Page 35 of The Devil's Pawn

Oh, dearest husband, payback is a bitch.

There’s nothing I want for myself, and I hate wasting money, even if Alexander and his family have enough to clear third world debt and send the poorest people in England on a round-the-world luxury cruise. But rich people are often among the stingiest in society. Especially those in high society like the De Vils. Rumor has it that the King of England is so frugal he never puts the heating on.

A plan starts to form—one where I can do good and teach my husband a valuable lesson along the way.

I rub my hands together, wickedness and delight racing through me.Alexander De Vil, you messed with the wrong woman.

After taking out the black credit card from where I’d stored it in my nightstand drawer, I turn it over in my hand. Even this piece of plastic has the De Vil crest stamped on the top right-hand corner, with Alexander’s name printed in gold.

I wake up my phone and navigate to Google. The first thing I type in is “Local Women’s Shelter”, then hit return.

The search returns a ton of results, but after I’ve sifted through a few, I find what I’m looking for. I open the website, locate the contact page, and note the details. Returning to Google, the next thing I search is children’s hospitals, then food banks, then youth services. By the time I’ve finished, I’ve got two pages of notes filled with the details of severalworthy causes.

The first call is to the shelter.

“Hi,” I say. “I wonder if I might speak with the person responsible for receiving donations.”

Several hours later, I’ve got the information I need from everyone on my list. I hit the online stores and begin shopping. I’ve no idea how much I’m racking up, and I don’t care. I’m having too much fun to stop. I feel like a fairy godmother, sprinkling joy and much-needed resources to those most in need.

And all at Alexander’s expense.

Vengeance doesn’t get better than this.

The sun is already dipping below the horizon when I drop my phone on the bed and hug my knees to my chest. A solid day’s work indeed, and all courtesy of my beloved. I even sent a sizable donation to Zenith. Maybe that will buy me a little credit with them, just in case it takes me more than three months to get out of this marriage.

When I think about Alexander’s reaction to my spending spree, I can’t help laughing. He’ll befuriousonce he discovers what I’ve done, and I don’t care one bit. I feel so much better than if I’d bought a closet full of designer clothes and shoes for myself. It’s true what they say that doing something for others less fortunate gives a shot of endorphins. I could take on the world right now.

A loud grumble reminds me I haven’t eaten all day, and even though the last thing I want to do is come across Alexander, hunger forces me from my rooms. If I do come into contact with him, I’ll use some of those endorphins to give him another piece of my mind. I’ll also be ready for him if he tries to pull another stunt like last night.

I’d happily make myself something to eat, but as I haven’t found a single kitchen in this place—although I’d venturethere are several—I call Maisie and ask her if she wouldn’t mind making me a sandwich. She insists on something more filling, so I make my way to the dining room.

By the time I get there, Maisie has already produced the goods. Salmon with hollandaise sauce, baby potatoes sprinkled with fresh parsley, and the tastiest purple-headed broccoli. It’s worthy of savoring, but I’m far too hungry to take my time over it. When she brings me a sponge dessert covered in custard, I fall on that, too, even when she tells me it’s calledSpotted Dick.Sounds like a venereal disease, but it’s heaven on my tongue.

I’ve no sooner dropped my spoon in the bowl and sat back, rubbing my stomach, when Alexander’s arrival shatters my peace.

He stands in the doorway, glowering at me. Aware it won’t meet his approval, I run my finger around the bowl and scoop up the last of the custard. Sliding my finger inside my mouth, I lick it off.Brat mode activated.

God, I love provoking him. Maybe it’s the way his amber eyes flare, or his hands fist, or that vein pops in his forehead that gives me such a rush. Regardless, it’s all part of my plan.

“Where have you been all day?”

His voice has an unusual rasp to it, and he can’t take his eyes off my finger as I pop it from my mouth. I sweep it around the side of the bowl a second time, looking at him while I do it. A faint blush creeps over his aristocratic cheekbones, and he tilts his head back ever so slightly. When my finger pops out a second time, his gaze lingers on my lips, and his tongue darts out to dampen his own.

Heat races up my spine, and goosebumps explode across the back of my neck and down my arms. I force myself to stay still, even though his burning amber eyes make me want towriggle and fidget. Fluttering sensations fill my chest, and my heart is pounding so fast, he must be able to hear it.

It’s a contest of wills between us, and I refuse to be the one to bend first. I may not have tons of experience, but I know enough to recognize attraction when I see it. If I was brave enough, I’d check out his crotch area, but I keep my gaze above chest level. It’s safer that way. I wouldn’t want him to think I was interested in him sexually, because I’m not.

I’m not.

“I don’t take kindly to being ignored, Imogen.”

“And I don’t take kindly to demands. If you rephrase your question with a little more humility and a little less aggression, you might get an answer.”

I’m treading a thin line and, at any second, the floor could crumble beneath my feet. I’ve seen what Alexander is capable of when challenged, yet even with that knowledge, I can’t help but keep pushing and pushing until I get a reaction.

Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan.

He takes several deep breaths. It’s fascinating to watch him struggle to bring himself under control. His entire demeanor tells me that Alexander De Vil isn’t used to being challenged… by anyone. Too bad. I’m not backing down.

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