The devil doctor *Completed*

Mortified

*Wicky*

Mortified, I know the heat scorching me now has nothing to do with passion. Billy calmly lifts his head. “Excuse us, but she’ll need a moment.”

A moment? Dear Goddess, I’ll need the remainder of my life to get past the humiliation of being caught sprawled over my desk with a man who is not my husband licking at my flesh. I’m vaguely aware of the snick of the door closing.

Very slowly, very carefully, as though I were delicate crystal that could easily shatter, Billy places his hands beneath my back and helps me sit up. Then closing his arms around me, he holds me near, and I bury my face against his chest.

How can his heart beat so methodically when mine is jumping all around, bouncing off my ribs?

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Billy says quietly. “Although you might instruct your butler that he needs to knock before entering.”

I nod jerkily. “I want to die.”

“Wicky, you are not at fault here. The fault is mine for being unable to resist your charms.” He tucks his finger beneath my chin and tilts my head back until he is gazing into my eyes. “Invite me to dinner.”

I blink up at him, “Dinner?”

“Yes, you know. That meal that takes place in the evening, a few hours before bedtime.” He says with a grin.

“Are you not at all embarrassed by being caught?” I ask.

“I’ve been caught for worse offenses, and there’s no punishment to be had here except for the abrupt ending to something that I was enjoying immensely.” He gives me a wicked smile. “I’ll promise to behave this evening if it’ll put you at ease.”

As wrong as it is, I’m not certain I want him to behave. Still, I nod. “Yes, please join me for dinner.”

“I’ll be here at half past seven.” Leaning in, he takes my mouth hotly, but swiftly, before giving me a seductive wink and grin. “Now button up.”

As he begins striding from the room, I slide off the desk and begin to do as he suggested.

*Evangeline*

I pace the hallway just outside the door to Wicky’s study. The butler’s announcement of my arrival is only a formality he insists upon. I know my friend will always be at home to me, as does the butler, so I merely followed him into the study.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by what greeted me. Billy Grimley might be a respected physician, but he is also a man, a man whose friendship with my husband was forged during their youth. I know the upbringing they’d had and their dislike of convention. But Wicky has always been so terribly proper.

But then so had I upon a time. Scoundrels tend to have their way.

The door to the study opens. Grimley closes it behind him and acknowledges me. “My Luna.” Then, with long strides, he carries on down the hallway as though that were sufficient.

I hurry after him. “What the devil were you doing in there?” I demand.

He spins around, and I’m taken aback by the anger burning in his blue eyes. “If you have to ask then Claybourne is not the man I thought he was.”

Obviously he’d not appreciated being interrupted, but the truth is that there should have been nothing going on to interrupt. “I know very well what you were doing. I was asking why you were doing it.”

“I was doing as ordered, ensuring that the Luna would want to keep me close.” He says.

I take a step forward. “You cannot toy with her affections.”

“You can’t have it both ways, my Luna. Either you tell her why she needs to have someone watching over her or I provide her with a reason to want to keep me near.”

“And when the reason no longer exists?” I ask.

“We’ll deal with the aftermath. I promise it won’t be worse than a hangman’s noose.”

Spinning on his heel, he strides toward the door. I want to call after him, want to demand more of him, that he not hurt Wicky. But the only way to ensure that is to do as he suggested: tell Wicky the truth.

My friend would despise me. She might even decide that Riverdale should be welcomed home. Then all will be for naught. She would again be at the mercy of a brute. And those who have been involved in his false demise could very well be introduced to prison or, as Grimley implied, the hangman’s noose.

I’ve worked too hard to protect Wicky from Riverdale to see it all undone now. All I can do is hope that we are mistaken about the man being about.