Midnight Star (Star Quartet 2)

“Yes, a great deal,” Del said.

Worth enough to ruin you?

“The warehouse is most impressive. Thank you for showing me through it.”

“The warehouse too is worth a great deal. It was just finished six months ago. Others will begin building on the wharf soon. Sam Brannan . . .”

Chauncey heard Sam Brannan’s plans with half an ear. I am hurting no one, she told herself yet again. No one save Delaney Saxton. Would he come to her for money, she wondered, when it was all over?

“I must go out for a while, love,” Del said, interrupting her thoughts. “I won’t be long. though.” He paused a moment, looking at her thoughtfully from beneath his lowered lashes.

Was this to be a repeat of last night? “Where are you going?” Her voice sounded shrill and she fought for control. “This time, that is.”

He cocked an interested brow at her. “Do you really wish to know?”

She ground her teeth. “Can’t you simply answer a question? No, it’s more amusing for you to taunt me! You won’t go to her again tonight, Delaney! You mustn’t! Surely you are too tired?”

“I suppose I am somewhat tired,” he said in the blandest of voices. He watched her with a mild show of interest.

Chauncey rose quickly from her chair and stamped her foot. “Did you sleep with her last night?”

Delaney sat back in his chair and studied her flushed face thoughtfully. The silence stretched long between them. “Would it bother you if I had?”

“You are my husband!”

“It pleases me that you remember.”

She wanted to scream at him, hurl her chair at his head. “You didn’t answer me, Del. Did you sleep with her last night?”

“Not much—sleep, that is. She was warm, giving . . . a woman, Chauncey. Unselfish and honest in her needs.”

Suddenly her reason for not wishing him to leave was lost in her fury. She hadn’t really expected him to admit seeing his mistress. She jerked backward, feeling disoriented. She heard her own voice, low, filled with pain. “You wouldn’t. You are not that kind of man—”

“No, I am not. It infuriates me, my dear, that you would even ask me such a question. Now that we’ve enacted this charming little scene, I’m leaving. I will be home within two hours. If you wish it, I’ll make love to you when I return.” He walked slowly to her, lifted her chin with his fingers, and studied her upturned face. “Wait up for me, love. You’ll see that I’m not too tired to see to your pleasure.”

He kissed her lightly on her mouth, turned, and left the dining room.

So he hadn?

?t visited his mistress. So what? It didn’t change a thing, damn him. Wretched elusive beast!

She was ready for him two hours later, dressed in the delicious confection of nightgown and peignoir he’d bought her for their wedding night. He will suspect nothing, she thought.

“Hello,” she said softly when he quietly entered their bedroom.

“Hello yourself,” he said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Lord, I’m tired.”

“Not too tired, I hope,” she said, trying for a seductive tone of voice.

He grinned at her. “Never too tired for you, love.”

She watched him strip off his clothes, then handed him a glass of wine. “Did you put an aphrodisiac in this?” he asked her in a teasing voice.

“No,” she said.

“To us, Chauncey.”

“To the . . . future,” she said, and sipped her wine.