The proclamation, issued by his brother Demon, was nothing Dom himself had not been thinking.
Devil grunted.
“We ought to slice his throat in his sleep,” Blade offered.
Dom was afraid to ask if Blade was referring to himself or to the man they were about to welcome deep into their territory for the first time. Blade was the assassin amongst them, and he was also the least enthusiastic of all Dom’s siblings concerning his new plan.
“If he dares to make a wrong move, I will beat him to a bloody pulp,” Gavin added, lifting his tremendous fists—merciless weapons in his boxing matches—in warning.
“What I cannot believe is that the lot of you intended to welcome a blackleg like Jasper Sutton to The Devil’s Spawn without me,” Genevieve said. “Especially since you invited him.”
The him Dom’s golden-haired sister referred to was none other than Devereaux Winter. Brother dearest. Spoiled, arrogant sod. And just the help they needed for what they were about to do.
Dom would not lie. Having to approach Winter with his tail betwixt his legs had bloody well stung worse than smuggled Scots whisky poured over an open wound.
“My presence is required,” Winter said mildly. “Like it or not, I am a half brother to you all.”
Devil growled.
Demon sniffed.
Gavin glared.
Blade withdrew a knife and ran his thumb down the beveled edge.
Genevieve gave an indelicate snort. “Fine half brother you are, only appearing when there is coin to be gained.”
She was dressed in her standard garb of breeches, polished boots, shirt and waistcoat, complete with a cravat. Genevieve was a dab hand at tying knots, in addition to working a needle. Though she’d deny it with her last breath.
“Calm yourself, Gen,” Dom cautioned his hot-tempered sister. “We spoke about this. Mr. Winter is aiding us when he does not need to be. He owns a property at the docks Sutton is keen to get his hands on, and he is willing to sell that to help our cause.”
“Meaning that spider-arsed scoundrel always gets what he wants,” Genevieve said, scowling.
Devereaux Winter drummed his fingers on the desk they had all gathered around. “Might I suggest you avoid calling our friend spider-arsed in his presence? What does such an insult mean, if you do not mind my asking?”
Genevieve raised a superior brow. “Have one look at Jasper Sutton, and you’ll know exactly what.”
Genevieve’s inability to control her tongue had been one of the reasons Dom and his brothers had not initially informed her about this meeting. Another had been her intense dislike for Devereaux Winter, a man whom Dom had to admit was not nearly as horrible of a nib as he’d thought. Brother dearest was actually beginning to grow on him. Much like Davy.
“I hope you can keep your minion under control today,” Demon added, as if reading Dom’s thoughts. “The little shite stole my favorite pair of boots and then tipped me the Dublin packet before I could catch him.”
Ah, young Davy. Dom was going to have to have another talk with the lad.
Devereaux Winter frowned. “What is this packet you are speaking of?”
“Here now. Tipped the Dublin packet is what we say when a thief gets away,” explained Blade, still stroking his knife.
“If he tries to filch from Jasper Sutton, he will learn his lesson, won’t he?” Genevieve chimed in.
Dom was beginning to get restless. A quick consult of his pocket watch revealed the time had drawn near to the arrival of Jasper Sutton. Ten of their best men were on the door today, awaiting the enemy’s arrival. Part of Dom was still amazed Sutton had accepted his request for a meeting.
He suspected Sutton’s decision had a great deal more to do with the promised presence of the indisputably wealthy and powerful Devereaux Winter than it had to do with aught else.
Dom tipped his head toward brother dearest. “I owe you my thanks for your willingness to offer us aid.”
Winter nodded. “My lovely wife has persuaded me I must be less unyielding. She believes our family will be stronger united than torn asunder, and I rather think she is right.”
An olive branch. The Dominic Winter of before would have broken it in half and tossed it in his half brother’s face. The man he was now quietly accepted it. Because Adele would want him to, but also because it was the right thing to do.
Floating, fucking hell.
Fancy that.
“We are all Winters,” Dom agreed.
The resulting silence from his siblings was only interrupted by the announcement that Jasper Sutton had arrived. Mayhap the rest of them would require more time. Mayhap this change was something only love could bring about.
Because, aye, there was one reason and one reason alone Dom was about to meet with Jasper Sutton. He was in love with his wife. Desperately, irrefutably, ridiculously in love.
Demon was not wrong in his assertion. He was a Bedlamite.
Jasper Sutton stood on the threshold then. Every Winter in the chamber drew to his and her respective feet.
“Search him,” Dom told Devil.
His brother grunted and moved to Sutton.
“No weapons on me,” Sutton said.
“All the same, I will believe my brother’s word over yours,” Dom said brightly, watching as Devil performed a thorough search, seeking any hidden weapons.
At Devil’s nod, introductions resumed. Everyone sat down, but the air in the room was decidedly on edge although Sutton was unarmed. Tall, dark-haired, and menacing, Jasper Sutton ruled over his portion of the East End with an unforgiving fist.
“Well if it isn’t Devereaux Winter ’imself.” Sutton grinned, pleased. “Finally, a meeting.”
Winter’s dislike was ill-concealed. “Let us make this meeting quick, shall we? I know what you want, and you know what I want.”
“Right.” Sutton’s eyes narrowed. “But what’s the other Winters got to do with any of it?”
“You want to buy a warehouse Mr. Winter owns by the docks,” Dom said. “But Mr. Winter is family.”
Sutton’s look was one of ill-disguised disbelief. Like any common surname, the sharing of it did not necessarily signify a familial relationship, and he had done his damnedest to keep his family separate from the legitimate Winters ever since discovering the connection.
“The fancy cove Winters and the East End Winters.” Sutton guffawed.
“Yes,” Devereaux Winter confirmed.
“We shared a sire,” added Blade, who had begun spinning the point of his dagger upon the polished surface of Dom’s desk.
Dom would box his ears for that later.
“All of you?”
“Every, last one, you spider—”
“All twelve of us,” Dom interrupted, shooting his sister a warning glare.
One wrong word, and this entire deal could be over before it had begun. He had promised Adele he would find another way to solve his problem, and this was the way, damn it.
“I will give you the warehouse in question in exchange for the Sutton Waterworks and the promise you will cease all further attempts upon the Winter family and our properties,” said Devereaux Winter, likely seeing the need to propel this meeting forward before it grew any more untenable.
“That’s too high a bloody price,” growled Sutton. “And I ain’t taking the blame for the fires set here. That wasn’t me. I will sell you the Waterworks. Only you, Winter. Not the rest of these twats. For two thousand pounds and the warehouse.”
“Five hundred pounds and the warehouse, along with your promise,” Devereaux Winter countered.
Dom had known, all along, that Sutton would not sell the Waterworks to anyone other than Deveraux Winter. He had known, too, his rival’s keen interest in Winter’s dock warehouse. In turn, Devereaux had agreed to divert the funds which had been held in trust since their father’s death to the purchase of the waterworks and the sale of the warehouse. It would all be legally binding, but Sutton would not be pleas
ed when he realized he had been outfoxed.
A problem Dom would deal with later, if the time came.
“One thousand, the warehouse, and I promise to stay away from The Devil’s Spawn,” Sutton said. “All of you.”
“Done.” Devereaux nodded. “I will have the papers drawn up.”
Bloody hell.
It was done.
The waterworks would be theirs, and Dom could make peace with Adele’s family as she wished.
“This better be worth it,” grumbled Genevieve sourly.
It would be. Dom had no doubt.
Adele was having the most divine dream.
The sun was bathing her in a golden light, and her husband’s hand was moving up and down her spine in a warm, steady caress. His lips were on her ear.
“I love you, angel.”
“Mmm,” she purred, feeling like a cat being stroked.
“I have something I need to tell you.”
That sounded far too serious for a lovely dream. But then he started kissing her neck just where she loved him to press his lips most. She sighed and arched her back, trying to get herself nearer to that delicious warmth.
“Wake up, love.”
He nuzzled her throat.
A hand cupped her breast, expert fingers finding her hard nipple and tugging.
She wanted his mouth on her there. His tongue.
She rolled to her back and into a wall of solid masculinity. Bright light pierced her lashes, rocking her from the vestiges of slumber altogether. She blinked sleepily to find Dom stretched out beside her in bed, fully clothed, a tender smile on his sensual lips.
She cupped his cheek, a potent surge of emotion hitting her. “I love you.”
Since she had revealed her feelings to him a fortnight ago in the carriage on their way home from her father’s house, she had repeated the words to him often. Each time, he seemed surprised. Humbled. She could not say them enough, and he deserved to hear them. In time, she could only hope he would return them to her.
She had a patient heart.
She could wait.
“I love you, Adele.”
She blinked. “Am I still dreaming?”
“Not dreaming, I hope.” He grinned, his dark gaze burning into hers with such undisguised reverence and tenderness she could scarcely breathe. “I love you.”
“Dom.” She could not manage another word past the emotions clogging her throat. She clasped his face with both her hands in lieu of speaking and hauled his mouth to hers.
The kiss was long, slow, sweet. Filled with promise. Awareness settled between her thighs, made her breasts tingle and her nipples tighten. By the time their mouths parted, she was convinced she was awake.
And that her husband had just told her he loved her.
She had not been dreaming.
“I have news,” he said, caressing her hair.
She could not resist the urge to rub her cheek against his palm. “Go on. Tell me.”
“Jasper Sutton is selling the waterworks to Devereaux Winter. Winter has also extracted a promise from him that he will not further attack any Winters or Winter holdings.”
Hope crept into her heart. “What does this mean?”
“It means, my darling wife, that I do not need your father’s land. Nor do I need to use your brother’s vowels. Deveraux Winter is purchasing the Sutton Waterworks using the trust our father set aside for the bastard Winters. We will control it, and we will be able to provide our people with better quality water at a lower price. Jasper Sutton gets the warehouse he wanted, and we have our safety and freedom.”
She searched his gaze, noting, not for the first time, the flecks of gold and cinnamon hidden within their rich depths. “Does this mean we will return to The Devil’s Spawn to live?”
“Not unless you wish it.” He kissed her again, swiftly. “With you here, this house feels like home for the first time.”
She smiled, tears threatening her vision. “I feel the same way.”
Not that she would not have lived above his gaming hell if he wished it, but with the attempts that had been made on the building and a babe on the way…this home seemed safer. It seemed more theirs. A place where they could start anew, grow both their family and their love.
“And now, I ought to leave you to your nap, since you are in a delicate condition,” he said, dropping a kiss upon her lips, then another on her nose and yet another on her forehead. “You need your rest.”
Rest had been wonderful whilst he had been gone, but rest was the last thing on Adele’s mind now. When he would have left the bed, she clutched his arms, holding him there. “Do not go. I do not think rest is what my delicate condition needs just now.”
A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “Oh? And what is it your delicate condition does need, Mrs. Winter?”
She grinned back at him. “Nothing but you, Mr. Winter.”
Adele tugged her husband’s mouth back to hers.
Epilogue
The excited shrieks emerging from the drawing room lured Adele like a Siren’s song. She had been indulging in an afternoon nap, but as was oft the case, her quiet had been interrupted by the happy din of Dom and their children. She paused on the threshold, cradling her belly, watching the melee unfolding within.
Georgianna and Colin were wielding wooden swords. Tessa was seated upon a cushion on the floor, small carved horses laid before her as if they pulled her in a carriage.
“We shall protect you from the beast!” shouted Colin, raising his sword and narrowly missing knocking a vase from a nearby rosewood table.
Dom suddenly popped up from behind the circular ottoman. “Did I hear someone say beast?”
He punctuated his question with a mighty roar that had their children squealing wildly.
Adele could not suppress her smile or the uncontrollable flood of love rushing through her. There was her heart, on display. She took a moment to drink in the sight of them—the three little dark-haired children, their grins so like her husband’s, the unabashed love and delight on Dom’s handsome countenance. He had a counterpane wrapped around his broad shoulders as if it were a cloak.
As she watched, he spread his arms wide and roared again, moving for the children who made more elated sounds of mock horror. In one swoop, he covered them all with the blanket, fashioning a tent around them.
“Now I have you all where I want you,” he announced, his voice muffled by the fabric. “Princess, I shall begin by tickling you! And fearless guards, I will divest you of your swords and tickle you as well.”
“Never!” shouted Colin.
“We shall not be tickled!” declared Georgianna.
Tessa erupted into a fit of giggles that suggested her papa was indeed tickling her.
Adele blinked away the tears of happiness clouding her vision. Ever since she had found herself in a delicate condition with their fourth child, she could not seem to stop turning into a watering pot over the smallest moments. But she could not help it. Her heart was so full, her life spilling over with happiness.
The fearsome Dominic Winter was a wonderful father. She had always known he would be, of course. Some may have doubted. Her own family certainly had. But Dom had proven himself again and again. He was honorable, steadfast, and loving, loyal and protective. She never could have known on the day she had first sought him out that she would end up finding the other half of herself, the part that had been missing.
More giggling rang beneath the counterpane, Dom’s laugh mingling with their children’s, until at last he threw back the blanket. Their children were rosy-cheeked and grinning. Her husband’s warm gaze met hers.
“Mama! You are finished with your nap already?” he asked, grinning.
“How is one to sleep with all this noise?” she asked, smiling back at him. “I heard there was a beast in the drawing room that was tickling the princess and her fearless guards, and I had to investigate for myself.”
“Papa is so silly!” Tessa announced, bef
ore dissolving into laughter once more.
“He is a tickle beast,” Colin added sagely.
“But he is no match for our swords,” Georgianna added, brandishing her sword. “Look, Mama. Papa has been giving me lessons.”
Her daughter drew an X in the air.
Adele was reminded of a time, long ago, when he had given her similar lessons. There was no fear of reprisals from enemies now, however. Their lives had settled into a comfortable routine, and she was glad for it. The rivalry between the Winters and the Suttons had been settled.
“Quite formidable, Georgianna,” she praised her daughter.
“He has been teaching me also.” Colin proceeded to show off his sword skills as well.
This time, he gave the vase a sound thwack, and it hurtled to the floor.
“Oh dear! Sorry, Mama.” Her son’s small face crumpled, tears instantly swimming in his eyes.
He had such a sensitive heart, much like his papa.
Dom retrieved the vase and settled it back on the table. “No harm done. Nary even a crack in it, lad.”
“Come here,” Adele said, opening her arms wide. “All of you.”
Her family raced toward her. Three little sets of arms wrapped around Adele instantly, and another set of arms, large and strong, gently encircled her.
“I love you,” she told them, unable to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks now. Her heart was bursting.
“We love you too, angel.”
Warm, knowing lips found hers.
Dom kissed his beloved wife, his heart beating with more happiness than any man had a right to feel. Her belly was full and round between them, carrying their fourth child who would arrive soon. Georgianna, Colin, and Tessa surrounded them, embracing both him and their mama’s skirts.
Her lips were silken and soft, moving beneath his, telling him without words everything she felt. He cupped her face, breaking the kiss to stare down at her loveliness.
Gratitude hit him, and with it came that warm trickle in his chest, much like honey. Filling and overflowing.
“Am I dreaming?” he asked her softly, an old joke between them now.
Sometimes, it certainly felt as if he were.
Winter’s Wallflower Page 15
