Wicked and the Wallflower: Bareknuckle Bastards Book 1

Arthur had been there, of course, and Pru, along with a collection of tarnished aristocrats who had taken Felicity, Devil, and the whole of the Faircloth family under their collective wing—after all, the Duchess of Haven had pointed out at the wedding breakfast that morning—scandals must stick together.

He stole her lips in a wicked kiss that left them both breathless, and Whit grumbled, “Find a bed, will you?”

“I need you, first,” he said. “What?” He was mad. “You came back for me.” “Of course I did. I love you, you imbecile.”

“I love you,” he whispered again. “I love you. You’re my future.”

“I think he might feel guilty because of the other thing he said while he was here, Arthur.” Arthur sighed, and Felicity looked to Pru, who looked like the cat that got the cream. “What was it?” “How did he put it?” Pru asked with a smile that gave Felicity the keen sense that her sister-in-law had committed whatever Devil had said to memory. “Ah.

“He said a number of things, as a matter of fact.” Arthur looked to Pru. “Introduced himself all polite—despite the fact that he’d climbed a tree and broken in.” “He does that,” Felicity said. “Does he?” Pru asked, as though they were discussing Devil’s penchant for riding.

Unable to sleep, Felicity rose at the crack of dawn and went to her brother’s home, letting herself in through the kitchens and up into the family’s quarters, opening the door to his bedchamber to discover him still abed, kissing his wife. She immediately turned her back and raised a hand to her eyes, crying out, “Ahh! Why?”

“He seems quite important, if you ask me,” Pru interjected. No one asked you, Pru.

The words enraged Devil. Felicity was more than convenient. She was more than a pawn. “How dare you manipulate her to get to me.” Ewan raised a blond brow in his direction. “Say that again. This time, more slowly.”