Page 51 of The Devil's Pawn

“That’s Loris Winslow. Or, to give him his official title, the seventeenth Earl of Montford. Not that he ever uses it. Decent chap. He runs a private security firm,Intrepid.”

I give Loris Winslow the once over. He’s stunning to look at, but far too bulky for my tastes.

“Hey.” Tobias nudges me. “Don’t let your husband catch you checking out another guy.”

I laugh, but it’s tinged with acrimony. “I doubt he’d notice.”

“Oh, he’d notice.”

I signal my disagreement with a shrug. “Who’s that with the earl?”

“That’s his wife Destiny. She’s a concert pianist. Worth catching one of her shows. Maybe ask Alexander to take you.”

“Take her where?” The deep baritone of my husband sounds behind me. I stiffen when he grips my elbow.

“To the theater,” Tobias says.

“I don’t think so. A word, wife.”

Leading me away from his brother, he guides me to a quiet corner and crowds me, his body imposing, his amber eyes aflame, his scent overpowering.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I gaze at him with a disgusted expression. “Right now? I’m suffocating.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Don’t test me, Imogen.”

“Test you? I’m replying to your question, Alexander. If the answer isn’t what you were looking for, perhaps you need to articulate yourself better.”

He’s planning my murder; it’s written all over his face. I bet he gets that Patrick guy to do it, or maybe he’ll do it himself. But I won’t back down. He hurt me earlier. Now it’s my turn to land a blow or two of my own. It’s his fault I’m feeling stabby.

“I mean with Tobias,” he says, teeth clenched.

“Oh, I see.” I nod sagely. “I can understand why two people having a normal conversation is confusing to you. It’s not something you’ve had much practice in.”

“That was not conversation.”

“No? Do enlighten me, then.”

“You were flirting.”

I throw back my head and laugh. “If you say so.”

He moves his arm so fast it’s a blur. Clamping his large hand around my throat with enough pressure to convey his feelings, he whispers, “Don’t push me, Imogen.”

I grip his fingers, trying, and failing, to peel them away. “So what if I was flirting? What’s it to you? You’re not interested in me.”

“He’s mybrother.”

“Oh, right. So, the problem is me flirting with a family member. Gotcha. Well, lucky for me, there’s a ton of suitable candidates. Maybe that Donovan guy is around here somewhere. I bet he won’t mind joining me in a little flirting.”

Alexander’s nostrils flare, my aim dead on. Good.

“If you go near Donovan or any other man, I will chain you to your bed, and you won’t see another soul until you’ve learned how to show your husband some respect.”

“I’ve told you before, respect is earned, not demanded.”

His grip on my throat tightens, his eyes flashing with a mixture of desire and rage. His breathing changes, becoming shallower. Butterflies flood my abdomen, and the space between my legs aches. He leans in closer until our breaths mingle. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me, and my lips automatically part. I want him to kiss me, to prove to me that he wants me.

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