Page 18 of The Devil’s Bargain (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life #2)

18

The Devil’s Past

T he evening paper sat between them at dinner, its presence as unwelcome as an uninvited guest. Caroline had been reading an article when her slight exclamation caught Devlin’s attention.

“Something interesting?” he asked.

“Nothing of consequence.” But her fingers lingered on the page, and Devlin caught a glimpse of the headline: “Findlay’s Latest Innovation Revolutionises Steam Power.”

“Is that about Thomas Findlay?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “You never mentioned how you knew him.”

“He’s an old friend,” she said, averting her gaze.

“Is that all?” When she hesitated, Devlin felt his muscles tense, preparing for a blow he somehow knew was coming.

She fidgeted with the paper for a moment before answering, “We had an understanding, an arrangement if you will, for a short time.”

The admission hit him like a physical strike. Blood roared in his ears as possessive fury clawed through his chest. His expression must have betrayed his rage because Caroline leaned back as if to distance herself from him.

“You were lovers?” Each word dripped venom. “And you had him witness our wedding?”

“It didn’t mean anything.” Her chin lifted in that stubborn way he usually found charming. Now it only stoked his anger.

“Which? Our wedding or your affair?”

“Why are you acting this way?” Colour flooded her cheeks. “You forced me into this marriage. You don’t have the right to be angry about anything related to the wedding.”

“I have the right to be a jealous husband!”

“Our affair meant nothing. It was a long time before you and I met. What’s causing this ire?”

“I don’t share what’s mine!”

“I am not yours!” she exclaimed with her fists clenched at her sides.

He leaned toward her, his control slipping. “Which infuriates me even more. And the thought of you still maintaining such a close connection with this man—”

“There is nothing between us now.” She stood her ground despite her obvious nervousness. “We’re friends, nothing more. He helps me with research, engineering, since I never had advanced education. He was my only ally for a long time.”

“Now you have me, so you don’t need him!” Devlin moved closer, searching her face with desperate intensity. “Were you ever in love with him? Do you love him still?”

“No.” Her voice softened. “I was lonely, that’s all. There was respect between us. I didn’t love him then and I certainly don’t love him now.”

Her words should have soothed him, but the image of Findlay kissing her, touching her, made his blood boil. “You are not to speak to him again.”

“What? Devlin, be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable. If I weren’t, I’d have him killed.” He rose to his feet.

“You beast!” She actually stomped her feet in frustration. “You can’t force me to abandon the only friendship I have besides Flo!”

“One friend is sufficient!” He barely recognised his own voice. “If that is not enough, make all the female friends you desire!”

“Devlin!”

“This conversation is finished.” He turned away before he said something truly regrettable. “I’ll speak to my contacts about the water works industry. We’ll discuss this at dinner.”

“In the study,” she snapped. “Strictly for business. I won’t spend one moment more in your company than necessary!”

“Perfect! You’re beginning to give me a headache!”

Devlin marched over to his study and slammed the door behind him with enough force to rattle the windows. He stood in the sudden silence, his hands clenched at his sides, wrestling with an emotion he wasn’t ready to name. Jealousy he could admit to. But this bone-deep need to erase every trace of another man’s touch from her memory... that was more unacceptable.

The tension lingered through the evening, following them up the stairs when bedtime arrived. Devlin entered her chamber as was their custom over the past few nights, but tonight felt different. The air crackled with unspoken words.

Caroline sat at her vanity, brushing her hair with sharp, angry strokes. The copper and red strands caught the lamplight, reminding Devlin of flames. How appropriate, he thought, when she had the power to burn him so thoroughly.

“Did he make you happy?” The question escaped before he could stop it.

She stilled. “Why are you obsessed about him?”

“Because I need to know.” He moved behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Did he give you what I can’t? Trust? Freedom? Was he a good lover?”

“You’re being ridiculous.” She set down her brush with care. “Thomas and I were brief. A moment of connection during a lonely time.”

“Yet you defend him still.”

“I am five and thirty, for Heaven’s sake. I defend my right to have a past.” She turned to face him, eyes flashing. “To have made my own choices before you forced your way into my life.”

“It’s what guttersnipes do, isn’t it? Take what they want because they’ve never been given anything freely.”

Something in his tone made her pause. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” He turned away, but not before she caught something raw in his expression. “Forget I spoke.”

“Devlin.” Her voice softened slightly. “What did you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He moved toward the bed. “We’re what we are. I’m a blackguard, and you’re my victim. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

“Tell me.” When he remained silent, her voice hardened. “If you expect me to share your bed, you at least owe me an explanation.”

For a long moment, he stood motionless. Then, “My mother left when I was four. Just walked away one morning, never looked back. Father said it was because I was too much trouble. Too demanding. Too... unlovable.”

Caroline’s hand flew to her heart as if to protect his.

“He drank himself to death within the year. Left me alone on the streets, fighting for scraps with the other rats.” His laugh was bitter. “So you see, I learned early that if you want something, you take it. No one gives anything freely to creatures like me.”

“Devlin—”

“No.” He turned back to her, his eyes hard but haunted. “Don’t pity me. I built myself up from nothing. Became someone even my mother would regret abandoning. And when I saw you, I knew I had to have you. Even if it meant taking you like the guttersnipe I am.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with pain.

Finally, Caroline spoke softly. “You’re wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

“About being unlovable.” She stood, moving toward him. “Your actions were wrong. But you’re not unlovable. Just... broken. Like so many of us.”

A faint smile appeared at his lips. His arm then circled around her waist and pulled her soft body against the solid planes of his.

“I believe you’ve begun to see me as a man and not just the devil, Mrs Elmstone.”

“One attempt at kindness doesn’t change anything,” she whispered. “You’re still the worst kind of man.”

“Truly?” His thumb traced her bottom lip. “Then why are you not pushing me away?”

When his mouth claimed hers, she told herself she allowed it only to toy with him, to have power over him.

But there was nothing calculated about how her body melted into his, how her lips parted beneath the insistent pressure of his tongue. He tasted of brandy and desire, and something darker that made her head spin.

He carried her onto the bed, laying her down close to the edge. Her skirts rustled as he stepped between her thighs. “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined this?” he breathed against her throat. “How many nights I’ve lain awake thinking about making you come apart in my arms?”

“Devlin...” His name emerged as a broken plea as his teeth grazed her pulse point.

“Say it again,” he demanded roughly. “I love how my name sounds on your lips when you’re desperate for my touch.”

She should have been outraged by his presumption. Instead, she found herself arching into his hand as it slid up her thigh. “Please...”

“Please what?” His fingers traced maddening patterns on her skin through her stockings. “Tell me what you want, my brilliant Caroline.”

“I want...” But coherent thought scattered as his hand slipped higher, finding the sensitive flesh above her garter.

“Your body betrays you,” he murmured, his fingers discovering her wetness. “So responsive, so eager, even as you pretend to hate me.”

She caught his wrist, stilling his motion. “I do hate you.”

“No.” He pressed his forehead to hers, his voice roughening. “You hate that you want me. You hate that I can make you feel like this. But you don’t hate me.”

“You’re insufferably arrogant—”

She swallowed her protest when he exposed her breast and his mouth cupped her tight nub. She couldn’t stifle her moan as he played her body like a maestro, each touch precisely calibrated to drive her mad with need. Her hands clutched his shoulders as his tongue licked her flesh wickedly, pleasure coiling tighter in her core.

His groan rumbled through her chest as her fingers found her bud and began rubbing. His hands grasped her breasts, her ass, his teeth grazing her tight nipples. Then he opened his falls and freed his member, wrapping his long fingers around his thick girth with a sigh of relief.

Nudging her fingers away, his tongue moved wickedly against her swollen bud while his hand stroked his cock. His tongue was hot against her cunny, her hips rocking rhythmically against his mouth. She knew how to find her pleasure, and that seemed to please him. Her breathing and moans became more erratic as his groans reverberated through her silken depth.

“That’s it,” he breathed against her pussy. “Let go for me. Show me how beautiful you are when you surrender.”

The word ‘surrender’ pushed her over the edge. She shattered against his mouth, his name a broken cry on her lips as waves of pleasure washed over her. He followed shortly after, looming over her as he stroked profusely and spent on her belly. With a guttural sound of release from deep in his chest, Devlin lurched forward, one hand supporting himself on the bed while the other squeezed the last drop of orgasm from his rod.

When awareness returned, Caroline’s head was somehow cradled against his chest, his heart thundering beneath her cheek. The intimacy of the moment scared her more than the passion had.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she repeated.

His laugh rumbled through his chest. “Keep telling yourself that, my love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple that seemed to signify their marriage more than what had come before. “But we both know everything has already changed.”

As she watched him leave the bed chamber to return to his study, Caroline realised with growing dismay that he was right. Everything had changed, and there was no going back.

Caroline sat alone in her bed, arms wrapped around herself. His revelation about his childhood had cracked something in her carefully constructed hatred. But understanding his pain didn’t erase her own. Knowing why he’d forced her into marriage didn’t make it right. She lay down, pulling the covers tight around her, trying to ignore how cold and large the bed felt without his presence.