"I see." He nodded in a thoughtful manner. "It's not necessary for you to go."

Thank G.o.d. He was going to stop her.

"This is your home, you shouldn't have to leave." He drew a deep breath. "I can go to my club for the time being."

Her heart sank. "No." She shook her head. "It makes more sense for me to stay at my house, to oversee the work. You understand."

"I'm afraid so." He straightened his shoulders. "Very well then."

He was going to let her go? How could he? How could she go? But if she relented now, it was as much as saying there was nothing wrong in what he had done. How he had behaved. And worse, what he had thought of her. She had no intention of spending the rest of her life with a husband who wondered about her fidelity every time he looked at her.

Anger surged anew and she turned toward the door. Nor did she have any intention of having one of those marriages where husband and wife went their separate ways. No, she would leave him to simmer in his own guilt and remorse for a few days. Then, and only then, would she forgive him. But she would indeed forgive him eventually because no matter what else happened between them, she loved him with her whole heart and soul. She was now wagering everything she held dear that he loved her every bit as much.

She reached the door and looked back at him. "One more thing in regards to my intelligence."

"Evie, I never meant-"

"While there is not a man alive I want to be with more than you, if I ever were to have an affair, I am smart enough to make certain you never know."

He frowned. "Is that a threat?"

"No, my dear darling husband." She met his gaze firmly. "It's a promise."

She was magnificent.

In spite of the heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach, Adrian wanted to grin with the sheer delight of her. He'd seen her in the throes of pa.s.sion, but this was pa.s.sion of a different sort and she was amazing. G.o.d, he wanted her. How many men felt that way about their own wives? And she was his. His jaw tightened. And he intended to keep her.

He returned to his desk and sat down. She was right, of course, about all of it. He couldn't blame her for being angry and embarra.s.sed and hurt. He was indeed an idiot. He hadn't trusted her when he should have. He should have realized right from the beginning that she was again working for the department. Certainly she hadn't told him but then she couldn't really. And she hadn't lied to him unless one counted those irksome lies of omission. It was in his best interest not to consider those important, given all that he had never confided in her.

And he never, never should have brought up her past. He winced. Especially since he knew everything there was to know about her, right down to the names of the few lovers she had had. The department had always been thorough in investigating the backgrounds of its agents.

He pulled out the paper he'd been writing on and studied his words thus far.

My Dearest Eve, It was best that they would not share the same roof while he put his plan into effect. It would make it all much easier. As much as he had planned to ease into this seduction of words, it seemed wiser now to move quickly. He could not live without her in his house, in his bed, for long. And while Sir's efforts would be on paper, Adrian would do all he could to win his wife's forgiveness.

As stupid as he knew this deception was, it was perhaps the nature of men or the nature of love to continue under full steam straight into what could be unmitigated disaster. But he knew himself and he couldn't have this question hanging over him, hanging over them, for the rest of their lives. Until he knew for certain that her husband was the true love of her life, he would always wonder who was first in her heart. This was something she might well never forgive him for although he could argue the truth: the man who was trying to seduce her and the man she had married were one and the same. Still, she would not see it that way. Not that she would ever find out.

Unless, of course, she chose Sir. That was a bridge he would cross if he came to it.

Max was right. This was the most dangerous game he had ever played.

Chapter 12.

Celeste straddled him, pinning his arms with her legs, and clapped her hand over his mouth. Maxwell came awake at once, his body tensed beneath her, poised to throw her off.

It's me," she said to forestall his immediate reaction.

He relaxed beneath her and she removed her hand. Even in the hazy light of early dawn, she could see the gleam in his eye. "Who?"

"You know full well who." She kissed him quick and hard. "Wicked man."

"Wicked? Who is straddling whom? Not that I mind." He grinned. "This is a delightful way to awaken."

"I'm not here to delight you."

"No?" Max grabbed her and rolled over until she lay pinned beneath him, then nuzzled her neck. "Are you sure?"

She shivered. Dear Lord, the man did things to her. "I am."

"You don't sound sure." His lips murmured against her skin. "Perhaps then I should delight you."

She tried and failed to stifle a soft moan.

He chuckled. "What do you want to wager I can change your mind?"

"Goodness, Max." She did hate the breathless quality in her voice, but she didn't seem to be able to do anything about it. "I would never wager on something I am certain to lose."

"You are mad about me, you know."

I am. "Nonsense. Any woman with even a modic.u.m of sense would not be so foolish as to be anything about you, let alone mad." She pushed him away and scrambled off the bed. "I need to talk."

"First?"

She ignored him. "I don't have much time."

"We don't need much time." He grabbed her and pulled her back onto the bed. "And you always like it when we are hard and fast and eager and hungry-"

"Stop that, you annoying beast." She struggled half-heartedly against him. Unfortunately, the man was right. She did love it when he took her hard and fast. Or when she took him with a hunger only he had ever ignited in her. He made her as insatiable for him as he was for her. And they were always ready for one another. Even now, the feel of his naked body against her fully clothed one was enough to make her ache with desire.

"You don't mean that." His hands slipped under her cloak. "I suspect I can make you scream my name in-"

"Stop it at once!" She wrenched out of his arms and slid off the bed, quickly stepping out of his reach. "I need to talk to you, and you will wish to hear this."

"There's nothing I really wish to hear except the way you moan-"

"Max!"

"Very well then." He heaved a resigned sigh. "What is it?"

"You have to do something."

"I did offer to-"

"About Evelyn." She sighed. "She has left Lord W."

"What do you mean, she has left Lord W?" Max was abruptly alert.

"Just what I said. She has moved out of the house."

"Permanently?"

"Good G.o.d, I hope not, as she is now residing with me."

"Well, that is awkward."

"Isn't it, though?" She pinned him with a firm look. "And you have to do something about it."

"Why do I have to do something about it?" he said cautiously.

"Because one could easily argue that it's your fault."

His brow furrowed. "How is it my fault?"

"Admittedly, it's not entirely your fault, but some of it is. At least, it started with you." She positioned a chair closer to the bed, far enough away to be out of his reach, and sat down. She'd never noticed before how badly in need of refurbishing the chair was, but then it was usually covered with his discarded clothing or hers. "She told me everything last night right after she swept into my house with at least a dozen bags, only enough for a few days, mind you, her maid, and an additional two other servants."

"I thought it was her house," he said mildly.

"Of course it is but it's my home. And she has invaded. Which she has every right to do," she added. "She is my dearest friend and I am pleased that she turns to me but ..."

His brow rose. "But?"

"But her constant presence will be extremely inconvenient."

"Incon-" His eyes widened. "Oh, you mean for you and I?"

She glared. "It's not only about you, Max."

"I doubt that." He grinned.

"There are other things in my life, besides you, that will be complicated with Evelyn underfoot. I quite value my privacy, you know." She nodded. "And yes, it will be difficult, if not impossible, to slip away in the evening without having to lie to her. I am still trying to avoid lying."

"d.a.m.nation, I hadn't considered that." He thought for a moment. "But again, how is this my fault?"

"She confessed all to me last night." Celeste leaned closer and met his gaze. "Her manner has been different of late because of this new a.s.signment of yours. She can't get it out of her head. Not the least bit surprising really. I hadn't noticed it, but then I also knew what was afoot. At any rate, her change in manner, and apparently an encounter with Lord Radington in Lord Dunwell's library, led Lord W to a.s.sume that Evelyn was having an affair."

"Did it?" Max said in what Celeste had always thought of as his department voice. Cool, calm, and neutral. How very odd.

"I'm not sure how he discovered this, but somehow he learned that Lord Radington was meeting a woman in a room at the Langham Hotel."

"Excellent spot for tea," Max murmured.

"Not only tea apparently." Celeste nodded. "Suffice it to say that when Lord W burst in upon them, the lady he surprised with Lord Radington was not his wife but ..." She paused for effect. "Lady Dunwell."

Max laughed. "I would have liked to have seen that."

Celeste bit back a grin of her own. "I have no doubt it was most amusing unless you were one of the parties involved." She sobered. "The man has been unbelievably stupid. Evelyn naturally was upset. Furious, really, that he would think her capable of such a thing, and they had a dreadful row. The first, I think, since they married."

"And she is now residing with you."

"She's planning to refurbish my house."

"Her house," he said pointedly.

"Yes, yes. She owns the house and pays the servants. She doesn't want to sell it, and she prefers to have someone she trusts living in it rather than strangers." She got to her feet and circled the room restlessly. "I like the house the way it is." She'd paid no more attention to his one-room flat through the years than she had to his chair. She usually had other things on her mind. Glancing around now, it struck her as a typical bachelor's abode. It was large enough, which might well be the best thing one could say about it. "She spent the evening directing me to send notes to paper hangers and painters and plasterers and anyone else she could think of. I am to make certain they are delivered first thing this morning." She twisted her hands together. "She was also talking about what great fun we will have together living in the same house. We will play cards and games and attend the theater together and read aloud and ..." She shook her head. "I've never seen her this way." She stared at him. "I don't want to read aloud."

"Oh, I'm sure she won't force-"

"This was only the first night, Max. I don't even want to think what tomorrow will hold," she said darkly. "And the day after. And the day after that. You have to do something."

"What do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know but you are the head of the department. You are all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful." She paused. "Or so you would like me to believe."

"I do try," he said in a modest manner.

"And you started this. You needn't have called her back to the department."

"I had my reasons."

"Perhaps." She crossed her arms over her chest. "But she hasn't heard from you in days."

He shrugged. "There's been no need, nothing for her to do really. Not at the moment."

A thought struck her and she widened her eyes. "Can't you talk to him then?"

"To who?"

"Lord W. You know him, don't you?"

"I am acquainted with Lord Waterston." Caution underlay his words. "However, I would hardly presume to tell a man, with whom I only exchange the briefest of greetings, how to manage his wife."

"Manage?" She raised a brow. "Surely you didn't mean to say manage?"

"No, of course not." He shook his head. "Never."

"No doubt." She drew her brows together. "I'm not suggesting you tell him how to manage her. I daresay Evelyn has never been easily managed, and you, of all people, should know that."

"Evelyn is a practical woman. I am sure she will come to her senses soon."

"Maxwell! She did nothing-"

"Or rather he will come to his senses soon," he said quickly. "Accompanied by copious apologies, much groveling, begging for forgiveness, and all that."