“The Fourth Court heiress wants to tup you, Remy.” Remy had eschewed wine for coffee, having deemed alcohol too early to indulge in at seven in the morning, even for him. He spat the hot beverage out all the same. “She wants nothing of the sort,” he sputtered, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “She’s engaged.”
She totally wants to tup you Remy.
