Devil in Winter (Wallflowers #3)(52)

Sebastian frowned as he saw the air of friendly ease between them

“Good evening,” Evie murmured, taking a place at the table beside Sebastian. She smiled as she glanced up at him. “Are you clever with numbers, my lord?”

“I’ve always thought so,” Sebastian replied ruefully, “until now. Rohan…are the other croupiers adept with probability calculations?”

“Adept enough, my lord. They are well-trained. They all know how to tempt a player to make wagers to the house’s advantage, how to identify a good player from a bad one…”

“Trained by whom?” Evie asked.

Cam’s grin was a flash of startling white in his honey-skinned face. “By me, of course. No one understands gaming as well as I.”

Smiling, Evie glanced up at her husband. “All he lacks is confidence,” she remarked dryly.

Sebastian, however, did not react to the jest. Instead he said abruptly to Cam, “I want a list, in descending order, of all outstanding loans and their due dates. The account book is on the top shelf in the office. Why don’t you go start on it now?”

“Yes, my lord.” Giving a shallow bow to Evie, Cam left with his usual loose-limbed grace.

Standing with her husband in the cavernous, semi-darkened hazard room, Evie felt a prickle of nervousness in her stomach. Over the past few days their interactions had been frequent but impersonal, and it was seldom that they ever found themselves alone together. She leaned over the table and reached for the discarded dice, depositing them in a small leather dice box. As she straightened, she felt Sebastian’s hand skim gently over her corseted back, and the hairs on her nape lifted in response. “The hour is late,” he said, his tone far softer than the one he had used with Cam. “You should go to bed—you must be exhausted after all you’ve done today.”

“I haven’t done all that much.” She shrugged uneasily, and his hand made another slow, unnerving pass along her spine.

“Oh yes, you have. You’re pushing yourself a bit too hard, pet. You need to rest.”

She shook her head, finding it difficult to think clearly when he was touching her. “I’ve been glad of the chance to work a bit,” she managed to say. “It keeps me from dwelling on…on…”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I’ve allowed it.” His long fingers curved around the back of her neck.

Her breath shortened as the warmth of his hand transferred to her skin.

“You need to go to bed,” he continued, his own breathing not quite steady as he eased her closer. His gaze drifted slowly from her face to the round outline of her br**sts, and back again, and a low, humorless laugh escaped him. “And I need to go there with you, damn it. But since I can’t…Come here.”

“Why?” she asked, even as he secured her against the edge of the table and let his legs intrude amid the folds of her skirts.

“I want to torture you a little.”

Evie stared at him with round eyes, while her heart pumped liquid fire through her veins. “When you—” She had to clear her throat and try again. “When you use the word ‘torture,’ I’m sure you mean it in a figurative sense.”

He shook his head, his eyes filled with light smoke. “Literal, I’m afraid.”

“What?”

“My love,” he said gently, “I hope you didn’t assume that the next three months of suffering was to be one-sided? Put your hands on me.”

“Wh-where?”

“Anywhere.” He waited until she had hesitantly placed her hands on his shoulders, over the fine wool weave of his coat. Holding her gaze, he said, “As high as the fire in me burns, Evie, I will stoke it in you.”

“Sebastian…” She strained a little, and he pinned her more firmly against the table.

“It’s my right to kiss you,” he reminded her, “whenever I want, for as long as I want. That was our bargain.”

She threw an agitated glance around the room, and he read her thoughts easily.

“I don’t give a damn if anyone sees us. You’re my wife.” A smile chased across his lips. “My better half, to be certain.” Leaning over her, he nuzzled into the fine tendrils that strayed over her forehead. His breath was hot and soft on her skin. “My prize…my pleasure and pain…my endless desire. I’ve never known anyone like you, Evie.” His lips touched gently at the bridge of her nose and slid down to the tip. “You dare to make demands of me that no other woman would think of asking. And for now I’ll pay your price, love. But later you’ll pay mine…over and over…” He caught her trembling lips with his, his hands cupping the back of her head.

He was a man who loved kissing, nearly as much as he loved the act of intercourse itself. The kiss began as a gentle brush of dry, closed lips…the pressure increasing until he had gained the soft opening of her mouth…and then she felt the subtle intrusion of his tongue. Her head tippled back helplessly in the cradle of his palms, the sudden hammering of her heart sending the blood rushing through her veins, making her feel weak and hot. He took more of her, kissing her at every possible angle, searching deeply.

One of his hands eased over her front, passing lightly over her br**sts, his thumb searching in vain for the point of her nipple through the thick padding of her corset. Craving the feel of her bare skin, he moved his fingers up to her throat, stroking the rapid throb of her pulse. His mouth slid from hers and traveled along her neck until he found the tender pulse point. Evie stiffened her legs, her hands gripping his shoulders to bolster her failing balance. With a low murmur, Sebastian gathered her more firmly against his body and sought her lips again. She could no longer hold back the pleading sounds in her throat, her mouth working frantically to draw in more of his taste, more of the warm male silk of his mouth, more—