The Gilded Wolves

“I shall keep your identity secret, L’Énigme. And before I forget, I must tell you I adored your costume. So shiny. I’m rather tempted to see if it will fit me.”

“Did you hear who she took as a lover?”

All her “lovers” were either made up or spoken of as favors for male friends who had no interest in taking women to bed. It was a rule she’d kept since she arrived in France.

Only once had she broken it.

With Séverin.

He’d had girls in his bed before, but nothing like that night. Nothing that made him, for a moment, forget who he was. Who he was supposed to be.

No fancy was worth his future.