Sinfully Yours (Hellions of High Street 2)

Ignoring the assertion, he rose and chose a generous selection from the breakfast offerings. “A pot of fresh coffee for the lady,” he called as he set the plate down in front of her. “And please make sure it’s dark and hot.”

The heavenly aromas of fresh-baked pastries and shirred eggs reminded Anna that she hadn’t eaten since supper, and even then, she had been too on edge to do more than pick at her meal.

“I shudder to think what you consume when you’re feeling peckish,” he murmured.

“Wretch,” she said around a forkful of creamed mushrooms. The warmth was delicious and helped to melt the tension gripping her insides. “It seems that I was hungrier than I thought.”

“That’s better. The color is returning to your face.”

Anna took a grateful gulp of the steaming coffee. “Thank you. This is divine. But we need—”

Devlin signaled her to silence. “When you are finished,” he commanded.

Bemused in spite of her worries, Anna chewed thoughtfully on a piece of sultana-studded muffin. He was watching her with a rather peculiar expression—half exasperation and half something she couldn’t quite define. “Tender” was the first word that came to mind, which was of course ridiculous. The Devil Davenport didn’t have a tender bone or sinew in his body.

Cut him and he would bleed sarcasm.

Wouldn’t he? She slanted another look at him through her lashes, suddenly feeling a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. Dare she think he might have softer sentiments hidden beneath his caustic quips? That would, of course, be asking for trouble…

No, it would be asking for heartbreak.

Anna looked down at the crumbs on her plate. Not that she had any intention of serving up her heart on a platter.

Brushing aside such conflicted musing, she popped the last morsel into her mouth. “There, I’m done. Now let us find somewhere quiet.”

“The gardens,” he suggested.

And risk encountering the murderous McClellan? “No, no, the library. At this hour it will be deserted.”

“I would argue if I thought it would do any good.” Devlin sighed. “Walls are more likely to have ears than the open air. But I agree that we should be safe enough.”

Anna led the way to a recessed alcove hidden away in the back of the Geology section of the Natural Sciences Room. “I discovered this while searching for a secluded spot to write,” she explained. “We won’t be disturbed.”

Rather than sit in one of comfortable reading chairs, Devlin perched a hip on the edge of the work table and leaned forward. The pose accentuated his long legs—he had very long legs—and broad shoulders. The muscles seemed to twitch beneath the sleek black wool of his coat, bringing to mind the uncomfortable image of a stalking panther ready to pounce.

“You,” he repeated, “have a great deal of explaining to do.”

Tender? Her wits must still be addled by the dizzying height of the narrow ledge.

“Why in the name of Hades did it take you so long to light the signal?” he went on testily. “I gave you more than the allotted time. You should have been well away before Lady de Blois returned to her chamber.”

“The signal isn’t important. Nor, for that matter, is Lady de Blois, though I did discover some very interesting evidence tucked away in the false bottom of her jewel case.”

Devlin frowned. “What are you saying?”

“That I’ve discovered the real villain behind the plot to harm Prince Gunther,” she whispered.

“Who?”

A triumphant smile. “Lord McClellan!”

To her disappointment, his expression didn’t alter on being told the momentous news.

“Explain,” he said softly.

Anna quickly recounted what she had witnessed from her window.

Still no reaction, oth