Page 82 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

You are just saying that because he licked your cunny.

Aaaannnd just like that she went from shocked to embarrassed, thanks entirely to her inner dialogue, that bitch.

What? It is true.

Yes, but it was rude to bring it up in conversation.

This is not exactly conversation though, is it? You cannot argue with yourself.

She was doing a bang-up job of it, though.

You are falling in love with Griffin because he is the first man to show you kindness. The first man to take the time to ensure your pleasure. The first man to look at you and see your interests and be proud of them.

Well…yes. Wasn’t that a worthwhile reason? Any of them. All of them.

Perhaps. How does he feel?

Griffin was only at Peasgoode because he was involved in the fight against Blackrose. And why not? The evil man killed Griffin’s wife, the mother of his children…his love. No wonder he was willing to go along with this ridiculous scheme—not to gain a dukedom, but to bring down Blackrose.

He was not the sort of man to develop feelings for a woman just because he’d licked her cunny. He’d done it out of necessity, because he’d thought that was the only way Felicity would help him on his mission.

That wasn’t true, of course, but she’d let him believe that.

And he hadn’t returned to her bed since, thinking he’d fulfilled his obligation.

She wanted him again.

She wanted him in her bed, between her legs. She wanted him in her heart.

Was that so wrong?

Perhaps not the right time for this.

Behind her, the conversation had grown stilted, and Felicity knew she didn’t have time right now for this inner argument. She would have plenty of time to debate the intelligence of chasing after Griffin tonight, when she was alone in her bed.

Right.

Right.

“Felicity? Do ye have more photographs for us?”

She plastered on a smile and turned back to the man who held the answers to finding Blackrose. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Chapter 15

Perhaps it had been cowardly to leave the gathering, but Griffin had seen his opportunity and taken it. With the Duke—excuse me, Duncan, we’re cousins, are we no’?—and Ian occupied, he would get no better chance to poke around Peasgoode.

And taking Bull with him had seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, the lad had a rare talent as a pickpocket. Perhaps he’d make a good sneak thief.

Ye’re a terrible parental figure. Encouraging the lad to try lock-picking?

Everyone needed a career. Griffin had first-hand experience with strange employment choices. Who would’ve imagined the son of a vicar growing up to live by his fists?

It was for a good cause.

Or so he’d thought.

Hands in the pockets of his trousers, trying to appear casual—and to assuage his guilt—Griffin cleared his throat as they strolled toward the Duke’s study. “So, lad, have ye given any thought to a future career path? I notice ye’re no’ attending school.”

---