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught sight of her husband. Devil stalked across the room, his long legs eating up the distance as he came for her.
 

And he
was
coming for her.
 

The heat in those green eyes told her as much, never leaving her face. A shiver of excitement raced up Jacqueline’s spine. Banked anticipation flared to life, and her breath hitched.
 

“Place your bets,” the dealer called.

Jacqueline barely heard him.

“Lady J?”

Jacqueline tore her gaze away from her husband. The dealer was waiting, one brow raised in polite inquiry. The rest of the table waited as well, Marcus sprawled in the chair beside her, a glass of brandy at his elbow.
 

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. You’ll have to continue without me,” Jacqueline said, scooping up her winnings and standing. She could feel her husband getting closer, the power of him rolling across the room in a wave that threatened to crash down on her and sweep her under.

“Leaving so soon?” Marcus asked. Mrs. Jacqueline Radcliffe had turned out to be a delightful surprise. A bit of a light drinker, perhaps, but next to Marcus most people were. “I thought we had some sinning to do.”

“Another time.”

“What’s your rush?” Marcus’ smile suggested he’d seen Jacqueline’s husband and knew the reason for her hasty departure.

“Are you ready?” Devil stepped up to the table. A nod from him, and the steward he’d assigned to watch his wife moved away discreetly.
 

“Well, if it isn’t the devil himself,” Marcus drawled. He liked Devil, respected the man and all he’d accomplished. The marriage to the former Lady Edwards was a bit of a surprise. Marcus would have bet money the man wasn’t the marrying kind.
 

“Eddington.”

“You two know each other?” Jacqueline’s eyes darted back and forth between Marcus and her husband. She detected a bit of tension, and Devil’s stance bordered on aggressive.

“I make it a point of knowing all of my important members.” He’d never had any trouble with Eddington. It was up for argument which vice the man engaged in more frequently, drinking or gambling, but he paid his debts and the whores never complained.
 

“I’m honored you consider me worthy of such attention.”
 

Jacqueline watched Marcus smile; his eyes, she noticed, held a mischievous light. She got the sense he was teasing her husband, experiencing a joke at Devil’s expense that Devil wouldn’t appreciate.

“I was just enjoying a lovely evening with your wife.”

“I can see that.” Eddington’s penchant for married ladies was well-known, his fondness for their husband’s less so.
 

Jacqueline stepped toward Devil and reaching for his arm. Jiggling the chips in her hand, she drew her husband’s attention to her face. “It appears I can repay the house for my earlier losses.”

Devil’s smile finally reached his eyes. “I thought you didn’t like to gamble.”

“As you said, it’s all about fun, and Marcus and I were just having fun.”

“Is that all it was?” Devil asked, his voice pitched low. He was surprised to find he didn’t like the idea of his wife enjoying another man’s company. Her flushed face and excited smiles should be reserved for him.

“That’s all.” Jacqueline smiled, dropping her chips into Devil’s hand. It pleased her, this bit of possessiveness she was seeing. “Will you keep these for me, until next time?”

Devil nodded, dropping the chips into his pocket. “I’ll see that an account is opened for you. You can come and play any time.”

“Shall we go home, then?” she asked. Jacqueline couldn’t stop her cheeks from heating.
 

Devil enjoyed his wife’s blush, the suggestion adding an attractive pink to her cheeks.
 

Marcus sat sprawled in his chair, watching the newly wed couple. It was all rather charming, and perhaps a little bit romantic: the ruined young lady and the enterprising businessman. But Marcus wasn’t sure he believed in happy endings, and despite the sparks he saw arching between the two of them, they were worlds apart.
 

Marcus pushed to his feet, carefully steadying himself on the table. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Devil said, automatically shaking the hand that was offered. “And thank you for looking after my wife.”

Marcus nodded. “It was my pleasure.”

Jacqueline rolled her eyes at Marcus’ suggestive purr. The man had a reputation as a rake, but he had been the perfect gentleman.
 

“I can only hope for another such opportunity in the future.”

Devil led Jacqueline through Purgatory. Outside, he hired a hack, helping his wife up before taking a seat next to her as the carriage lurched into motion.
 

“Now, where were we?” Devil said, reaching for his wife. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her to him. His wife gasped, her hands braced on his chest but not pushing him away as he captured her mouth in a kiss.

Power, passion…strength electrified his kiss, filling Jacqueline’s belly with heat. His mouth was punishing, demanding that she open up and surrender to him. There was no thought of fighting. She submitted to her husband and his kiss.

She tasted of whiskey.

He tasted of sin.

The motion of the carriage jostled the couple, throwing them closer together. Devil was tossed back against the bench, his wife’s body forming to his frame. She was all soft, generous curves beneath his hands, her body flowing over his hard edges.

Jacqueline tilted her head, deepening the kiss. Her husband may have started this, but she wasn’t just along for the ride. Gliding past his lips, she tasted him, saturating her senses with his unique flavor.
 

Beneath her hands, his chest heaved. Everything about him was hard, from the wide expanse of his chest crushing her breast to his arousal trapped between them.
 

A thrill of desire speared Jacqueline in the gut. Her belly quivered, and a rush of excitement washed over her at the obvious sign of her husband’s desire.
So much power
, she thought, feeling Devil pulse beneath her.

Devil groaned, his hips lifting as his wife moved closer, putting pressure against his already straining member. She nearly undid him, surrendering to him without hesitation.
 

The motion of the carriage rolling to a stop caught Devil’s attention. They were home.
 

Reluctantly, Devil broke the kiss, lifting his head and staring down into his wife’s face. Male satisfaction swelled his chest at her slightly dazed look. It would seem his wife was almost as affected by the kiss as he was.

“Why’d you stop?” Jacqueline asked, her gaze dropping to her husband’s mouth.
Wickedly sinful
. That’s how she would describe his lips, and his kiss.

His wife’s husky whisper was a caress across his skin. “We’re home,” he told her. It was a reminder to himself, as well. All he had to do was get them inside. Then he would take the time to enjoy his wife’s charms—every single one of them.
 

Jacqueline looked around. The carriage was stopped, and the driver waited for them to disembark. Outside, the gothic beauty she now shared with her husband sat silhouetted against the blue-black sky. The street was empty but not silent. Night sounds filled the air with a unique symphony.

Devil didn’t give his wife a chance to collect herself. Jumping down from the rented hack, he reached in and gathered her in his arms, carrying her up the walk and into the house. Kicking the door closed behind him, he didn’t stop until he reached his bedroom.

Jacqueline wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, watching Devil’s face as he carried her over the threshold and up to his room. He didn’t look at her, his face in profile revealing an aquiline nose and sharp jaw.
 

Curious, Jacqueline tore her gaze from her husband’s face and glanced around, gaining her first look of his bedroom.
 

It smelled of him, the scent reminiscent of rich brandy and leather. It permeated the air, making her think her husband spent more time here than anywhere else in the house.